Month / October 2007

by Edward Champion

The Impact of the Writers Strike

Variety; “The canaries in TV’s creative coal mine are latenight hosts such as David Letterman and Jay Leno, whose monologues and sketches are dependent on union writers. If history is any guide, both shows will almost instantly go dark, as would ‘Saturday Night Live.’ Comedy Central’s latenight stalwarts ‘The Daily Show With Jon Stewart’ and ‘The Colbert Report’ would also likely switch to repeats in the immediate aftermath of a strike.”

It’s 1988 all over again. And there’s a part of me quite curious about how long it will go on, how patient audiences will be for reruns, and whether the late-night television titans might at long last be revealed as mimetic melonheads desperately reliant they are upon their writers.

The difference this time is that this WGA strike is going down in the Internet age, with the largest possible depository of non-union talent showing off their wares at YouTube.

Sure, 95% of everything is crap. But what if the networks and the WGA can’t come to an agreement? Let’s say that the strike ends up going on for longer than six months, which would surely make the promised spate of sixteen uninterrupted episodes of Lost impossible and piss off the fans. That’s certainly sticking it to the man. But is it possible that a spate of enterprising nonunion talent, shut out by the WGA system, might drastically court the networks during this strike? And if they do not approach the networks or the networks do not approach them in scab-like manner, then perhaps television audiences, desperately searching for new material, might be drawn to either the Internet or reading books to find new stories.

In other word, this WGA strike couldn’t have happened at a better time. As the relationship between old media and new media remains transcendent and ever-evolving, I’m wondering if we won’t see some serious shock waves if the WGA strike isn’t resolved within two months. Unless, of course, the WGA strike proves the inevitable: that current television audiences are quite happy to get their reality TV fix. Which would be considerably ironic, given that this was precisely what the WGA has gone to the mat for.

by Edward Champion

A Letter Sent to the Pabst Brewing Company

Bernard Orsi
Chairman
PABST BREWING COMPANY
121 Interpark Blvd., Ste. 300
San Antonio, TX 78216-1852

Dear Mr. Orsi:

I write to you because I am beginning to have doubts about your beer. You see, in a moment of weakness, several months ago, I enjoyed Pabst Blue Ribbon with the famed editor of a literary journal based in San Francisco. However, since I have moved to Brooklyn, I have, at the urging of a few of my readers (I am a writer whose work appears in newspapers and strange magazines, as well as one of these hip new blogs that all the kids are talking about), started to realize that I may have been led astray in my beverage drinking decisions. The famed editor in question now refers to me as “a PBR addict” and I have begun to have strange dreams involving your tall cans. In my dreams, the cans talk to me and are, indeed, taller than me. And at six foot two, I’m a pretty tall guy. So this is somewhat traumatic. The cans tell me that I must drink the beer inside their cans or recite Rod McKuen’s poetry. Of course, I always select the former decision. After all, wouldn’t you?

Well, of course, you would. You’re the chairman of the Pabst Brewing Company. But think of me: a casual and overly imaginative consumer of beer. Put yourself in my place!

Because of this, I’m under a certain phantasmagoric duress. Your crazy old-school “blue ribbon” logo doesn’t help matters. It makes me think that I’ve won something, when the victory is likely yours. I’ve always thought that America is the place where everyone’s a winner. But how am I winning, Bernard, when I drink a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon? Please tell me.

And so, Bernard, we now find ourselves at an impasse. I need some additional faith from you, your company, and your beer — if I am to carry on drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Now I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here. Perhaps there have been a few bad cans. Perhaps I have been too trusting of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Perhaps I have been drinking it the wrong way.

But I need to know that you mean business. Which is why I am suggesting that you send me a large package, gratis, containing the finest specimens of your beer, so that I might better comprehend your product and possibly rediscover the Pabst magic. I promise to refrigerate whatever you send me, Bernard. And if you give me additional drinking instructions, I’ll follow them to the letter.

I have every faith that the two of us can come to some arrangement along these lines which might allow me to better understand your beer. But for now, I must place any future Pabst drinking in abeyance, unless you can offer a compelling reason (or exemplar) for me to carry on through the long and lonely nights.

Very truly yours,

Edward Champion