Strike a pose

As I logged into Blogger to write today's post, I noticed that one of our .5 weekly readers requested more coverage of the Hollywood writer's strike. Fortuitously, this is precisely what I had planned to cover today, which just goes to show that Creative Differences is always willing to be accidentally responsive to its readers. For those of you who feel that we don't address the subjects that interest you, try and take an interest in whatever you anticipate us discussing. I promise you'll rarely be disappointed.

But enough of that, to the Strike-mobile! The Writers Guild of America went on strike this morning because they were unable to reach an agreement with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers over royalty cuts from DVDs and other digital media sources. Our reader pointed out, however, that the Hollywood writers have impugned their own alleged value by failing to generate any picket signs more creative than "On Strike," which, to be honest, is really more of a description than a slogan.

("Who are we?" "We're on strike!" "What do we want?" "We're on strike!")

Clearly, the writers should already be worried. Striking isn't a romantic comedy, where an improbable and uproariously hilarious series of mini-disasters will bring them true love. No, going on strike is serious business. For example, Gina Serpe of E! Online is already auditioning as a strike-breaker. Check out her "reporting" on this morning's opening salvo from the writers:

The strike has finally struck.

After an 11th-hour 11-hour-long (go figure) meeting between the Writers Guild of America and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers flamed out Sunday, the pens that power Hollywood are taking to the pickets.

According to the writers' union, scribes plan on picketing 15 Los Angeles locations, along with NBC's Rockefeller Center studios in New York, in four-hour shifts beginning at 9 a.m. Monday, every day until a new deal is reached.

Wow, Ms. Serpe, do you mind if I tell you that you can really write? No? Well, I mind. Don't take it personally if I inform you that you'll never be one of the "pens that power Hollywood." You may, however, discover a fruitful career writing obnoxious alliteration for yourself. Oh, wait, that's not a career, it's a hobby. A sad, pathetic hobby. Don't tell you friends about it.

It's tough to know just how to receive the writer's strike. Obviously, as I consider most of these people my colleagues and because I aspire to one day also make millions off of hackneyed plots and trite dialogue, I feel solidarity with my writing brethren. At the same time, I see this as a great opportunity for me to join with Serpe and cross the picket line. It could be my one shot at stardom, just like Shane Falco in The Replacements.

Speaking of The Replacements, wouldn't this strike make for a great movie somewhere down the line? It was a time of oppression. As the writers toiled, the moguls and corporate fat cats got rich. Until one writer said "no more." Against all odds, the scribes combined word processors and wrote a new future for themselves. One where they earned the right to buy two summer homes in addition to their LA mansions. Some called it excess. They called it dignity . . .