HONK IF YOU LOVE WRITERS!

A funny thing happened to me yesterday. So racked with guilt about the previous day and how I ducked out on the picketers after only thirty minutes of support, I decided to return and give it another whirl. This time, I brought earplugs.

But when I got there, no one was striking. Probably not the first time any of these writers started the weekend off early, I thought. But, during a labor dispute? How bourgeois. Just as I was about to leave, I looked up to notice, across the street, a billboard staring down at me like some scowling Biblical dude from the top of a mountain. I had to do a double-take. It was an ad for The L.A. Times featuring a photo of their illustrious opinion-whore Kenneth Turan alongside one of his quotes - "It's Hard To Imagine A World Without Films." One last cynical thought before heading to the Mac Store - In the immortal words of John Lennon, "It's easy if you try."

Overcome with a sudden sense of melancholy, I made my way to a laptop at The Grove's Mac store, hoping to discover that a minor miracle had taken place. No such luck. The WGA Strike was, in fact, not over. I felt awful. I wanted to make amends with those young Comedy Central writers I had taken to task in my Thursday post. I wished I hadn't written it. I wanted to take back every nasty jab. Yes, I would love to live in a world without film critics, but not if it means living in a world without films. We need our writers, young and old. The annoying and the curmudgeonly. The good, the bad, and the smugly. This is not the time for infighting. Something bigger than all of us is going on here. All creatives MUST stand together stoically against the Greed Machines who are trying to keep every last one of us at bay.

Where was I? Oh, yes. So, anyway, drastic action was called for. Somebody had to cover for these lazy 3-day-weekending scribes. Like a bat outta hell, I ran home, got out a sharpie, some cardboard, and made my own sign - "HONK IF YOU LOVE WRITERS!" After fashioning a make-shift picket sign, I ran back to CBS and picketed for about 45 minutes... all alone. During this time, I did not get so much as one honk. Derisive laughter, yes. Pointing and headshaking, looks of pity, you bet! Maybe the occasional thumbs-up by a passing trucker, but not one toot. When the tape came loose and the sign fell apart, I was so forlorn that I just walked home with my head hung low. As I was approaching my apartment with that brokedown sign under my arm, some smartass neighbor of mine honked her support and had a good laugh before speeding off to her Friday night yoga class. After entering my humble abode, I plopped myself down at the 'puter to check my e-mail.

After opening my server, I noticed a news story had recently broken - "THOUSANDS RALLY AT 20TH CENTURY FOX."

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