Some Big Name Star Looks Mighty Skanky

Someone has a new look that practically leaps off the page.

Go ahead. Guess. Which big name star was recently seen out in public with blotchy skin, enlarged pores, pimply chin, matted forehead hair, and semi-cracked lips.

A thinned down Linda Ronstadt?

Hair dyed Cameron Diaz?

Recent DWTS reject Kim Kardashian?

How on earth Kardashian got booted off before paleolithic Cloris Leachman, I'll never know. That girl must be one gawd awful dancer. And after getting a taste of her acting, it's fairly safe to say she'll never be as big as her booty.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Lay off picture lady whoever she is. She can't help having a bad face day. But I was pretty appalled when I saw this shot, mainly because Mrs. Michael Douglas didn't seem the least bit concerned about projecting a glamorous image.

In fact, Catherine Zeta-Jones looked mighty skanky at the 2008 Global Leadership Awards. She was busy chatting up honoree Ted Turner when Neilson Barnard snapped this photo. Incidentally, they also presented rapper Jay-Z with a global leadership award for his MTV documentary Water for Life, and his collaboration with the U.N. to ensure safe, accessible drinking water in Africa.

Other photos show Zeta-Jones sandwiched between the U.N.'s Ban Ki-Moon and an unidentified woman. Can't say I would blame hubby Michael if he decided to work the room. Did you see the size of those zits!

At least now we can understand why Zeta-Jones prefers the seclusion of Bermuda over Hollywood. Imagine what it must be like to need a major makeover whenever it's time to take out the trash.

60th Primetime Emmy New Category Awards

The 60th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards did a night of firsts at the the Nokia Theatre in Hollywood. A preliminary list of winners is here.

I love how they call the winners "outstanding" whatever in their category. Not "best" just "outstanding." That gave me an idea. Why not make up some "outstanding" categories from last night's broadcast and crown my own winners? Better than writing a diatribe. For better or worst (this is really a late post), here goes.

Outstanding Hot Outfit: There was low, low cut, chic, and chic sexy. There was Christine Applegate looking radiant and oo-lah-lah (I hope she does kick Christian Slater’s behind in their time slot). And then there was Julia Louis-Dreyfus. In a smoke’n hot apricot gown, Louis-Dreyfus emanated from the stage of a New York diner reminiscent of a Seinfeld episode, "The Contest." She later lost in her category to Tina Fey who graciously mentioned her as comic inspiration.

Outstanding Surprise of the Evening: I strongly disagree that the evening held few surprises why, it’s hard to narrow them all down. For instance, I had no idea Lorne Michaels actually wrote for Saturday Night Live. I thought he just lorded over cast members. Rob Reiner writing for The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour? I thought Meathead was his only TV credit. Who knew Tommy Smothers got high in 1967? Or that Martin Sheen would utter the least controversial political statement of the evening (everyone needs to vote)? And was that David Morse on stage with the winning cast of Mad Men? Didn’t he play some part in runaway winner John Adams? But to me, the biggest surprise of the evening was how Presenter Neil Patrick Harris and I thought exactly the same thing at almost exactly the same time. Howie Mandel’s yarblings and Steve Martin gushings were tremendous wastes of time, especially in light of presenters and winners being rushed off stage.

Outstanding "What’s YOUR problem?" Moment: This was a toss up. After accepting her award and making a nice short statement, Glenn Close had the gall to eat up more time babbling about some "Sisterhood of the Traveling Divas," ostensibly including the likes of her, Dame Judi Dench, and others (bet Dame Judi loved being included in that category). Still, the winner is Howie Mandel. After doing his St. Elsewhere rap, Howie asked specific members of the audience, "Why do you applaud?" The bit was barely funny. Degrading members of the audience for their polite reaction was downright rude.

Outstanding Presence of Mind During "Get the Hell Off the Stage" Music: Steve Colbert who won for best writer. As the music tried to shush him away, Colbert had the fortitude to thank Jon Stewart for humble beginnings and his wife and family for all their support.

Outstanding Production Gaffe: Mike flubbings for Vanessa Williams and America Ferrera and some nincompoop cut off Tom Hanks’ acceptance speech (don’t they know he is Hollywood royalty?). Perhaps winners Glynn Turman and Cynthia Nixon weren’t supposed to present three successive times. But, the home audience never saw the presenter for outstanding actor in a drama series (Keifer Southerland?) because production came back so late from commercial. Whoever is responsible for that idiotic move, you win.

Outstanding Presenter Who Couldn’t Get a Laugh if His Life Depended On It: No, it wasn’t Ricky Gervais trying to tickle his Emmy away from Steve Carell. Loved how Carell would not crack a smile. Tom Bergeron of Dancing With the Stars wins hands down. Hated that drama/comedy drop gag and the rest of his performance was as flat as toilet paper.

Outstanding "Wait Until I Get You Home" Look: Love the Rickles and love that he got two standing ovations. They tried to snuff out his line about the O.J. jury (all white front row) and "The Emmy goes to Herbie Dickman" line went right over my head. But the look on wife Barbara’s face when he said, "Today she sits in Malibu on the sand with the jewelry signaling ships," had me rolling. I imagine by now she’s used to the embarrassment.

Outstanding Cast in a Time Warp: They either have the best makeup artists, face lifts, and hair colorists in Hollywood or the fickle finger of fate has smiled on their saggy behinds. The five-member presenters of Laugh-In, especially Gary Owens, are amazingly well preserved. Jon Stewart leaning in for the French kiss win with Ruth Buzzy only to have her clobber him with that ratty brown handbag was one of the evening’s highlights.

Outstanding Cast in Time to Move On: Presenters Mary Tyler Moore and Betty White. If you’re going to do face lifts, you really should do them right. Are these grand dames of TV in their 80s? 70s? MTM’s face was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. Don’t get me started on Betty White’s retirement colony pantsuit.

Outstanding Political Commentary: The award goes belatedly to Tommy Smothers. After accepting his long denied best writing award from 1968, Tommy had the best political lines of the night. "I can't stay silent when hearing peace is only attainable through war. Nothing is scarier than watching ignorance in action. I’m accepting the Emmy on behalf of other people who won't be silenced. Truth is what you get other people to believe." The audience laughed, but he wasn't joking.

Runners-Up: Laura Linny, lead actress in a miniseries or movie, saved time by thanking supporters privately and showed appreciation for "great community organizers who organize our country." Feigning disdain for political commentary, presenters Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert instead did a metaphor about prunes. Colbert said, "America needs a prune, granted shriveled and at times hard to swallow, but this dried up old prune has the experience we need," while Stewart countered, "After eight years, you would think America would have had enough." Kirk Ellis who won for best writing for miniseries John Adams had the grace to thank Tom Hanks and add "A period in our history when articulate men articulated complex thoughts in complete sentences. They used words ---" and yikes, got cut-off. Must have been a Republican in the tech booth.

Outstanding Imitations Making Gallagher Look Good: Josh Groban. Suicide was not painless as he sang theme songs from M*A*S*H to The Love Boat, to Mr. Rogers Neighborhood to the gospel style of The Jeffersons. Esther just Rolled over in her grave.

Outstanding Catch Phrase: Hard to pick just one. There was Barry Sonnenfeld who won best director for a comedy series, Pushing Daisies. "Love TV and fear the Internet." Tom Hanks acknowledged Presenter Sally Field as "Mom" and almost launched into a Forrest Gumpism. Guess he forgot about their roles in Punchline. Then there was Don Rickles, big winner after fifty-five years of no acknowledgments saying, "This crap got me no place." Paul Giamatti, best lead actor in a miniseries or movie, thanked "my fake wife, Laura." However, Tina Fey, big winner of the evening, also wins this category with the line, "Better to be a writer than an actor. At weddings, people are less interested in talking to you."

Outstanding Classy Remark: Even though they sat the cast of House way toward the back, Greg Utanes, best director of a drama series, thanked the Academy. And Presenter Sandra Oh acknowledged and waved hello to her parents. Winner? Seven times nominated first-time winner, Alec Baldwin, for outstanding lead actor in a comedy series. He was the first of many who was gracious enough to thank his co-nominees. Other winners followed his lead throughout the rest of the evening.

Outstanding Missed Opportunity: Presenter Bill Peterson, aside from wearing some questionable black number with velvet-looking lapels, let the biggest opportunity for a laugh slip right past his fingers. After accepting Tom Wilkinson’s award on his behalf, and hearing Conan O’Brien say he would hand an award accepted for someone else to Steve Carell, it would have been hysterical if Peterson had actually handed Wilkinson’s Emmy to Carell.

Outstanding Theory About Mad Men's Win: It was the only nominee in the drama category that had more than one word in its title.

Gone But Not Forgotten: George Carlin, Bernie Brillstein, Joey Bishop, William F. Buckley, Charlton Heston, Les Crane, Alice Ghostly, Ivan Dixon, Cyd Charisse, Mel Ferrer, Claudio Guzman, Barry Morse, Deborah Kerr, Larry Harmon, Estelle Getty, Roger King, Sydney Pollack, Ron Leavitt, Bernie Mac, Eric Lieber, Suzanne Pleshette, Abby Mann, Dick Martin, Delbert Mann, Harvey Korman, Jim McKay, Lois Nettleson, Mel Tolkin, Richard Widmark, Stan Winston, Tim Russert, and Isaac Hayes.

Outstanding Line of the Evening: Jeff Probst, first winner as outstanding lead for a reality program category. "G’night."

2008 MTV Movie Awards Denies Free Access to Bleachers

As much as everyone enjoyed yesterday's MTV Movie Awards, I'm going on the record with a big fat "Bleh." Not because of the show itself but because of the people who ran it.

Should have known it was a bad omen when I couldn't rouse the girls at 8:00 a.m. We were supposed to cruise Malibu, drive back to The Hollywood Walk of Fame, maybe catch the Kodak Theater, then make our way to the Gibson Amphitheater in Universal City for the 2008 MTV Movie Awards. Ambitious, certainly, but potentially doable. All we wanted were spots in the bleachers, you know, to ogle arriving celebrities. Then we would make our way back to Beverly Woods. A nice last day to cap off a memorable trip to el Lay.

Instead, we wound up skipping Malibu. I gave the girls a choice, sleep in or Malibu. They chose sleep. Having a wild and crazy Saturday night and traipsing in at 6:00 a.m. can do that to a person, you know, clouding one's judgment. At least they couldn't blame me for the change in plans.

But then, life started to become very weird. Of all days to deal with the catastrophic, Universal Studios caught fire. A big back lot explosion -- there's still fire engines parked out there. Channel 2 news staked out the entrance all day.

So, you can imagine what our hosts and friends tried to do when we told them about our plans. Warn us away. Do not try to attend this award show, it will be a traffic disaster. Regretfully, I would not be deterred. Let's face it, an opportunity like this might never happen again.

We parked the rental at Highland and Hollywood, putting The Walk of Fame and whatnot on hold until mission accomplished in Universal City, a dubious conquest at best. Our trek on the redline continued a bad streak of luck. We got off at the wrong stop, not because of stupidity, but because my friend advised to ride to the end. Wrong. The girls admonished me for sticking to that plan. Clearly, the stop before was the one for Universal City. How did they know? It was the name of the stop.

Beautiful mosaics fill the correct train station

One of the few bright spots of the day was a very talented man with a guitar and a crooked smile who serenaded the platform as we waited for the next train. First time in twenty years I've dropped so much as a nickle into a guitar case. The guy wanted more, but all I had were five and ten dollar bills. I'm a pretty good tipper, but not that good. Saved by the approaching train, I told him he should play in a club and quickly disappeared.

Guitar player sings well, gets tips

Subway patrons enjoy underground guitar player

When we finally reached the outside of Universal Studios, so many people were lined up for a shuttle, I convinced the girls to walk to the top. Blunder numero whatever (I lost track), the hill was extremely steep. We journeyed at a snail's pace just to keep breathing, then finally reached the summit, but at a price. Our dignity. Sweating like pigs, I know I must have looked like crap. Can't speak for the girls, but they probably felt that way too. Let's just say I was overly under dressed. We only wanted to sit in the bleachers. What difference did it make if I looked like a bag lady?

I felt a smidgen of relief seeing the great steel Universal Studios ball, twirling on its axis, marking the entrance to the park. Tons of people milling about, waiting to get inside. Unfortunately, the fire had shut the place down. No one would be admitted to the rides. You should have heard the collective groans.

Universal Studios Theme Park is deserted due to explosive fire in California

Was the Gibson Amphitheater, site of the MTV Movie Awards, still accessible? A policeman told us it was, but couldn't say for certain if they were still accepting tickets. Tickets? You needed tickets to sit in bleachers and cheer celebrities as they walked by?

Apparently so. We sped down the City Walk and there they were, more frantic looking people angling for a coveted spot inside the show. Women totally dressed to the nines. The girls and I stuck out like sore thumbs. Even though the girls had dressed fairly tastefully, they were nowhere near as fancy as the crowd hoping to get "cast" for filler seats (yes, they actually called it being cast, if you can imagine having to play a part just to fill an empty chair).

We arrived in line for the show at approximately 1:30 p.m. At that point, they admitted maybe another twenty people. Then, they closed the gate and forced everyone who hadn't wangled a space inside to move out of the area. Harsh.

I couldn't even smooth talk a spot for my fairly decent looking girls. Scott, the guy in charge, would have none of it. Just trying to do my job, he whined. Yeah right, stick a sock in it, Scott. You should've let the girls into the show. I would've found my own way inside.

The theater wasn't accessible from the opposite entrance either. Not one to be shy, I asked the incredibly brutal female guard about possible admittance to the bleachers without a ticket. My bag lady motif must've raised a red flag because she took special care to emphasize the ticket requirement (forget about getting to the bleachers-- just to walk on the grounds required a ticket according to nasty), tickets that could not be bought at the box office or scalped. She also took it upon herself to alert all the gate guards about the ticket requirement, lest I try something sneaky like walking in empty handed.

"Let's go," my daughter complained. That girl throws in a the towel way too easily.

After all that time and effort, I would find a way in or die trying. They'd have to forcibly remove me from the premises to make me give in. "This way," I said, directing them back to where we started. They must have thought I was completely nuts, but I was leading the charge. They had no choice but to follow.

Then I saw my opening. An unguarded gate in between the other two dead ends. It must lead to the Gibson Amphitheater. I motioned the girls and told them to follow my lead. Look confident, like we belong, but walk separately. We'll be less easy to spot if we're not in a group. Don't hesitate. Don't ask any questions.

We easily slipped by whoever was in charge of that gate. Maybe no one was in charge. Now all we had to do was join the crowd inside and we were home free.

Easier said than done. My daughter became highly uncomfortable. She was certain we would get kicked out, leaving her to die of embarrassment. It still amazes me how she can get so embarrassed around people she doesn't know. I suppose one is either born with that kind of inner strength, or it comes with age. It certainly can't be taught. I told her to say we were coming back from the bathroom if someone stopped us, then took my place with the crowd.

You can probably guess what happened next. The girls hesitated, looking around for reassurance. The guards stopped them. When they couldn't produce wrist bands, they were kicked out. I, on the other hand, ingratiated myself to a bunch of beautiful and impeccably dressed fine young women who took pity upon me, shielding me from the unrelentingly evil guards. One actually made our group line up single file, then separated people with black wrist bands from our line. The group ahead of us didn't have to line up single file or separate into two wrist band groups. Maybe I was just paranoid, but I think they might have been trying to ferret me out.

My guardian angel ladies told me to stick with them. Then, they intimidated the hell out of the killjoy guard, calling her all kinds of names and getting catty. "Let us in, beeyotch, we've been standing here long enough," one screamed over her shoulder. Before the cat calls reached a fever pitch, the male guards waved us through.

Relief. Kind of.

I did not fit in with this crowd. At one point, some nervy girl excused herself, then proceeded to tell me "she thought" I was in the wrong line. What a bubble brain. "I'm with them," I answered, pointing to my guardian angels. When no one said any more, the bubble brain piped down.

Honestly, I wanted to go to the bleachers. But I couldn't ask a guard to put me there without giving away my dirty little secret. I was stuck with the well heeled and well dressed headed inside. Torn between the chance of a lifetime and the girls, I chose the show. I wish I hadn't. Oh, the girls told me it was fine, their friends would pick them up and they'd go do something else. I should have realized then that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the show. Really, it would be no fun unless they came with, but too excited about the opportunity to think like an adult, I forged ahead.

Yes, I had a good seat. An excellent free seat where I could do more than make out the shadows of celebrities. I could actually see their faces, read the teleprompter, and enjoy the show from the stage instead of monitors. But, there was little joy in Mudville.

The last series of guards made me toss my camera batteries. All I could get were cell phone shots. Big whoop.

Not the very front, but still a decent seat at The MTV Movie Awards

Truth is any minute, I figured the guards would snatch that away too.

Then, I lost my guardian angels. They were moved to seats in the front. I was happy for them, those beautiful angels deserved to mingle with celebrities. But I missed their cover. I couldn't take a chance with new people, so I kept to myself.

And then there was big cheese man, Scott. He must have spotted me in the crowd, despite my best efforts to blend. The twerp stationed a guard in my aisle (there were no guards in any other aisles -- believe me -- I checked) who made sure to glance my way every now and then just in case. In case what, I don't know. I suppose he felt the need to intimidate, but I wasn't feeling his need.

Oh yes, I did overhear too full of himself Scott mention to another guard about having a seat for one the minute I got up. As if. Sweetheart, I would have gone into bladder arrest rather than abandon that seat. At one point, I did get pretty thirsty, but stayed simply out of spite.

And still, the aisle guard maintained a watchful eye.

When the show ended, there was some outdoor party requiring yet another admission pass. I stood by a door to the outside protected by the first nice guard of the evening. Even though the door was shut tight, at least ten people must have asked if they could exit that way. The answer was always no until finally, some other guard threw open the floodgates. Then the yellow-shirted guards started to clear house. "Remove yourselves from the lobby."

Oh brother, here we go again.

Honestly, I don't think any of the guards knew what they were doing. Other than being obnoxiously rude and evil, they served no real purpose in life. The nice guard was a marine from Utah. At least he had a heart. I must have stood by the glass door for about twenty minutes while the theater emptied. Saw absolutely no one worth mentioning except Christian Siriano.

Figures, it was a guy from Baltimore.

Oh, and Paris Hilton holding onto Benji Madden for dear life. She wore some black and white number. Her hair looked very cute.

I snapped this shot of the invite only party from a peon exit, a place manned by a guard dressed in black. All around were finely dressed women who could not sweet talk an invite to the celebrity after-digs. I felt sorry for them. Hey, if I had been dressed better, I probably could have talked someone into letting me tag along. Anyway, I asked the black suited guard if it was okay to snap some pictures. The guy had no qualms whatsoever.

Wouldn't you know, the minute I was done, some snippy looking yellow-shirted guard made a point to drop by. Starts telling everyone to move along and clear out. Can you believe that? I have never been so harassed in my entire life, not even when protesting in front of Washington, D.C. park police.

Well dressed women told to clear out and move along

Just to prove my point, look what I found standing around on my way to the exit by way of the City Walk. Right around the dancing fountain. You would have thought someone was trying to steal state secrets. The park was pretty much empty. What were they expecting? A riot?

Uniformed police are called to guard the City Walk on the way out of Universal Studios

All I wanted was a spot in the bleachers.

Sean Penn Hooks Up With Petra Nemcova

Aw shucks. We can't get the gossip scoop on anyone. Recently separated actor Sean Penn showed up with model Petra Nemcova at Elton John's post-Oscar bash. Yada yada. Moan Quivers reports Sir Elton's hair looks like tufted rooster head feathers. Love the charity ball, hate the hair. At least Sir Elton didn't cancel his annual fundraiser out of spite...unlike disgruntled actors/directors who were nowhere to be found on Oscar's red carpet.

Spewker Live Blogs The Oscars 80th Annual Academy Awards

Early? Catch the Worst Dresses in Oscar History.

Late? Here are the winners.

Thanks to everyone who joined us for tonight's live blog of the Oscars. If you enjoyed our site, tell all your friends and subscribe, subscribe. We're in the process of developing a regular weekly show for Moan Quivers and we provide daily updates on celebrity politics at our blog. Have a great night!

80th Annual Academy Awards Live Blog Oscars

We're watching the 80th Annual Academy Awards on TV and allowing our virtual Hollywood correspondent, Moan Quivers, to live blog the Oscars. Anyone who's interested is urged to stick around. Moan couldn't be any more excitied. She's wearing her best red dress, drippy diamonds, and prowling the red carpet looking for celebrity victims to disparage. Moan is kind at heart, but loves to skewer.

Moani also plans to make some predictions and gossip. The TV channels her comments will be related to are:

TVGuide
ABC

Hope everyone has a great time tonight. Moan is loaded and raring to go. Ciao!

Impressive Sixty Second Videos from the 2008 Orange British Academy Film Awards

I'm a sucker for awards events. The swirl of glitterati, red carpet bursting in a thousand bulbs of flash, paps shouting "Over here! Turn left! Give me a smile!", stars gently nudging along at the behest of their nondescript handlers with an occasional entourage in tow, wannabes clamoring for interview crumbs. When awards season hits the scene, so does my inner stalker. Luckily for all involved, a big screen TV and cable are more than enough to send my demons packing.

Of course with all the Hollywood upheaval, this awards season is shaping up to be a hot steaming bath of dung. Case in point: The 65th Annual Golden Globes. I don't know about you, but if I glanced away from the screen just to scratch my foot, Mary Hart and whats-his-name had already announced a category winner and were racing on to the next. Yes, there is something to be said for condensing what used to be at least a three hour telecast into thirty or less minutes, but if I had my druthers I'd take fashion and glitz.

No wonder the announcement of 2008 nominees for the Orange BAFTAs left me pinging with excitement. The name itself is rather intriguing...don't you think? Orange? Is there a Purple BAFTAs too (as a Ravens fan I had to ask)? The event's location in the UK is huge! No striking writers or picket lines and unlike the Oscars, fans will not have to contemplate possible letdown.

Normally, I would not give the Orange BAFTAs a second thought, but now everything is different. Now, stars are hungry to walk a red carpet in glam. Now, gobs of people need a celebrity stalker fix. Now, plenty troll videos of last year's award shows just to gossip about Jack and Johnny. If I had known last summer what I know today I would have paid far more attention to the MTV Movie Awards. Bring back the snark!

Over to BAFTA's website I traveled.

Since my modus stalkerendi is not the Orange BAFTAs, I have no idea whether their traditional format includes an award for Short Film Making Iniative. If not, it should. This is an amazingly cool category tailor made for the web. Aspiring film makers submit sixty second videos embodying a pre-chosen theme. This year's theme is "unite." Visitors can rate and vote for their favorites. The Academy chooses fifteen regional winners to rub elbows with real tinsel at the February 10th telecast. A grand prize winner is announced at the ceremony.

There's even something for the little people. More Magazine is running a contest with Nicky Clarke to style one lucky winner's hair. Benefits include grazing with the A-list on the day of the show.

I don't know how many sixty second shorts the British Academy received. Probably thousands. Could be millions. At sixty seconds a clip, I could afford to view some. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending upon one's point of view, new job responsibilities prevent me from fully devouring this cinemagraphic cornucopia. If you have a lot of time on your hands, I strongly urge you to run -- not walk -- to their website and begin watching. Online voting starts on January 28, 2008 and ends midnight on February 3, 2008. You may need the January 28th lead time just to view all the entries.

While you're there, don't forget to vote for the Orange Rising Star Award. My spyware program popped a phishing warning, so you may not want to divulge your true e-mail address with your vote. Don't tell anyone, but I made something up and voted anyway.

If you don't have time to kill on videos, here are ten fairly impressive film shorts with something for everyone in no particular order:

The Photo Man - Clever use of cinematography reaffirms the power of love.

Santa's Unite - Engaging mockumentary on the herding rituals of Santas.

Lady Peaceful - Horror noir lives happily ever after.

Love Hurts - A brief encounter between a robot and cactus produces something beautiful.

Common Ground – A single photograph unites the heartbreak of women.

Peek-A-Boom - Worlds play cat and mouse, then collide in a burst of brilliance. My nomination for best make-up.

Directions - Souls collide in an unexpected manner.

Hound(ed) - A man struggles to understand why society seems united against him.

Red Herring - Excellent use of the color red leaves much to the imagination.

number 88 – Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Jonathan Ross will host this year's Orange BAFTAs at London's Royal Opera House on Sunday, February 10, 2008.

Writers Strike Kicks Golden Globe Awards in the Teeth

The entertainment industry is in trouble when my children begin complaining about the current wasteland that is television.

For more than ten weeks, the Writers Guild of America has taken its cause to the streets, going head to head with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers, giving the evil eye to late night TV hosts, putting the kibosh on sexy award shows, and digging their heels in for the long haul. ABC Studios recently ratcheted things up a notch by terminating writer development agreements and work contracts. Things seem to be going south fast.

The reasons behind all this misery are not difficult to understand. For anyone still in the dark, a humorous explanation from former SNL alumna Tim Kazurinsky should clear up any misconceptions.



Last night, one of the premiere award shows, the Golden Globes, was reduced to a press conference with video clips. Tinseltown continues to mourn. Calling the format entertaining would be a stretch, although seeing the whole program in under an hour definitely had its advantages. Sure, I missed the red carpet, the glitz, the dresses, and all the interviews, don’t get me wrong. However, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t spend an entire evening glued to a television set just to find out the names of the winners. There's something to be said for streamlined viewing.

Sadly, the Academy Awards may fall victim to the same fate. Advertisers are scouting alternatives. Things have gotten so precarious, the cavalry is headed for Dodge. All around nice guys Tom Hanks and George Clooney have offered to mediate. No word on whether the feuding Hatfields and McCoys have decided to come in from the rain.

As a writer myself, it’s hard not to sympathize with the WGA. They just want their piece of the pie, not a kick in the crack. Writers suffer stints of unemployment like everyone else and need residuals to help carry them through. Studio heads insist they aren’t turning a profit on the Internet, yet they’ve been whistling a different tune to their shareholders. Writers deserve better.

Offering a cut of net profits is not the solution. Creative accounting techniques can make profits look like deficits. No, the studios must cough up a percentage of gross advertising revenue to end the strike. The Guild recently negotiated similar deals with Worldwide Pants, David Letterman’s production company, United Artists, and The Weinstein Company.

If it’s too much to ask fat cat media conglomerates to follow their lead, then conglomerates will have to suffer the consequences. Just like when television exploded in the 1950’s, thereby relegating radio to a back seat, so too will the Internet explode. Television could then head into a tailspin from which it may never recover. Public viewing preferences will change.

When the dust settles, I have a feeling the writers will land on their feet. They can jump ship to the Internet if that’s where the audience lands. But studio heads may not be as lucky. Their ships may become empty vessels.

Saudi Blogger Remains in Jail and Other Undigested Blips

Undigested fragments belched while out and about in the news...

1. Did anyone actually see the movie Underdog, or is it just going straight to DVD? As a kid, I never missed the cartoon. As an adult, I don’t recall any advertisements.

2. Kissing the ground of this democracy and silently reciting the pledge of allegiance as I read about the Saudi blogger who remains in jail for daring to publish his name alongside his opinions.

3. When only 41 members of the National Society of Film Critics decide who gets the awards, that isn’t news. It’s a coffee klatch.

4. Can we treat 2008 as the year we stopped caring about "Unfitney"? No? Didn’t think so, just thought it was worth asking.

5. Do you Bebo? Maybe you should.

6. Democratic candidate Dennis Kucinich honestly thought Iowans would make him their first choice for President. No wonder he’s the only person in Congress who admits to seeing a UFO.

7. Anyone who still thinks the top three Democratic presidential candidates can refrain from personal attacks please take one step forward. There’s a growing demand for consumer sheeple in the tanking American economy.

8. Oh, for goodness sakes. No one in their right mind is going to waste what little time is left in 2008 trying to impeach the President and/or Vice President. Quitcher belly aching and get back to work.

9. Quick, all you low-tech people who don’t have cable subscriptions, only 22 million vouchers left and they’re going fast. I wonder what the feds did to publicize this program. Decided to lend a helping hand, just in case they were too busy trying to defend the President.

10. Two male guinea pigs in a cage with one igloo hideaway make an awful lot of noise. Guess it’s time to buy a bigger cage that can fit a second igloo.

Emmy Awards After Party

Someone hot in Hollywood wore these strappy sparklers on the red carpet of an Emmy Awards after party. I don't want to give it away, but she isn't known for her sense of style. Recent subject of gossip and name linking, she's also getting a hot tempered reputation around Tinseltown. Can you guess whose shoes?

Christian Groups Angry Over Kathy Griffin Remarks

Did plastic surgery enhanced Kathy Griffin really say, "Suck it Jesus, this is my god now," then kiss her new Emmy and walk off the stage? Apparently, this did in fact happen last Saturday at the Creative Arts Emmy Awards.

The national news media didn't give this outburst too much attention and network execs plan to edit her comments out of the upcoming Primetime Emmys. I suppose the driveby news media thought if they didn't report it, it would just go away like it never happened.

Well, they'd better think again. As of today, word of her malapropism is being broadcast from all the right wing talk radio stations. I'd say by some time tomorrow, after the deluge of e-mails, her agents are going to strongly suggest a public apology.

Did Kathy go too far this time? Why should the politically correct police exempt Christians from their purge?



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