I’ve been getting a lot of emails lately, mostly about penis enlargement. Some trying to sell me pharmaceuticals (interesting), and of course the occasional BLA BLA BLA fathered my child BLA BLA BLA told me you had a vasectomy BLA BLA BLA court garnishing your wages WHATEVER. I don’t read any of those. Well, except the pharmaceutical ones. Mmmm…. pills. Delicious pills.

However lately I’ve been getting more and more of a different sort of email, the sort where some poor schmuck who works as a PA or gaffer or showrunner on some stupid TV program about a science doctor with Tourrette’s Syndrome who travels time to solve crimes, worried about the alleged “writer’s strike,” asks me to use my spoon-bending pissychic powers to predict when – if ever – that mess is going to resolve. Interestingly enough, I did have a vision this morning. A vision of me pissing all over the shower curtain because these damn penis enlargement pills made my junk bend at a 45 degree angle (okay, so I read the penis enlargement emails too). I ALSO had a vision about the writer’s strike, but it didn’t come via the aid of any crystal ball. Crystal meth, maybe. But mostly care of my own Laser Powerz of Deduction.

See, up until Sunday evening, how things would unfold was still anyone’s guess. So how’d the pooch get so royally screwed? Obviously there are two sides to that story. But let’s work with the AMPTP’s side, since they were so quick to get their version out first. Per both accounts, the WGA had expressed willingness to drop the issue of DVD residuals and focus on digital media. In other words, they’d already shown the AMPTP that writers would bend over and take eight inches of whatever Nick Counter’s herbal supplement-enhanced rapestick could give, so long as he used a dab of Astroglide first. The WGA didn’t want this strike. They just wanted a fair deal. They didn’t want to shut down the industry and put a bunch of innocent bisexuals… I mean bistanders out of work. But the AMPTP did. How do we know?

Because when the fed-mandated negations at the lovely Sofitel Hotel broke down at 9:30 on Sunday night, AMPTP Prez Nick Counter dropped what’s known in the grifting industry as a “give.” Like Tom Cruise making public professions of undying love for his wife who is a female person, Counter was overcompensating. Quoth Counter:

“We were totally blind-sided by their announcement that they went on strike in New York at a point in time when we were in negotiations and making some progress”

Basically, Counter and the AMPTP put forth the notion that the WGA East going on strike at 12:01 AM Monday morning had somehow violated their trust. Their FEELINGS were hurt. Okay, now let’s put on the laser-goggles and really look at that. What were the ramifications of the WGAE “striking” at frickin’ midnight on a Monday morning?

Nada. Zip. And zilch.

It wasn’t like there were roaming bands of scribes hurling Molitovs, breaking windows, looting the NBC Rockerfeller gift shop… NOTHING HAPPENED. So you’re telling me the AMPTP — which represents the interests of mega-media-conglomorates with names like NBCUniversalPepsicoHaliburton, companies which seem to have NO PROBLEM doing business with third-world juntas, the mafia, arms dealers etc etc — were put off by the non-existent labor shutdown of a handful of working writers who were all fucking asleep? That it made them sad, like sad-clown sad, like sad-clown who the police just found a bunch of dead hookers in his basement and now he’s going to jail sad? And Rupert Murdoch was crying his eyes out, updating his MySpace profile with a sad face emoticon and writing things in his blog like “TeH Riterz R Mean! :-( I H8 them soooo soooo much I want tHem 2 Die! It’s Noooo fair>>> :-(((( ”?

Uh-huh.

See, what you have to remember is that the AMPTP represents the interests of evil. Not torturing vagrants in the woodshed evil (hi mom!), but corporate evil, the sort that keeps our economy running SMOOV and EAZY like a cold Colt 45 on a warm summer day. And these guys negotiate deals for a fucking LIVING. You think Murdoch or Chernin would’ve cared if Tom from MySpace had showed up to negotiate the sale of his hugely popular website wearing a necklace made from aborted fetuses, then punched Chernin in the kidneys and proceded to sodomize Murdoch’s Chinawoman wife right there on the conference table? Now way, Jose. Just give us the fucking deal. And these writers, mostly good-intentioned, left-leaning, Prius-driving organic-hemp sock-wearing confrontation-fearing endomorphs, were willing to do just that. So the AMPTP’s make-pretend hissy fit means only one thing. THEY WANTED A FUCKING STRIKE.

Why? Well, I’m no economist (unless you replace the “econom” with “rap”), but I’m guessing it has something to do with the bottom line. Just like I tell my favorite crackwhore Candi after shoving a five dollar bill down my skivvies: follow the money, honey. The cost of giving the writers every little fucking thing they wanted would’ve been a drop in the bucket for these companies. We’re talking less per year than the total budget for one Lindsay Lohan romcom misfire, split among 6 fucking studios. A prolonged strike’s gonna cost them a helluva lot more. But what it will allow the studios to do is CUT COSTS across all divisions. Because now they have a perfectly legitimate excuse for massive lay-offs. “Hey it’s not our fault! It’s those damn evil writers!” Profits are up for the industry through quarter 3 (Warner Bros just announced a big Q3 this morning on the trad media side). But Q4 was going to suffer anyway because of lackluster TV. Why not use this strike as an excuse to streamline their businesses, cut down payroll, and show their stockholders that they ain’t gonna bend on labor disputes all in one fell swoop?

I predict a slew of studio lay-offs in divisions like production (obvious) home video (soon to be replaced by digital media anyway), traditional publishing (ditto), development (especially TV) and anyplace else bleeding green. Followed by a fine-tuning of their new media interests. Then, say about Q2 of 2008 (I’m gonna say April), once the writers have been financially and spiritually crushed, once their morale is low and there’s fightin’ and fussin’ and feudin’ among their ranks, expect the AMPTP to throw them a bone on the digital residuals, at a fraction of the rate they would’ve accepted last Sunday. Then expect the studio moguls to LAUGH and LAUGH and LAUGH while twiddling their fingers together like evil men do, all the way to the bank.

That is my psychic opinion. If I’m wrong I’m wrong. If I’m right… well, I’ll probably be out of a job. Picket line? I’ll see you all on the welfare line! Huzzah!

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