The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

(A semi-regular Q&A with "Randy" the new Star Tribune Reader's Representative, most frequently found on the corner stool at the Dry Dock roadhouse, in the shadow of the big microwave tower, Chaffey, Wisconsin.)

Randy, Your Reader's Rep: Dang but stuff piles up. I come back from baitin' a few bear traps, havin' a couple beers and getting old Jonsered ready for cuttin' season and look at all this mail. Sheeeit. When the Star Tribune hired me back, I had no idea they really meant a weekly gig. I thought with little Par out sun-bathin' it'd quiet down.

Guess not. So here goes.

Question: I heard that the staff at the Star Tribune all got flu shots the other day? Is this true? Where did this happen? Were these shots administered in a sanitary way? And did the top executives join in?

Randy, Your Reader's Rep: That is definitely true. Flu season is coming on pretty strong, and Avista Capital Partners, the really fine folks that own the paper want all their Full Time Employee Units running like a big pack of Dodge Hemis. There are a lot of very big stories that are going to mean plenty to the Avista folks' year-end numbers. Like for example, 'Who is going to buy them damned parking lots?', and whether the folks in Eveleth and Granite Falls are going to pitch in to build a new stadium for the Vi-Queens, which would mean Avista might have half a chance of selling the main building to what's his name, the billionaire dude from New Jersey.

As for "where it happened"; it wasn't in the butt, Bob.

I know. I know. I heard some pretty risque jokes about everyone standing up, dropping trow and bending over at their desks while Chris Harte went down the line pokin' tushies. But the truth is everyone took it in the arm.

Don't know about the sanitary thing. I suppose a bunch of $4 coffee drinkers like that crowd used ... ooooo ... pre-moistened towelettes, like you get at Famous Dave's. But I'm not sure. I mean, hell, I usually just wave a butane lighter under my buck knife to cut out slivers.

But yeah. Chris Harte himself took a pokin'. Right there in line like he was a normal person or something. Ain't that something?

Funny though how happy and agreeable everyone was for the rest of the day.

Question: I was reading that bastard Nick Coleman's column a couple days ago and I noticed that right next to his little picture, the one where he doesn't look anything like George Clooney, it said, "One view". Was that a typo or something? I mean, he's writing a column, right? Who else's view were we supposed to think it was? And does this mean that all the other columnists, like Katherine Kersten and C.J. and Sid Hartman and Reusse are going to have "One View" next to their pictures. (And none of them look much like George Clooney, either.)

Randy, Your Reader's Rep: That's a good question. Tell you the truth, I didn't notice until you brought it up. So I sent a note asking what the deal was. Nobody wrote back. But I hear through the old company grapevine that no one told Coleman about it and no one knew who put it there. But come on, there are so many brave and courageous editors at the Star Tribune doing so many important things to, you know, enhance the quality of life in the better zip codes of Minneapolis they probably just overlooked it.

My guess is all whoever stuck it there meant to say is that, "This is that commie prick Coleman's view, not our view." In fact, I gotta check and see if it says, "Our View" next to Kersten's and Sid's pictures the next time they write.

Question: That blonde Republican babe, Sarah Janecek, wrote a story this week saying how a couple of your reporters used some pretty foul language talking to the MnDOT people. Those guys McEnroe and Kennedy sounded like jerks. I suppose they were pretty ashamed when that story came out, and they must really be pissed that people know how obnoxious they are.

Randy, Your Reader's Rep: Oh yeah, and how. I tell you, nothing
makes those two stick their tales between their legs more than everyone in town knowing they shout in the phone and use words like, "bullshit". I don't know what they were smiling about after that thing ran.

Because, we have a very strict policy about bad language here at the Star Tribune. Penalties, too. If you're heard saying, "This place is total bullshit", you have to put a dollar in the Save Par jar. If you say, "I'm going to cap the next a**hole who assigns me an Eagan Sewer Commission story", you have put in $5. Of course if you say something like, "These Avista douche bags wouldn't know a paragraph from a parsnip," you have a choice between hurling yourself off the roof or editing a Katherine Kersten column.

Question: I see that you are starting to run more editorials supporting a new Vikings stadium, which would be built practically right next door and most likely goose up your real estate value pretty nicely. Don't you think you need to at least mention that fact every time you write opinion pieces? You know, maybe a standard little box at the top that says something like, "If you stupid chumps bite on this deal we'll make a shitload of dough."

Randy, Your Reader's Rep: Man, I've heard cynical. But you about take the jelly donut. You got something against football? You want to see a place without a team I suggest you come up to Superior, because that's what you're going to end up with if you don't close ranks and play to win, pally.

The folks at Avista Capital Partners, some of whom have even heard of Green Bay, are actually doing you one shiny ripe favor. They are looking out for your interests when obviously you won't. They are family people just like you, and they know that special feeling fans get when they contribute a little bit extra out of every pay check to have a place where, you know, if they cut their coupons and save up a couple months they might be able to take their kid to see a game. Three months if they want to park and have a beer.

Until next time. Think transparent thoughts.

The average couch tuber probably isn't tracking this TV writers strike too much. Not beyond fretting over an early end to Heroes and no new Daily Shows. Beyond that the affected "workers," a lot of smart-ass Bimmer-driving West L.A. espresso sippers, are never going to win an outpouring of empathy from the people who obsessively consume their programming.

I'm not going to argue that this is the moral equivalent of the Harlan County coal miners, but as so many businesses, media in particular, try to find a way to monetize the Internet, this particular strike seems likely to set some important precedents for a lot of industries, possibly even newspapers.

For a short (and funny) primer on the basics of the TV strike, check out this video posted yesterday by The Daily Show writers.

The central claim is this: On one hand a media tycoon like Viacom's Sumner Redstone, (Viacom owns Paramount Pictures, CBS, MTV, Blockbuster video, etc.), will sue YouTube for $1 billion based on its perceived effect -- financial -- to his value, while simultaneously arguing that there isn't enough value on the Net to justify sharing .... ANYTHING ... brought in via new technologies with the people who created it.

No one knows for sure what tomorrow will bring, but the TV writers are smart enough to know that unless they nail down every possibility today they will continue seeing zip tomorrow ... as billions in value pile up around the feet of the Redstones, and Rupert Murdochs of the planet.

Ron Moore, showrunner for the series, Battlestar Galactica gave an interview offering a tangible example of how the media empires are overplaying their hand.

He says:

"Fundamentally this is about the internet, and this is about whether writers get paid for material that is made for the internet or if they're paid for material that is broadcast on the internet that was developed for TV or movies.

"I had a situation last year on Battlestar Galactica where we were asked by Universal to do webisodes, which at that point were very new and 'Oooh, webisodes! What does that mean?' It was all very new stuff. And it was very eye opening, because the studio's position was 'Oh, we're not going to pay anybody to do this. You have to do this, because you work on the show. And we're not going to pay you to write it. We're not going to pay the director, and we're not going to pay the actors.' At which point we said 'No thanks, we won't do it.'"

"We got in this long, protracted thing and eventually they agreed to pay everybody involved. But then, as we got deeper into it, they said 'But we're not going to put any credits on it. You're not going to be credited for this work. And we can use it later, in any fashion that we want.' At which point I said 'Well, then we're done and I'm not going to deliver the webisodes to you.' And they came and they took them out of the editing room anyway -- which they have every right to do. They own the material -- But it was that experience that really showed me that that's what this is all about. If there's not an agreement with the studios about the internet, that specifically says 'This is covered material, you have to pay us a formula - whatever that formula turns out to be - for use of the material and how it's all done,' the studios will simply rape and pillage."

If you missed it, Damon Lindelhof, co-creator/writer of NBC's Lost, wrote an Op-Ed piece in last Sunday's New York Times, a key assertion of his was this:

"Twenty percent of American homes now contain hard drives that store movies and television shows indefinitely and allows you to fast-forward through commercials. These devices will probably proliferate at a significant rate and soon, almost everyone will have them. They’ll also get smaller and smaller, rendering the box that holds them obsolete, and the rectangular screen in your living room won’t really be a television anymore, it’ll be a computer. And running into the back of that computer, the wire that delivers unto you everything you watch? It won’t be cable; it will be the Internet."

He adds:

"My show, Lost, has been streamed hundreds of millions of times since it was made available on ABC’s website. The downloads require the viewer to first watch an advertisement, from which the network obviously generates some income. The writers of the episodes get nothing. We’re also a hit on iTunes (where shows are sold for $1.99 each). Again, we get nothing.

If this strike lasts longer than three months, an entire season of television will end this December. No dramas. No comedies. No Daily Show. The strike will also prevent any pilots from being shot in the spring, so even if the strike is settled by then, you won’t see any new shows until the following January. As in 2009. Both the guild and the studios we are negotiating with do agree on one thing: this situation would be brutal."

With talk that a long strike, relegating viewers to 52-week runs of Dog the Bounty Hunter and Tila Tecquila (and worse) could do for internet "programming" what the 1988 writers strike did for cable programming this Los Angeles Times piece, with a quote from Twin Cities-based media guru, John Rash, lays out the consumer conundrum. In short, pulp TV junkies though we may be, most of us have been spoiled by the production values of scripted television.

Personally, I've got a stack of unwatched DVDs six feet high, college basketball will soon be in high gear and I can happily spend months without a fresh episode of Two and a Half Men.

But the somewhat out-of-left field relation to newspaper writers is not so much that Katherine Kersten deserves a cut of every dollar Avista Capital Partners might make re-packaging her "Worst of the Flying Imams" columns for dowloading, but rather the pressure to add blogging and other web-related work to the existing job description ... without additional compensation.

It goes without saying that there aren't more than a half dozen writers at either paper with the leverage to demand more compensation for anything, even if they agreed to spit polish the publisher's car. But the point is ... the future, man.

The Pioneer Press recently wrapped a new contract with Dean Singleton's Media News group and Guild officer/reporter Alex Friedrich says discussions of additional duties were pretty much brushed away in the rush to conclude negotiations quickly.

"There is no new language in the contract that forces us provide any new work for the web," says Friedrich. There was also no discussion of anyone getting paid more for blogging and taking pictures, etc.

Friedrich says the Guild made the point that they see a need to "get this thing laid out" in the not -too distant future, but that it just didn't happen this time around.

"Our big thing," he says, "is what 'What are we going to judged on?' All of us recognize that things are changing, and I know I don't mind taking a picture. But I want some assurance that I won't be dinged if it takes time away from my main job."

The bet here is that, win or lose, the TV writers will establish precedents for a lot of other "creative" industries.