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Well done, Hamsterwatchers (Sunday 8/12)

CALL TO ACTION (Saturday 8/11)

Strike bulletin #2

The Producer's New Show

Many years ago there lived a Producer who was so fond of her show that she spent all her PR on it in order for it to be highly rated. She did not care about her cast, her staff or her audience; she only liked to show off her show. She had a competition for every day of the week; and just as they say of a king, 'He is in the council-chamber,' they always said here, 'The Producer is in the pantry.'

In the great studio city in which she lived there was always something going on; every day many feedsters came there. One day some scoundrels arrived who billed themselves as writers, and said that they knew how to manufacture the most beautiful show imaginable. Not only were the cast and twists uncommonly beautiful, but a show made of the stuff possessed this wonderful property that producer manipulation was invisible to anyone who was not fit for his feeds, or who was unpardonably stupid.

'That must indeed be a splendid show,' thought the Producer. 'If I had it on I could find out which viewers in my audience are unfit for the feeds they hold; I could distinguish the wise from the stupid! Yes, this show must be made for me at once.' And she gave the writers much money, so that they might begin their work.

They placed two writers' desks, and began to do as if they were writing, but they had not the least thing on the desks. They also demanded the finest benefits and the best bonuses, which they put in their pockets, and worked at the empty desks till late into the night.

'I should like very much to know how far they have got on with the show,' thought the Producer. But she remembered when she thought about it that whoever was stupid or not fit for her show would not be able to see it. Now she certainly believed that she had nothing to fear for herself, but she wanted first to send somebody else in order to see how she stood with regard to her show. Everybody in the whole audience knew what a wonderful power the show had, and they were all curious to see how bad or how stupid their neighbour was.

'I will send my old and honoured co-producer to the writers,' thought the Producer. 'He can judge best what the show is like, for he has intellect, and no one understands his office better than he.'

Now the good old co-producer went into the hall where the two impostors sat working at the empty desk. 'Dear me!' thought the old co-producer, opening his eyes wide, 'I can see nothing!' But he did not say so.

Both the impostors begged him to be so kind as to step closer, and asked him if it were not a beautiful cast and lovely twists. They pointed to the empty desk, and the poor old co-producer went forward rubbing his eyes; but he could see nothing, for there was nothing there.

'Dear, dear!' thought he, 'can I be stupid? I have never thought that, and nobody must know it! Can I be not fit for my office? No, I must certainly not say that I cannot see the show!'

'Have you nothing to say about it?' asked one of the writers. 'Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!' answered the old co-producer, looking through his spectacles. 'What a cast! What competitions! Yes, I will tell the Producer that it pleases me very much.'

'Now we are delighted at that,' said both the writers, and thereupon they named the competitions and explained the nature of the twist and its later untwisting.

The old co-producer paid great attention, so that he could tell the same to the Producer when he came back to her, which he did.

The impostors now wanted more money, more benefits, and more bonuses for their writing. They put it all in their own pockets, and there came no storylines on the desks, but they went on as they had done before, working at the empty desks. The Producer soon sent another worthy co-producer to see how the writing was getting on, and whether the show would soon be finished. It was the same with him as the first one; he looked and looked, but because there was nothing on the empty desk he could see nothing.

'Is it not a beautiful show?' asked the two impostors, and they pointed to and described the splendid show which was not there.

'Stupid I am not!' thought the man, 'so it must be my good office for which I am not fitted. It is strange, certainly, but no one must be allowed to notice it.' And so he praised the show which he did not see, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful veterans and the splendid recruits. 'Yes, it is quite beautiful,' he said to the Producer.

Everybody in the audience was talking of the magnificent show.

Now the Producer wanted to see it herself while it was still on the desk. With a great crowd of select followers, amongst whom were both the worthy co-producers who had already been there before, she went to the cunning impostors, who were now writing with all their might, but without paper, ink, or word processing software.

'Is it not splendid!' said both the old co-producers who had already been there. 'See, your Majesty, what a twist! What a cast!' And then they pointed to the empty desk, for they believed that the others could see the show quite well.

'What!' thought the Producer, 'I can see nothing! This is indeed horrible! Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Producer? That would be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me. Oh, it is very beautiful,' she said. 'It has my gracious approval.' And then she nodded pleasantly, and examined the empty desk, for she would not say that she could see nothing.

Her whole Court round her looked and looked, and saw no more than the others; but they said like the Producer, 'Oh! it is beautiful!' And they advised her to air this new and magnificent show for the first time at the great premiere which was soon to take place. 'Splendid! Lovely! Most beautiful!' went from mouth to mouth; everyone seemed delighted over it, and the Producer gave to the impostors the title of Staff Writers to the Producer.

Throughout the whole of the day before the night on which the premiere was to take place, the impostors were working by the sound of the early pre-season buzz. The feedsters could see that they were very busy making the Producer's new show ready. They pretended they were taking the show from the desk, allowing huge leaks on the internet, editing segments without monitors, and then said at last, 'Now the show is finished!'

The Producer came herself with her most distinguished minions, and each impostor held up his arm just as if he were holding something, and said, 'See! here are the ads! Here is the twist! Here the coaches!' and so on.

'Spun storylines are so believable that one would imagine one had no show at all; but that is the beauty of it!'

'Yes,' said all the minions, but they could see nothing, for there was nothing there.

'Will it please your Majesty graciously to forget last season,' said the impostors, 'then we will put on the new season, here before the staff meeting.'

The Producer filed away all last season's ratings, and the impostors placed themselves before her as if they were putting on each part of her new show which was ready, and the Producer turned and bent herself in front of the monitor.

'How beautiful it looks! How well it plays!' said everybody. 'What twists! What recruits! It is a gorgeous show!'

'They are waiting outside with the SuperPass which your Majesty is wont to have borne over you after the premiere,' announced the Lovely Chenbot.

'Look, I am ready,' said the Producer. 'Doesn't it play well!' And she turned herself again to the monitor to see if her finery was edited all right.

The feedmasters who were used to carry the feeds put their hands near the knobs as if they were firing up the feeds; then they did as if they were doing something in the air. They would not have it noticed that they could see nothing.

So the Producer went along with the premiere before the splendid SuperPass, and all the feedsters in the streets and at the windows said, 'How matchless is the Producer's new show! That twist fastened to her cast, how beautifully it plays!'

No one wished it to be noticed that he could see nothing, for then he would have been unfit for his feeds, or else very stupid. None of the Producer's shows had met with such approval as this had.

'But she has nothing on!' said a little feedster at last.

'Just listen to the innocent child!' said the subscribing parent, and each one whispered to his neighbour what the child had said.

'But she has nothing on!' the whole of the feedsters called out at last.

This struck the Producer, for it seemed to her as if they were right; but she thought to herself, 'I must go on with the season now.' And the feedmasters walked along still more uprightly, holding up the feeds which were not there at all.

Strike bulletin #1 (Friday 8/10)

Hamsterwatch is on strike (Thursday 8/9)

Ratings - Strike edition