“False Carol”
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“The end game is to drag things out until union members start losing their apartments and houses,” a studio executive told Deadline. One insider called it “a cruel but necessary evil.”
We are all happy that the strikes are finally over, but I feel misunderstood. I mean, sure, I raise tons of money to block and raze artists on behalf of multinational media corporations that want to protect their many billions of dollars in beautiful profits. And I understand that with the appearance comes a certain level of public condemnation and ridicule (yes, I’ve seen your nasty tweets and memes and yes, I hope you all die). But before I crawl back to my office in the bowels of a mall in Sherman Oaks, before little old Carol is gone and forgotten for the next three years (or at least until next summer when I get to work on IATSE), I will I want you all to know that I am a human being with hopes (that I won’t get fired) and dreams (someday living in one of those condos above the Cheesecake Factory in Americana) and feelings (a frightening, unwavering greed) and fears (Ellen Stutzman).
Is it a noble endeavor to dedicate one’s life to working to keep costs low enough so that CEOs can convince Wall Street that they are good at their jobs? Maybe, maybe not – but it is necessary. Someone has to make over $3 million a year for this job, so why not me? Do you think Bob Iger and Ted Sarandos want to moor their yachts for months to hear Chris Keyser throw himself into them so that writers can barely afford their lives? Do you think Donna Langley and David Zaslav want to sit in a room for hours trying to maintain a respectful tone towards the nanny and her emotional support stuffed animal? Believe me, they don’t. This is where I come into play. I am the veil through which show and business must touch each other. I am the human shield that protects the trade from artists. I’m Carol, fucking Lombardini, and whether you like it or not, you need me.
Because what would you do without me? Distribute the enormous sums of money that your collective creativity generates fairly among all the people who contributed to it? No, that would be chaos! We have to do business. Deals are the hidden mechanisms that keep the old Hollywood dream factory (mmm, just the word “factory” gets me going) running. And do you know what makes deals happen? Pain. Pain on both sides – maybe it’s because your skin was singed in the middle of summer in LA because the shade trees you were picketing were mysteriously destroyed, or maybe you have to work through a weekend because you waited over 140 days to actually negotiate and now Yom Kippur is around the corner and you were planning on going to Ibiza. Maybe you’ll lose your home, your life’s savings, or the professional momentum you’ve been trying to build for years – or maybe you’ll lose a startup time because Duncan Crabtree-Island wants to talk more about boring AI language. Look, the point is that we all suffered.
But what was all the suffering for? Now that the deals are done and the picket lines are abandoned, the entire industry must look to its future – beyond the billions lost, beyond the lives destroyed, beyond the simmering devastation I have caused in pursuit of my union-busting fantasies. Both artists and commercials need to come together again and return to the core ideals they both share: creating content. Optimizing this content for algorithms. Monetizing this content in speculative and dubious new business models. And sometimes that content just gets deleted and disappears when someone could save a few bucks on their corporate tax return. After all, these are the very dreams that brought us all to this crazy city full of tinsel!
While I wish you all the best of luck in the brave new world of technology-driven content creation that creates value for shareholders, your friend will be right back here at the Galleria where she belongs, trying to decide between PF Chang’s and Cheesecake Factory for lunch (spoiler alert: she does a “Bang Bang Bang Bang” where you get Bang Bang Shrimp from Chang’s and then mix it with Bang Bang Chicken from Cheesecake).
I only ask that you remember me from time to time as I was and as I remain: a cruel but necessary evil.
Smash the work with love, (Fake) Carol