North Korea vs. Sony Pictures – Interview in a Quagmire

Despite the impending holidays, I still manged to get overbooked this week, which lead to Gretchen and me having to work nine and one half hours on a Saturday. The increasing urgency of various matters around the planet have made it nearly impossible for me to work a decent five day week anymore, but in an economy where millions of overqualified professionals are still settling for jobs at WalMart, complaints would be unseemly, I know, and I certainly am not about to kvetch about the gold nuggets in my mill stream. Yesterday, for example, I made enough money that your typical PhD environmental scientist could pay the tuition covering vocational rehabilitation training as a Microsoft certified .NET developer with it. Furthermore, I consider it significant of America’s greatness, not its weaknesses, that we have so many PhDs in so many subjects that a considerable portion of them are unable to obtain work in their chosen fields of extreme expertise. Alas, the United States of the twenty-first century has extreme experts up the wazoo, but what we really need is more competent plumbers, auto mechanics, and C# coders. And before I get any enraged emails, let me extend my apologies to plumbers and auto mechanics for comparing them the C# developers. After all, you can teach C# to a teenager (and often even to a PhD) in a few months, while it takes years of dedicated apprenticeship to become an auto mechanic or a plumber.
Nevertheless, by contrast, there a number of people with post-graduate degrees who are managing well enough here in Washington DC – which isn’t a bad place to be highly educated, actually – and it was around six o’clock Saturday evening that Dr. Zoe Nőiszurdok Fenék-Szemmel, who received her PhD in Cinema Marketing Sociology, Economics and Finance from the Corvinus University of Budapest, and is now the current Public Relations Director of the Federated Association of Motion Picture Theater, Drive-in Movie, Video Game Arcade and Bowling Alley Owners, Operators, Cooperatives and Affiliated Limited Liability Holding Companies and Subchapter S Corporations of the United States, Canada, New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, Hong Kong, the Channel Islands, Bermuda and Belize paid me a visit for a consultation. She’s tall, she’s blonde, and she’s muscular, and no doubt she scares the crap out of about ninety-five percent of the men she meets. Not bad looking, though – very well put together, in fact. And as might be inferred, her personality is the kind that would lead her to select the chair immediately in front of my desk, which she did.
“Mr. Collins,” she began, “The Federation needs your help.”
By six o’clock, I must confess, it had been a long day. I had listened patiently to and given advice about Ebola, the Crimea, the Ruble, the Pound, the Yen, combating the illegal African Coltan trade, sea level rise due to global warming, factors pertaining to EU central bank reserve rates, propaganda methods to deal with the resurgence of Hindu fundamentalism in Hyderabad, schemes to save the critically endangered white rhinoceros, tactics to finish the Keystone Pipeline, strategies to get Elizabeth Warren into the 2016 presidential race and several hours of classified discussions concerning things of similar importance that I can’t mention in my Web Log. So I couldn’t resist. I said, “Oh, Jesus, it’s not another Cardassian invasion, is it?”
“Invading Cardassians,” she coolly replied, “are Paramount’s problem. I’m here about what North Korea did to Sony Pictures Entertainment.”


“In my humble opinion,” I informed her, “it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving bunch of lying, thieving, two-faced, conniving, manipulative, scheming, back-stabbing, self-promoting, vain, arrogant, shifty, mendacious, deceptive, irresponsible, dissembling, unreliable, tasteless, greedy, unprincipled, amoral, idiotic and ignorant philistine phonies in all of the raped, tortured, mutilated and godforsaken artistic wasteland that is Hollywood.”
“Are you kidding me?” she objected, “Sony Pictures is exactly like all the other motion picture studios!”
“Exactly my point,” I confirmed. “But what do you care?”
“Well, to tell the truth,” she sighed, “we don’t. If Sony Pictures wants to make a Seth Rogan stoner comedy about assassinating Kim Jong-un, Robert Mugabe, Ali Khamenei, Vladimir Putin, Fidel Castro, Gul Dukat or Senator Palpatine, we frankly couldn’t care less. And if Kim Jong-un or any of those other guys wants to hire a bunch of hackers to overcome Sony Pictures’ totally lame, utterly pathetic Microsoft security system and steal every last byte of Sony’s precious corporate data, that’s none of our concern, either. But on the other hand, when North Korea, Zimbabwe, Iran, Russia, Cuba, the Obsidian Order or the Galactic Empire pay those same scumbags to threaten our members’ cineplexes with violence, then the Federated Association of Motion Picture Theater, Drive-in Movie, Video Game Arcade and Bowling Alley Owners, Operators, Cooperatives and Affiliated Limited Liability Holding Companies and Subchapter S Corporations of the United States, Canada, New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, Hong Kong, the Channel Islands, Bermuda and Belize definitely does have a problem!”
“Which is what?” I inquired. “Last I heard, you and the rest of the movie theater industry chickened out and pulled The Interview from all of your venues.”
“We sure did,” she confirmed. “Look at all the lawsuits filed against the movie theater owners after that mass murder incident at that Batman movie in Colorado a couple of years ago! And you know, speaking of scumbags, the plaintiffs’ trial lawyers are arguing that the theater owners should have known some deranged paranoid lunatic was going to barge in during the movie and start shooting people.”
“Trial lawyers,” I pointed out, “are under an obligation to argue the most plausible theories available to further a judgement in their client’s favor. If maintaining that the theater owners should have been clairvoyant is the best they can do, then so be it – they will argue that no matter how absurd it sounds to the motion picture theater trade associations or anyone else. It betrays a certain weakness in their case, of course; however, we need to consider…”
“They have no case!” she insisted.
“That’s not for me – or you – to decide,” I replied. “The plight of your organization’s members is obvious, though. Here’s this, ahem – shall we say, work of cinematic art – which, under normal circumstances your members would gladly present to the America public for their edification and amusement. But you know, all too well, shadowy voices have threatened dire consequences should that occur. Naturally, those members of your association who own, operate or possess controlling interests in motion picture theaters are aware of what happened in Aurora, Colorado, and I’m sure they feel no more responsible for the disgusting mixture of blood and guts spilled all over the floor amid the popcorn detritus, discarded candy wrappers and thick, sticky film of freshly evaporated high-fructose corn syrup carbonated soft drinks than do the fine ladies and gentlemen who designed, manufactured, shipped and sold the firearms which that unfortunate schizophrenic used to put it there. No, the gun manufacturers don’t feel the least bit responsible, do they? And neither does Sony Pictures.”
“That’s right!” she bellowed back at me. “After President Obama criticized them and said they’d made a mistake, they laid everything on us!”
“Correctly,” I noted.
“Oh come on!” she insisted. “Sixty percent of our theater members operate venues in shopping malls. And fifty-nine point seven percent of them contacted us here in Washington within four hours of the so-called ‘Guardians of Peace’ threatening violence if we screened that stupid Sony Pictures movie! Well, pulling that picture wasn’t their idea, I can tell you that! You know what happened? As soon as the news got out about the threats, every business in the mall was calling them – sometimes even the mall management company, too – and all they could say is screw this imbecilic movie, showing the damn thing to the kind of morons who find Seth Rogan and James Franco witty and amusing simply isn’t worth the risk to the mall and the business in it. And the other forty percent who operate movie theaters in American neighborhoods got the same barrage of demands from the local residents and business communities.”
“Proving,” I observed, “that the average American is mighty brave when they’re sitting on their living room lounge chair half way around the world with the greatest navy, army and air force in history standing between them and the forces of tyranny, oppression and evil; but beneath that confident facade is a craven coward who runs like a rabbit if some tin-pot dictator threatens to hit the local movie theater.”
“As if!” she huffed, exasperated. “Behaving like that – it’s ridiculous! It’s absurd! Can you imagine what clueless, half-witted dolts those people must be?”
“Based on the motion pictures they flock to your members’ theaters to see,” I averred, “unfortunately, yes.”
A pregnant pause ensued. After a protracted exchange of facial expressions, she spoke.
“Nobody ever lost a dime underestimating the intelligence or the taste of the American people. I know that, and I am sure you do, too. Rest assured, Mr. Collins, if it were up to me, American motion picture theaters would not be presenting hundred million dollar sequels to shallow, vapid, juvenile stories based on comic books, toys and computer games starring callow, insipid fools who couldn’t act their way out of a paper bag if their miserable lives depended on it. But it’s not – it’s up to the public, because if a hundred million people don’t go to see a major motion picture, nobody can stop them. And if what they want is to be fed a steady diet of vacuous, formulaic pap, then by God, the free market and the American system are going to make sure they get it! Our members are in business to make a profit, Mr. Collins, and that’s what giving the public the artistic baloney they want does. Okay, so you and I don’t like baloney – so what? Sure, we’d rather have pâté, and so would most of the folks who own and operate the motion picture theaters we represent. But baloney is what the public wants, and so it’s baloney we give them. It’s their fifteen dollars, isn’t it? And by the same token, our members are not in business to risk their entire investment screening a motion picture about which a group that has already demonstrated considerable… malicious acumen… has made clear and unambiguous announcements to the effect that you might die laughing while watching Kim Jong-un get assassinated by Seth Rogan and James Falco.”
“And that’s your prerogative,” I acknowledged. “You figure North Korea sucks, Seth Rogan sucks, James Falco sucks and Sony Pictures sucks – let them fight it out in their own massive suck-fest. It’s your motion picture theater – why get involved? After all, it’s only one movie, right?”
“Correct,” she agreed. “But that’s what I’m here about – what’s the best approach for the movie theater owners and operators avoid being blamed for pulling The Interview from their venues?”
In response, I opened a desk drawer. Inside was a medicine container from CVS – the kind vended to customers who get a month’s worth of antibiotics: a brown plastic cylinder, a bit over two inches long, about an inch thick, with a white plastic cap. It was stuffed full of sinsemillia joints. For medicinal purposes only, of course. I much prefer absinthe, in fact. There are, however, those times when nothing but good old Mary Jane will do.
It just so happens I had seen The Interview in conjunction with another consultation earlier in the week. And, in fact, I had a complete digital file of it, which I proceeded to project on the ninety-six inch ultra high definition digital display mounted on the wall opposite my desk, over the heavy oak doors leading to the reception area.
After I had issued a few commands from my workstation, blackout blinds descended, obscuring the picture window overlooking the White House and the room lights dimmed. “Doctor Fenék-Szemmel,” I announced as I rolled my chair in front of my desk, pulled out a lighter and held one of the joints aloft, “we are going to smoke this bad boy and watch that lame-brained, knuckled-headed movie. Turn your chair around and look up there.”
One hundred and twelve minutes later, Dr. Fenék-Szemmel turned to me and said, “Okay, so… um… I get it now. But what do we do?”
“Have the Federation foot the bill for the following things,” I recommended. “First, pay for all the Secret Service overtime necessary for a screening of The Interview over there at the White House for President Obama and whoever he wants to invite. Second, pay for all the DC police, US Park Police and DHS expenses to provide security for a giant screen showing of The Interview on the Ellipse along with Team America. Run it for an entire weekend, three shows a night, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Third, put up a million bucks to subsidize distribution of The Interview over cable and the Internet free of charge to the first two hundred thousand people who download it. And fourth, the Federation should buy enough DVDs for every public library in the United States and send a copy to all of them.”
“Wow, right, yeah,” she exclaimed. “That will prove that even though the theater owners and operators are total pussies, we still, like, you know, support the First Amendment and stuff.”
“Exactly,” I confirmed.
“Okay, like, yeah, then I guess that takes care of it,” she declared. “So – can we smoke another one of those cigarettes now?”