"In a move that might make some people scratch their heads, a loosely formed coalition of left-leaning bloggers are trying to band together to form a labor union they hope will help them receive health insurance, conduct collective bargaining or even set professional standards." – "A Union for Bloggers," Associated Press, August 6, 2007
"Would it kill us greedy obese Mc[expletive]s gobbling everything in our path and [vulgarity] on Planet Earth to do SOMETHING about global warming??? [expletive] Repugna-cans and their [expletive] [vulgarity] oil-guzzling phony-crony [vugarity] won't be happy till the East Coast is under the Atlantic, Hawaii is gone, and F-5 tornadoes are devastating Alaska!!!"
With that, "AngryDemGRRRL" clicked "Submit" and put her head in her hands. She was on strike.
Half the country away, "HoorayforChé" had just logged installment number 19 in his series on "Fascist Bush and Cheney-Goebbels Go to Washington." He, too, pushed back the keyboard. A bittersweet moment. The world would have to wait for how Herr Dick plotted with Haliburton executives, unidentified Israeli government officials, and Paul Wolfowitz – Wolfowitz! It's so obvious! – to bring down the World Trade Center, plunge the nation into war in the Middle East, and provide cover for their long-coveted takeover of Iraq. And Curious Georgie just wants revenge for Daddybush.
Meanwhile, Rosie O'Donnell put the finishing touches on her last heartfelt stream-of-bitterness poem: "i m on strike / yeah / we r on strike / i m / u r / but is this justice? / i ask u / what strike would b justice? // the world answers 4 us / an air strike/ but not n iraq / not n afghanistan / u know / o u know where george."
Her fans will understand. They know steel doesn't melt. They know democracy is dead. They will know this strike is for justice.
Around the nation, the first-ever bloggers union strike began in earnest.
Thousands of Internet site admins uploaded the "On Strike" posticon, a little red "mad face smiley" hoisting a cartoon placard that alternates between "No Justice, No Peace" and "Support your local blogger" and marching back and forth across the screen. Thousands of "log out" buttons were clicked. Thousands of refrigerators were raided. Thousands of heads were tilted with brows furrowed. The warriors became surfers, anxiously awaiting the backlash.
How soon till they were missed? When would the corporate-media stench become unbearable? How long could they take the right-wing regurgitation machine? One week? Two?
How long till the sheeple realized the truth?