Children's Television Workshop Releases Child Workforce

ollowing the speedy delivery of Mr. Rogers to the afterlife Thursday, the Children's Television Workshop announced it would be releasing all children in its laborforce from contracts within the month. This was in accordance with the wishes of the late Fred Rogers, a children's advocate and fellow children's television producer.

Rogers, who died Thursday shortly after switching back into his business shoes and suit jacket, was a lifelong defender of the rights of children and had negotiated with the Children's Television Workshop for years for its underage hiring practices. Months earlier, Rogers reportedly asked representatives of the CTW as an act of good will to allow the working youth out of their contracts in the event of his death. Thursday, after hearing of their neighbor's passing, CTW representatives announced they would do as Rogers wished.

"Fred Rogers was a dear friend and the kindest man I've ever known," said Children's Television Workshop Vice-President Doug Birch, 23. "I came up in this business, clawed my way up to the top from the mailroom. In all the people I've met in my 20 years at CTW, Fred Rogers never resorted to the 'business-first' mentality so many have. He will be missed."

Birch went on to say the board of directors of CTW declared an emergency meeting after hearing of Rogers' demise, and after a heated argument which included name-calling and crayon-throwing, the board agreed as a gesture to Rogers' memory all contracts with underage CTW workers would be voided, to be re-negotiated if desired. This would release the 3,042 members of the CTW labor force, 92% of which are under 18, from the employ of the company.

Shows such as Sesame Street and The Electric Company will halt production while considering new ways to produce inexpensive public television with the help of rare viewers who actually donate money.

Though child labor laws exist in the United States to prevent the exploitation of children in the production of educational television, offices and studios of the Children's Television Workshop operate predominately in Taiwan, Malaysia, and Canada. Rarely are laws against child labor enforced in such regions.

For some CTW employees, the move means the first taste of freedom since being purchased by the corporation from orphanages and refugee camps; for others, it means powerful leverage for re-negotiating better contracts and living conditions. Either way, most everyone is grateful to the generous request of the late children's television icon.

Sesame Street Co-Producer Steven "Stevie" Robinson: "I remember when I first came in here. Five-year-old kid, timid and scared and seeing all these cameras and wooden sets and expensive equipment, all this stuff you don't think about when you see those kids TV shows on the air. And this guy in a green sweater comes up and says, 'Hi, I'm Fred Rogers. What's your name?' Even then I knew he was a class act. I may be a little older, a little more cynical and suspicious of how the business works, but even now, two years later, I remember the friendliness in that gesture. Children's television should be about the kids. Like me."

While most are pleased by the announcement of the Children's Television Workshop, it still comes at a sad time for all involved in educational television production as the world remembers Fred Rogers.

"Me sad," said Sesame Street ensemble player Cookie Monster. "Me no realize how much Mr. Rogers touch Cookie Monster life until he gone. Me gladly give all cookies in world to have him back."

merica's somehow-President George W. Bush verbally lashed out at Iraq and "evil" regime leader Saddam Hussein Friday, calling Iraq's promise to destroy missiles ordered eradicated by U.N. Weapons Inspectors "a blatant move to prevent a war with their country."

"I, for one, will not get fooled again," said Bush, paraphrasing the Who. "Iraq may think compliance to all our demands will keep us from carrying through with military action. Think again."

The White House comments follow a week of controversy, where Iraq not only appeared to comply with U.N. Weapons Inspectors' demands, but CBS also aired a Dan Rather interview with Saddam Hussein where the dictator voiced his views on the United States, the threat of War, and how the hell two Bushes get elected in America.

When asked by reporters what Iraq could do to prevent a war with the United States at this point, Bush responded, "What are you, terrorist?" A Washington Post columnist was then subdued by Secret Service and detained until evidence could be found to prove him guilty.

A war with Iraq, while not off the table, is losing steam with Iraq's apparent compliance with U.N. demands and other recent factors. Saturday Turkey's parliament failed to approve a bill allowing U.S. troops to set up a base in the country as a northern front against Iraq. France, Germany, Martin Sheen, and Sean Penn have also firmly announced opposition to the war and will likely refuse to lend military support.

In answer to recent protests here and abroad, the president announced his reaction by saying he would not run the country by "listening to focus groups," presumably implying the majority of the American people or anyone who disagreed with him.

"Iraq thinks simply doing whatever they're told by the U.N. will delay a war—well, they've got another thing coming," Bush emphasized, now paraphrasing Judas Priest. "Saddam is up to his old tricks. It may look like he's destroying all his missiles and meeting U.N. requirements, but it's just another shameless attempt to avoid war 'cause he knows what's coming.

"This guy, he knows how to play games," continued Bush, slackening his posture and straying way off-script the way his handlers hate, "but we know how to play games, too. Our game is called Can o' Whupass. And he opened this game when he tried to kill my dad. Can's open, Saddam—you ain't closin' it now."

When the press gallery grew quiet, Bush tossed the podium off the stage with a loud squeal of the fallen microphone. The president then fell to his knees, screaming loudly between sobs: "My dad! He tried to kill my dad! Daddy, no!"

In a less melodramatic White House press release hours later, the administration stressed that even disarming Saddam of all missiles would not reduce the threat he poses to the United States and the free world. The White House indicated they have strong evidence, obtained on the condition they would not show it to anyone, that Saddam Hussein's hands are registered lethal weapons.

Until Saddam Hussein is removed from power, the press release stated in closing, and his hands or at least all fingers are removed by force, the United States must continue efforts to neutralize this threat to the safety of the Western world.

I am the last person anyone would call a homophobe, given my highly litigious nature, but I admit I am not comfortable with the thought of two men acting like two women together. Which is exciting. No, the two-man thing isn't my thing. Still, I say live and let live, especially for me, and whatever you do behind my back is fine with me. Or in front of my back. It's hard to say which is less unsettling with this particular subject.

So I am not "cool" with manly love, that's my business. I don't know why people find it so necessary to make everybody know all the details of their little private life. Ick. And if they find out you're uncomfortable with gayiety, trust me, they only want you more. The gayists, that is. At least, that's what I suspect this is all about. Mario still says it was the kiss of death, but I can't be sure.

The "Mario" in question the head of the Lambito family, the person Camembert and I met with last week to seek an end to all this senseless death, which I of course caused. To everyone's great surprise, things went better than expected. Mario and I took an instant non-homosexual liking to each other, finding we had many things in common, like our diminutive stature and making fun of Camembert's paralysis. Not only did we largely end the mob war, we became the best of friends.

I was so glad to see the mob war come to an end, if for no other reasons I was tired of getting thank-you cards from the FBI. They claim I took out more gangsters in two weeks than 50 years of RICO statutes, but the FBI is known for their sense of humor, maybe they just thought it funny. Regardless, even without the saving of so many innocent-until-proven-guilty lives, the event seemed a blessing just for making the acquaintance of Mario. Never have I heard so many tales of death and mayhem told with so much laughter. His charm was quite infectious, like the hot tub rash we shared.

True, we did share a hot tub, and went shopping for clothes together, and we saw a few theater plays. I did not take it that we were "dating," but maybe Mario got the wrong impression. I tried to steer things to more manly sorts of things, like working out at the gym or going hunting for endangered animals. It was no good. Like fate was drawing us together, every plan I came up with eventually left us either naked, sweaty, or alone together in a tent on a moonlit night. I'm not afraid of my own feelings, but I worry even a straight man put in that situation might find me irresistible.

It was becoming too much for me, so I had to tell Mario I was only interested in him as a friend, in case he was starting to develop feelings. Plus, I was married. Experimenting sexually with another man when you're single or merely engaged or have recently gotten rid of your wife is one thing, but you can't betray your marriage vows. It was a complicated scene, to say the least, made all the more complicated by the fact some of my gangmembers chose that night to whack Mario's brother, the next in line to head the family. Apparently that was why they borrowed the key to Mario's log cabin from me, but when I pieced it together out loud it only made things worse.

And that was when Mario laid the kiss on me, which freaked me out to new levels, and as you know, good people, I'm no stranger to freaking out. I tried to reaffirm how ungay I am, but Mario insisted at that point it was the kiss of death. I suspect he was just covering, though I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So the war is back on, with gusto. Still, a few hundred dead mafioso or one sweet man's broken heart—what's the greater casualty here?

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