The collective shrug over a possible SAG strike gathered a few more shoulders today, with representatives for Hollywood's influential Party Planning Mafia acknowledging that no labor impasse (or recession, for that matter) will prevent it from restoring the Golden Globes afterparties to their long-dormant luster. To wit: Press conferences are out, and "plasma screen-outfitted water walls" are in! And that's just for starters.

Take that! In the game of tabloid one-upmanship that is Brad Pitt vs. Jennifer Aniston, Pitt has now issued his own volley meant to counteract Aniston's recent, attention-getting John Mayer praise (he thinks thoughts!). While talking to E!'s Giuliana Rancic at the Benjamin Button premiere, Pitt extolled on Angelina Jolie's beauty. "I get up some mornings and gasp," he said. Sadly, the simple remark ratcheted Aniston's Uncool-ometer from "Just Chillin'" to "Bogus." [E!]

It's scary to think that in a few months we will be deciding whether to recommend Life on Mars or primetime Leno. The decision there seems obvious, but we weep for the talent bookers, researchers and segment producers at the other talk shows who have to keep track of what was said on a new celebutainment program. Is it time to lower segment standards in order to prevent future incidents of anecdote overlap? We say: Yes. Follow Craig Ferguson's lead and talk about whatever you want for seven minutes.

As though ABC didn't have enough conflict-ridden shows on the air, now Fox News is alleging Grey's Anatomy-type shenanigans behind the scenes of its upcoming estrogencom, In the Motherhood. According to Roger Friedman, the show's problem star is Will & Grace star Megan Mullally, who's loudly voiced criticism about the show's quality and is feuding with costar Cheryl Hines:

Despite our best efforts to the contrary by having a Vons worker plunge an inoculation into our arm, we doubt we'll avoid the awards fever epidemic that hits our area this time of year. And how can we not, when historical precedent is being set: That's right. The Los Angeles Critics Association—voting via touchscreen from their Barcalounger hovercraft—have declared that Disney-PIXAR's WALL-E has succeeded in capturing their plaque-encrusted hearts. It's the first animated film in history to receive such an honor, yet didn't quite make the grade when placed against its peers in the Best Animated Film category. (That honor went to Israel's Waltz With Bashir.) If their decision seems unusual, it's not without precedent, as THR points out the group did something similar in 2000 when it gave Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon its top overall honors, but recognized Magical Flying Bamboo Warriors in the Best Kung-Fu Movie That Played Fast and Loose with the Laws of Physics category.

You've heard the charges, you've reviewed the evidence, now hear the testimony: Coldplay issued a statement today insisting that "Viva La Vida" is in fact their own cloying anthem — not lifted from a 12-year-old melody by shreddy guitar legend Joe Satriani. Or, as the quartet so cleverly like to refer to him to their crowds (at least until he sued), "Moe Batriani."

· Jay Leno explained a bit more about his new primetime show's format: "It won't be necessarily comedy, Kevin Eubanks fake-laughing, comedy, more Kevin Eubanks fake-laughing, first guest, Kevin, second guest, Kevin, music." He went on to explain that he plans on mixing up the parts in the broadcast where he cuts to his band-leader's infectious fake laughter. [THR]
· Sony announced from Tokyo that it would make $1.1 billion in cuts and lay off 16,000 members of its workforce, but miraculously, none of them will affect Sony's movie, gaming and music divisions. [Variety]
· Jennifer Anison and Gerard Butler will star in a romantic comedy for Columbia, about a bounty hunter who has to retrieve his ex-wife for skipping bail. A rep for Aniston said the actress is "just amazed Angelina would have said those things in the press. Who does she think she is? Does it get any less cool?" [Variety]
· SAG's Monday night powwow was just the shot in the arm Alan Rosenberg's self-esteem needed. It was like strike-support Viagra! Any disgruntled thespian takers? He can go all night! [Variety]
· The Sex Drive team of Sean Anders and John Morris are in final negotiations to write and direct Hot Tub Time Machine, the most ribald comedy to use Red Bull as a major plot point since Yes Man. [THR]

Blood Suckers: We made our own wishlist for who Summit should pick to helm the next Twilight sequel, but it looks like the fledgling studio had other plans. Bucking murmurs that a female director ought to be picked (and a fanboy consensus that the Summit-friendly Kathryn Bigelow should be offered the job), Nikki Finke reports that an offer has been made to Chris Weitz, who's friends with Summit's head of production. Weitz's last film was the enormous bomb The Golden Compass, a film he developed then departed from when he decided he couldn't handle an effects-heavy film of such scope. He changed his mind and eventually came back to Compass, though the finished flop killed what was intended to be a huge, youth-friendly franchise. That should work out well, then! [Deadline Hollywood Daily]

Hollywood PrivacyWatch: Silverman Edition! 12/8 — I spotted BEN SILVERMAN in the lobby of the Beverly Hills Hotel last night. The Video Hall of Fame event was taking place, so not sure if that's why he was there. Or maybe he just likes the Polo Lounge. much skinnier than I imagined. Eat! Eat! [Hollywood PrivacyWatch is written by and for Defamer readers; send your sightings to tips@defamer.com.]

Though John Mayer will open up about Jennifer Aniston to any paparazzi within shouting distance, Aniston has remained relatively tight-lipped about the troubadour in the press. But again, something about those wily Brits seems to elicit confession, and so it is that Aniston did so much high-voltage gushing about Mayer to the Daily Mirror that she could power an entire In Touch office for a whole year:

To fully appreciate this, we'll ask you now to stop whatever it is you're doing—don't worry, we'll be here when you get back—lay your head down on your keyboard, and drift off to sleep. (Feel free to take whatever prescription sleed-aids you might require to make this happen. Just no fistfuls washed down with a liter of vodka! The weekend is still three days away.) Then, have a co-worker or cohabitant click play on the video above.

Chalk up another victory for the creative class: ABC's obstacle-course competition hit Wipeout will return for two episodes on Super Bowl Sunday, directly challenging both NBC's halftime show featuring Bruce Springsteen and a special postgame edition of The Office. It's the biggest such counterprogramming battle in five years, and as with everything else pertaining to the network these days, the Peacock might be in trouble.

In anticipation of the pop culture nuclear winter to come, actor/writer/comic/former Daily Show correspondent Rob Corddry has begun stockpiling episodes of his new web series Children's Hospital, and lining them like cans of government-issue creamed corn on the shelves of the fallout bunker known as TheWB.com. The first ten episodes of the Grey's Anatomy parody premiered yesterday, and more than delivered on all the taboo-buggering promise of the trailer. Against his handlers' frantic protests, Rob agreed to chat with Defamer, answering all our probing questions about his Daily Show legacy, what it's like being directed by Oliver Stone, and who in the Grey's cast he thinks is a total cunt.

Ever since Don Rickles appeared in the middle of the most painfully awkward Emmy ceremony ever and brought the house down by making fun of it, we've looked forward to the day when he would bring those same powers of incisive cruelty to The View. Today was that day.

Though we can hardly wrap our brains around the fact that after the jump, a video exists of Tom Cruise giving wedding advice to Spencer Pratt, we have to admit it makes a certain amount of cosmic sense. After all, both the actor and the Hills villain found glassy-eyes brides who were willing to make themselves over for their man. Sure, in Katie Holmes's case, the transformation made her into an unlikely fashion plate, while in Heidi Montag's, it turned her into a demented aerobicizer with large hard hats stapled to her breastplate, but no matter! Wait, where were we? Ah, yes: Tom Cruise. Spencer Pratt. Brother to brother. NSFL (Not Safe For Life).

This holiday season, what do you give the shy, socially awkward single man who has everything but a girlfriend? One publisher is betting he'll crave seduction techniques by 9-year-old Alec Greven, the author of the slim new volume How to Talk to Girls. And beyond that, 20th Century Fox will see Greven's book deal and raise it a movie option. Commence sobbing, all you script-hoarding baristas!

Usually, when rumors circulate that an actor may be leaving his hit show, strongly worded denials are forthcoming from the actor, his manager, his publicist, the showrunner, someone's mom, and even a loyal dog as character witness. However, when are things ever business as usual on the war-torn set of Grey's Anatomy? Yesterday's report that T.R. Knight had packed up his dressing room and hadn't attended a table read since the second episode of this season prompted an unnamed Grey's rep — not Knight or any of his management — to issue a vague non-denial denial to Us Weekly. Now, EW is reporting that the rumors are true:

So SAG's fucked. Wait—did we say "fucked?" There we go again—needless doomsday prophesying where Obaman cool-headedness is clearly required. What we meant to say is: "SAG's probably fucked." Yesterday brought a confluence of Pop Culture Doomsday events that not even a walrus blowing like Bird could have foretold:

Hollywood PrivacyWatch: 12/4 — I was waiting outside the glass abyss that is CAA in Century City, waiting for my car from the valet alongside ELLEN POMPEO, a.k.a. Meredith Grey from Grey's Anatomy. She seemed to be with a publicist/agent and was wearing that odd combo of a tank top with like super intense boots and a scarf. Most notable was that she was skinny as eff, I thought she might topple over in the wind. [Hollywood PrivacyWatch is written by and for Defamer readers; send your sightings to tips@defamer.com.]

It's another day to keep your head down around Scott Rudin's office: was snubbed once again in the latest fiery belch from Awards-Season Hell. This time, it was the Broadcast Film Critics Association Critics' Choice Awards issuing the diss among its 2008 nominees, a list where seemingly anything even casually mentioned as Oscar bait in the last three months was recognized — with not just one Revolutionary exception.