Stories of how crushed jilted UTA agent Nick Stevens was to discover that soulmate-client Jim Carrey defected to hated, baby-devouring rival CAA will probably continue to trickle in over the next few weeks, with new anecdotes of Carrey callously returning a once-cherished locket containing a tiny image of his beloved, longtime rep by mail, or of Stevens awaking in tears each morning after realizing that the days of Carrey rousing him with an ass-ventriloquism version of a reveille are over, freshly punctuating the sadness of a messy break-up. But business in Hollywood must carry on regardless of how many "Take me back! Love, Nick" Post-It love notes the star finds clinging to the windshield of his Range Rover, so today's NY Times does its part to illustrate the complicated realignment of comedy power following both the Carrey/Stevens divorce and that of Carrey's power-brokering managers, Jimmy Miller and Eric Gold in easy-to-understand, Venn diagram form. Mercifully, the Times refrained from including a circle depicting UTA clients poached by CAA, which would have done nothing but rub salt in the agency's still-suppurating wounds as it tries to come to terms with the end of the highly lucrative Carrey Era.

THR reports that as expected, freshly unattached star Jim Carrey didn't need much alone time to recover from the end of his longtime relationship with UTA, already leaping into the outstretched, Armani-clad arms of hated rival CAA, who've made a fun little game out of poaching both their agents and clients over the last year or so. The LA Weekly's Nikki Finke devotes this week's entire column to the big defection, noting that now-former rep Nick Stevens tried to give Endeavor superagent Ari Emanuel tips on where Carrey likes to be tickled, hoping to keep him from winding up between slutty CAA's spread legs, and describing the final, painful moments of Stevens and Carrey's relationship:

Jim Carrey has been noticing a troubling, recurring motif emerging throughout his career lately, wherein studio executives have realized that paying the actor tens of millions of dollars to terrorize a movie set and ultimately deliver a box office stinker was perhaps not the most cost efficient strategy. They then decide to "put a pin" in the projects, as the Hollywood parlance goes, much as you would do to a balloon. Carrey is still getting work, just not the kind of $150 million-in-chewable-CGI-scenery roles to which the actor is accustomed. He has now taken the only logical recourse: firing the agency that built him from an unknown Canadian comic into the megastar he is.

Radar has awoken from a nine-month hibernation to relaunch its website today, celebrating the rebirth with the publication of its poll of the "industry's heaviest hitters" that it first started researching back around the time of its 1981 "Ron Howard Washed Up At 27?" issue. The survey doesn't really contain any surprises: Howard is nice, Brett Ratner's a hack, Russell Crowe has a temper problem, and CAA's partners are the agents you'd most like to have devouring babies on your behalf. Among Radar's "winners" is Imagine Entertainment superproducer Brian Grazer, whose signature "Produced By Brian Grazer, From An Idea Brian Grazer Had While Distracted By A Shiny Object During A Meet-And-Greet With Stephen Hawking, And Directed By A Guy Brian Grazer Hand-Selected to Execute Brian Grazer's Uncompromising Vision" movie credit seems to have rankled some of his peers:

Never underestimate the psychic toll a messy break-up can take on an individual, even a two-time Oscar-winning actress. According to a National Enquirer report, so distraught was Hilary Swank in the aftermath* of her jettisoning of longtime househusband Chad Lowe that she reverted emotionally to a much less famous stage of her life, one where sleeping with her agent seemed like a reasonable thing to do (he'd make her feel pretty, and maybe score her some better auditions), and not a shocking violation of the unspoken rules governing the sexual conduct of the A-list caste. Relates The Scoop:

The Wicked Chops Poker blog has alerted us that a statement, along with a thousand white doves artfully adorned with red and black card suits, has been released from the windows of B/W/R, the publicity firm hired by widely contested former "Hollywood agent" Jamie Gold just moments after winning the World Series of Poker championship. As you may recall, for some reason, Gold's associate Crispin Leyser is suing for half of the $12 million winnings—the miscommunication might have something to do with the message Gold left on Leyser's voicemail, saying, "I promise you - you can keep this recording on my word - there's no possible way you're not going to get half after taxes."

Shortly after the Wall Street Journal transmitted partially mummified Viacom executive Sumner Redstone's (self-serving, possibly face-saving) bitchslap signalling the messy, astonishingly public end of Paramount's 14-year relationship with Tom Cruise and his production company late yesterday, other news organizations scrambled over to Cruise/Wagner to ask them if the impact from the back of Redstone's strong pimp-hand left any liver-spot marks. After rubbing a soothing aloe-based balm into their still-stinging cheeks, Cruise's producing partner and agent (whom, we should note, are married) stirred some outrage, disgust, and veiled threats into a damage control cocktail for the LAT:

Wicked Chops Poker's blog points us to today's Las Vegas Sun story about a lawsuit filed against fame-fearing, resume-embellishing former agent and World Series of Poker champion Jamie Gold by Crispin Leyser, a "television producer" (given Gold's disputed background, we feel the need for ironic quotes on Hollywood occupations referenced in the story) claiming that Gold promised him half of his $12 million winnings for arranging the high-powered celebrity presence of Matthew "Scooby" Lillard and Dax "Punk'd" Shepherd for Bodog.com, who in return paid for Gold's seat at the tournament. According to the lawsuit, Leyser has voicemails from Gold promising him his 50-percent cut of the final table winnings (after taxes, naturally):

The Toronto Film Festival line up is announced, featuring offerings from up-and-comers Ridley Scott, Ethan Hawke, Russell Crowe, Jude Law, Sandra Bullock, Sigourney Weaver, Brad Pitt, and Gwyneth Paltrow. [Variety]
· In a joint interview with ICM head Jeff Berg, Chris Silbermann, partner in recently acquired boutique agency BWCS, describes the transaction: "This is not an acquisition of need; this is a merger of desire." You may now stab yourself in the ear with a letter opener to halt the flood of images of pieces of Armani suits dropping to the floor, followed by the two merger-crazed agents rushing into each other's arms, finally ready to consummate their deal of passion. [THR]
· Paramount elevates MTV Films and Nickelodeon Movies from "studio-based production companies" to "full-fledged divisions." Nothing gets us more excited than a nice, hot corporate restructuring story. [Variety]
The Weinstein Co. picks up the Dixie Chicks documentary Shut up and Sing, about the fallout from the country group's fateful decision to express an unfavorable public opinion about George W. Bush. [THR]
To appease the nation's anti-smoking lobby, Turner Broadcasting will edit out smoking in classic Hanna-Barbera cartoons
that air in the U.K., such as Tom and Jerry, The Flintstones, and Scooby-Doo, as well as completely erase from existence the character of Mr. Spacely, George Jetson's cigar-chomping boss. [Variety]

· A reader chided us for not paying proper attention to today's LAT business section cover story (sorry, we got tangled up in rubber snakes) on Paradigm's Sam Gores, especially to the gigantic photo of the agency head in his huge office. Observes our just-appointed Defamer Special Correspondent on The Misallocation of Talent Agency Square Footage, "In a company with assistants LITERALLY in closets, he's in an office that takes up half a floor." We're just wondering which of Gores' billionaire brothers bought him all of that beautiful furniture.
What Happens in Metropolis Stays in Metropolis is like grabbing the Man of Steel's cape and hanging on for dear life as he flies through Vegas, drugging the occasional sexual partner and unintentionally killing the odd hooker.
We can easily see Paramount handing out this pamphlet extolling the budget-conscious virtues of Dumpster diving to its freshly shitcanned employees.
The AP writer covering the Teen Choice Awards was obviously high when he wrote that Kevin Federline's performance "wasn't genius, but it wasn't half bad either." Or if we're going to give him the benefit of the doubt, momentarily mesmerized by Britney Spears' cleavage.

Whenever it suits our petty, reality-twisting agenda, Defamer is committed to dedicating the occasional post to the furthering of a reasoned debate on a story we've covered. In response to our Special Correspondent on Onetime Agents Who May Have Bluffed About Their Client Lists' missive about fame-fearing, resume-embellishing World Series of Poker champion Jamie Gold, a former client writes in to defend Gold from blog-enabled character assassination:

When newly crowned World Series of Poker champion and former agent Jamie Gold expressed trepidation about the fame that would inevitably accompany a win in poker's biggest tournament— the kind of fame he compared to that which makes people think that James Gandolfini possesses Christ-like healing powers—perhaps he also feared that people within the entertainment industry might call bullshit on the resume he'd been providing to the press during his run to the championship. The Defamer Special Correspondent on Onetime Agents Who May Have Bluffed About Their Client Lists offers his perspective on some holes in Gold's backstory:

Former agent Jamie Gold lost his valiant battle with fame early this morning, winning the World Series of Poker (on a bluff, naturally), its $12 million purse, and the lifelong curse of being upsold to a multisong, private room lapdance by every stripper in Vegas who recognizes him as "that rich poker guy." Keenly aware of their newest ambassador's ambivalence for his forced role as the Face of Poker, World Series organizers made Gold as comfortable as possible by supplementing their monetary spoils with a treat harkening back to his Hollywood life as an agent, hiding a fleshy, newborn baby inside the pile of his prize money, then inviting him to burrow inside right there at the table and partake of his victory snack.

Reality show producer and former agent Jamie Gold is currently the chip leader at the World Series of Poker No Limit Hold 'Em Championship in Vegas, but he's terrified of winning—not because he's afraid of the millions of dollars he'd take home, as an agent's moneylust never truly fades, but rather because he fears the fame that a victory will bring. In an interview with ESPN.com, Gold explains why the idea of instant celebrity is so frightening that he openly muses about taking a dive into second place:

The Battle of Mel Gibson continues to rage on the advertising pages of the industry's trade publications, as today's Hollywood Reporter features a two-pager by Gavin de Becker (included autobiography: "Author of Bestselling Books about Violence and Words, Bar Mitzvah 1968, Graduated Hebrew School 1969, Never Been Really Drunk, Said Plenty of Regrettable Things When Sober" ) calling out Endeavor superagent Ari Emanuel over his well-publicized, proposed boycott of the troubled, mouthy Malibu despot. While less economical than yesterday's open letter by semiprofessional ad copywriter Rob Schneider, De Becker scores more laughs by bringing up that Gibson's threat to fuck an officer on the scene probably didn't indicate a real desire to forcibly fornicate in the back of a squad car [Ed.note—Not so sure about this—he was pretty drunk and riled up by the "sugar tits" nearby. ], and his great line that he's "heard (sober) agents say things so hateful and unkind that even Deputy Mee wouldn't jot them down." He's definitely got a point on the latter observation, but it would be a massive conflict of interest for Emanuel to organize a boycott against his own profession, not to mention the chaos and looting that would instantly result along Wilshire Boulevard should thousands of agents be put out of work simultaneously. But we digress.

In today's story about the second draft of Mel Gibson's public apology, in which the forcibly contrite star finally remembered to apologize to the Jewish people for suspecting that they'd shrewdly infiltrated the Malibu police department in order to fuck his life, the NY Times coaxes longtime Gibson agent Ed Limato into breaking his silence on the matter. And after an obligatory statement about the inexcusability etc etc of his client's tequila-liberated remarks, he makes sure to fire a warning shot across the bow of the hypocritical "people in [his] business" who cast a stone at Gibson with one hand while trying to poach him with the other:

We'd like to pause to thank the front page of the LAT's website for providing us a glimmer of perspective in this Mel Gibson debacle, which threatens to destroy the good name of Alcohol by depicting it as nothing more than the fermented nectar squeezed from the heaving, infernal bosoms of a thousand hissing succubi, and which drives powerful men to destroy their careers while under its evil influence. Sure, it may be expedient for Gibson to blame the devil juice for his current situation, but his LDL cholesterol has never been lower.

Taking to heart the Hollywood maxim that "All that is required for the triumph of drunken, anti-Semitic movie star evil is that good superagents do nothing," Endeavor icon Ari Emanuel is using his platform over at the Huffington Post to rally the entertainment industry to take a principled stand against Mel Gibson:

ICM acquisition of BWCS is called a "perfect" fit, especially once they get rid of all those superfluous agents that might that fit a little too tight for comfort. [Variety, THR]
CBS will cough up the $550,000 indecency fine for showing Janet Jackson's nipple at the Super Bowl, but only because they have to pay the penalty to fight the ruling in court. [THR]
The WGA and America's Next Top Model writers continue to strike outside the show's offices, while The CW continues to dodge their unionization request by telling the strikers to kill a few months talking to the National Labor Relations Board. [Variety]
· Ed Helms will reunite with Daily Show buddy Steve Carell in a recurring role on The Office. [THR]
ABC's American Idol knockoff The One pulls such amazingly low ratings that's it's canceled a mere week after its anemic debut. We'd like to think this means that viewers are tired of AI clones, but we know that seven more series like this will probably rise to take its place. [Variety]

Today's chatter around the agency blood-coolers is that yesterday's announced ICM purchase of Broder Webb Chervin Silbermann has already resulted in the first wave of redundant heads rolling down Wilshire Boulevard. We've heard that a large chunk of the ICM TV department has already been hacked out to make room for the BWCS crew, with a (so far unconfirmed) layoff roll call so far of Scott Arnovitz, Nancy Etz, Tanya Lopez, Patty Detroit, Steve Simons, Babette Perry, Stacey Lubliner, Jill Gillett, and Dan Norton, if you must have the names being circulated around. And as long as we're spreading unconfirmed rumors, we're told executions are being conducted by e-mail, a classy, warm touch. Aren't mergers fun? Updates, confirmations, and other tales of downsizing woe as they become available...