CYBERWESTERN: The Fiberoptic Frontier

¾ A multimedia play, written and directed by Blake More

video by Cybirk

cybersound by cybersam



Justin¾Justin Candescent, country gal, wants to try but afraid of how it will affect her

land & lifestyle,

Blake¾Blaze More, techno hungry, eager for the 21st century frontier

Pedro¾Cable boss

Linda/Mateo¾cable layers

Dan¾hippie hitchhiking his way down the cable

Cybirk¾video/on stage video taping the performance, the media eye

CyberSam¾mixing live samples during show



Justin: phreaky country cow girl gear; packing a broom/horse

Blake: techno cow girl gear, packing a broom/horse

Sam: silver cape, hat, phreaky gear, hard hat

Peter: Construction gear, reflective vest, stop sign, long cable, bullhorn

Linda/Mateo: worker gear, stop sign, long cable, bullhorn

Dan: colorful rag jacket, hippie hat, backpack, guitar

Cybirk: hardhat with camera in it, floppy disk cape



Samís choice, Live sample mix: drum/bass, country western music, cracker mixes, country sounds, city sounds, Patís Simply Living,


CyBirk Pre-Recorded VIDEO:

A montage of images including the cable going in, the roads being torn up, cows getting branded, coastal shots, the point arena lighthouse, random technology, bucolic life, the bus station---the 10 acre piece of land where we all park and live, etc),





VIDEO BEGINS: [plays throughout the show]

Peter, Mateo & Linda: [burst into the end of Mikel-Emís slideshow talk, moving through crowd with bullhorn/cable, linda carrying a stop sign, heckling the crowd with lines such as]:

¾ Would Lewis and Clark set off if they knew they were cleariní a trail for Gates?

¾ Itís the Cyber Rush

¾ it Fiber Optic

¾ Look out, Cable cominí through

¾ ainít you ever seen a conduit before

¾ just like a nervous system

¾ just like intestines

¾ look out, cable layers cominí

¾ eat more fiber, lay better cable

¾ do we really need to talk to Asia this quick

[as they reach the stage, linda climbs up, holds out her stop sign to the audience]

Dan: [dressed as a hitchhiker and carrying a guitar, crosses from stage left, walks across the stage, holding up a cardboard sign that says CyberWestern, sees the workers, the mess, shakes his head, bob dylan like, crosses over to stool on stage right, sits in front of mic and starts plucking, backs up home on the range duet...]

Cybirk: [enters at his leisure, walks around like the techno droid, filming throughout entire performance.]

Justin & Blake: [justin goes to her laundry basket stage left, blake at the computer center right, as danís plucking, justin begins the first verse of HOME ON THE WEB (julie andrews meets hee haw...blake enters at second verse, takes the third verse solo, then they finish the rest together...]

Oh! give us a home where the Internet roams,

Where buses and trailers park free

Where the Squid List is toured for encouraging word,

And the sky isnít smoggy all day

Home, home on the ridge

Where the phreaks and the country folk play

Where seldom is heard a traffic cuss word

And our time just putters away

Oh! give us the land of Mend O Cino,

Where pirates avoid copter flow;

Along river banks, where seldom if ever,

Any impotent herbage doth grow.

How often at night, when the monitorís bright,

With the light of those fiberoptic stars

Have I sat there amazed, and asked as I gazed,

If its pixels exceed that of ours.

A home! A home with the net!

Where bands and the avant guard play,

Where word gets around that a partyís goiní down

And the little manís haviní his day.


Sam: [slight cracker element, jarring, getting justin and blakeís attention then

SAMPLES Electric Voice]: ready your parallel Ports, is now open for your virtual thinkiní, drinkin, dail-up inconvenience.

Blake: Yer packin' yer own two way PC Direct Satellite Return Channel Internet Access, ainít ya?

Justin: Nah, donít need to, life in the country is slow and we like it that way.

Blake: But, how daí ya survive out here in the woods without high speed access.

Justin: Never thought about it.

Blake: Well prepare yourself, little missy, cus AT &Tís high speed fiber optic cable is cominí through and from what I hear, you ainít getting any.

Justin: Ya mean I had to sit in my truck and what every day for three months for those construction workers for nothiní?

Blake: Yep. All you can do for a little speed is saddle over to Rosa and hit one of them KINK-O terminals.

Peter: [hits the stage with the cable, playing up its phallic nature]

Justin: Sounds dirty, ya sure itís legal?

Blake: [nudges her, winks] A yahoo search ainít only about lookiní for love.

Peter: Go west young programmer, its the cyber rush.

Sam: [cyberwestern cracker sample grows louder¾ techno style, as girls jump on their silver brooms, with Justin a bit more unsure of her cyber footing...sound begins to phreak...but not talking off until end of short dialog]

Blake: Ya ready?

Justin: [fumbling around her broom/horse] I guess so...

Blake: Ya know how to ride?

Justin Iím not sure; is it Mac or PC.

Blake: PC honey, weíre always PC.

Sam: [full cyberwestern cracker sample, starting with electronica/drum & other performers dance, cavort, groove on bullhorn, guitar, etc...otherwise do their thing]

Linda/Blake: dancing

Peter: [cavorting with his cable, chasing Justin with it]

Blake: [gives Sam the signal to lower the music, change the mood]

Peter: [as music dies down, the mood changes...steps up as role of cable boss, motivation is somewhat cynical, yet he knows he is the reason for the change that is coming, maybe slightly guilty, reading an old PC mag] The Internet, [looks up at the audience] isnít that the World Wide Web? [resumes reading]...has billions of pages of information, goods and services to offer the visitor. [stops reading, looks up again] yeah but how do you get your shit noticed and remembered in all that? Thatís why Iím just followiní the fiber.

Sam: [short burst of sample, dueling country/electronica]

Blake & Justin: [as Peterís talking, toward the end of the sample, Blake goes over to her computer and begins to fiddle, Justin gatherís her laundry, puts it into a basket, slings basket over her shoulder, and goes over to Blake for a computer demo]

Blake: Dial up cowgirl; itís time to go to Uncle URLs.

Justin: But? donít I...need a password for that.

Blake: Donít worry, Iíll be yer pop server [tosses her a mouse].

Justin: [screams and freaks out over the mouse] eeeeek!!! whatís that?

Blake: Ainít you ever seen a mouse before? [goes up and puts her arm around justin, comforting, begins to guide her off stage] What kind of country gal are you anyway?

Justin: [as they walk off the stage] Ya mean html doesnít stand for "hey this motherís loaded"?

Blake: yeah, and a download isnít somethiní smelly hanginí out the back of the truck in front of ya.

Peter: [points after them, again, just doing his job, contemplating his role as cable facilitator, in a dilemma as to whether heís even doing the right thing, but he likes the money] What can I do? Itís how the west was won; how else coulda we got California off of Mexico? Gold from them hills? Now its Japan for the cityfolk...[sighs] yeah, its happení alright. A fiber frontier. I guess ya never know how itís gonna turn out [picks up his cable, raises it to his crotch, looks at the audience] so come on, strap on yer joy stick and come on over to my digital reality rodeo. [going after Justin.] Iíll show ya what my hard drive is capable of.

Sam: [SAMPLE Electronic Voice: The Station is where cyber technology meets western hospitality [followed by the sound of gunfire and then...

Dan: [returns, sits back down in position in front of mic and starts plucking, backs up Out Where The West Begins]

Sam: [Pre-recorded CD of Out Where The West Begins plays, while Justin & Blake come back and sweep during the song, Dan plucks guitar, Linda & Mateo & Peter pick up the props and carry them off]:

Out where the potís a little stronger,

Out where the fiberoptic cable reaches longer,

Thatís where the West begins;

Out where the fogís a little brighter,

Where the windy drive turns them whiter,

Where the drums could be a wee bit tighter,

Thatís where the West begins.

Out where the monitors are a trifle bluer,

Out where friendshipís a little truer,

Thatís where the West begins;

Out where the sea breeze is blowing,

Where thereís silt in every streamlet flowing,

Where thereís trees a falliní without slowing,

Thatís where the West begins;

Out where the world is off the making.

Where fewer know the people aching,

Thatís where the West begins;

Where the drawís becominí stronger

Where the people hold out longer

Where thereís more of giving and less of buying,

And a man makes friends without half trying

Thatís where the West begins.

Oh yeah, thatís where the west begins

One more time

Thatís where the west begins

And ends and ends and


Sam: [SAMPLE the sound of a modem making a dial up connection]

***THE END ***


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