VIRTUAL LIVE: TRANSCRIPT January 19, 2002 Location One NOTE: This is the transcript of a live online event coordinated with performances that took place in the Location One gallery and were streamed to the web as live videos. Due both to the rapid pace of online interaction and to network lag, multiple lines of thought are inextricably woven together in many places. We have left the transcript largely unedited in order to preserve this hallmark of online conversation. WELCOME to VIRTUAL LIVE at LOCATION ONE! Cicero: Will someone tell us what is happening occasionally? Quintus: nothin'. guest1: the lights are dimming. Quintus: nothing at all. TONIGHT via the streaming video window to your left, we will preview two brief segments of THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE, a full-evening theatrical work in progress. guest1: ahh. Petronius: Primitive scratchings on the Lascaux cave do a hideous sarabande... Cicero: Oooh I see somebody. guest1: it's a statue man. guest2: me too. guest3: nobody move, this is a bust. THESE TWO *live* performances will last about 7 minutes each. For each of them, we will offer simultaneous text versions of the audio here in the chat room. Quintus: Oh, I thought they were going to be nakid. guest4: monochrome gods. OUR FIRST VIDEO, which will begin shortly, is entitled: ==REPUBOCRACY== ::: Junk now this Earth this noisy globe this spinning where no eyes are ::: minute lump of congealed dust where I see from this vacuum I see ::: Athens city of democracy pure democracy by which I mean a society ::: consisting of a small number of citizens who administer the ::: government in person one man one vote women are not men slaves ::: are not men the poor are not men not yet dogs and demagogues that ::: is to say a very extensive country cannot be governed on democratical ::: principles on any other plan than a confederation of small republics my ::: own city beloved Rome not long a Republic dead within 500 years at ::: its heart the Senate a hundred men bound by family by kinship essential ::: to such a government that it be derived from the great body of the ::: society not from an inconsiderable proportion or favored class the elect ::: of 35 clans aristocracy slides into oligarchy Rome the corrupt into ::: tyranny do you hear the footsteps born in Rome its new master one-two ::: the paid professional army three-four fuck the Senate fuck the people ::: the Republic for so long as we are paid so long may you rule Caesar ::: rotten Republic dying sprawl Holy Roman British Empire the sun never ::: sets on the year 1792 the American people will not have a strong central ::: government on the British model we the people call for the party of the ::: common man call for Democanical Republicrats delude us they delude ::: they cannot sing for democracy and republic both for local and federal ::: both their toy cracks there is left only this broken this single this ::: Democratic party I see it turn and roll to the Pacific with slavery in tow ::: but we the people cry other voices Whigs abolitionists renegade ::: Democrats we cry for slaverys end Jeffersonian equality cry ::: remember slaveholding Jefferson who that is to say we the ::: administrators of government are ever actuated by private interest ::: and ambition to the prejudice of the public good the only effectual ::: method to secure the rights of the people is to create a mixed ::: government an opposition of interests between two distinct bodies ::: and we claim the Republican party born to speak for manumission ::: free speech womens suffrage black suffrage a republican or free ::: government can only exist where property is pretty equally divided ::: when this ceases to be the case the nature of the government is ::: changed a despotism will rise on its ruin rise in unCivil War we ::: the people fought that war which is to say the Republicans needed ::: money for guns needed to steal the South from us Dixiecrats to this ::: end presto changeo exit the Republicans enter the National Unionists ::: expedient but not national unassuming but unloved show em the ::: door jack bring back the Grand Old Party neither grand nor old all ::: things come into being by the conflict of opposites and split the ::: Republicans wave the bloody shirt split the Liberals here Radicals ::: there we who won the war stomped the South that is to say who ::: saw the scandals in Grants administration who lost the peace but ::: despite Reconstruction still a republic by which I mean a government ::: in which the scheme of representation derives all its powers directly ::: or indirectly from the people and is administered by persons holding ::: their offices for a limited period we black Americans voted Republican ::: joined Congress Republican seventy years of bloc Republican voting ::: seventy years the South lost to us white racists white Democrats the ::: highest responsibility is to be attained in a simple structure of ::: government for the great body of the people never steadily attend to ::: the operations of government and for want of due information are ::: liable to be imposed on the new century turned to this patch of earth ::: came new blood we the immigrants are Democrats the poor ::: Democrats the urban the workers the socially liberal I mean to say ::: two great points of difference between a democracy and a republic ::: are first the delegation of government in the latter to a small number ::: of citizens elected by the rest secondly the greater number of citizens ::: and greater sphere of the country over which a republic may be ::: extended sea to shining sea we the manufacturers are Republican ::: midwestern farmers Republican businessmen reformer Roosevelt ::: reins in big business the proper function of government is to do ::: for the people those things that have to be done but cannot be done ::: or cannot be done as well by individuals it doesnt last socialism ::: doesnt last the Sherman Anti-Trust Act doesnt the business of ::: America is business as usual that is to say as society is produced ::: by our wants so is government by our wickedness Black Friday ::: stock in the Republican party crashes depression isolation war ::: reconstruction in reverse a hundred years of turnabout watch while ::: Republicans win the white South Democrats win the black South ::: but time stretches ideology that is to say we the people Republicrats ::: all believe in equal rights equal justice equal opportunity regardless ::: of race creed age sex or national origin and we the people that is ::: to say Democans all believe in tax cuts college education retirement ::: security victims rights strong families fighting crime support ::: innovation battling terrorism investing in America. ==END== Pretorian_Guard applauds. guest5 cheers. Germania holds her head. Cicero appals. Petronius: What WAS that gibberish? Quintus coughs. PERFORMED LIVE by DAVID MOO as Cicero, Roman senator and stalwart defender of the Roman Republic. TEXT and VIDEO environment by ANTOINETTE LAFARGE COSTUMES by NICOLE EVANGELISTA DIRECTED by ROBERT ALLEN guest4 sits in stunned silence. Poppaea claps claps. guest3: clap clap. Poppaea appals. guest2 files her nails. Germania claps. guest4 scratches her head. Cicero wrinkles his brow and checks his hair. Poppaea leans over to Petronius. Quintus is left in the dark. ...and now for something completely different guest1: we could have commented during the show. guest4 longs for the light. Poppaea: Did they let that Cicero guy out of the box agaim? guest2: it was hard to get a word in. guest5: nice costuming. OUR NEXT EVENT is entitled: guest1: yeah Quintus: drum roll please.... Petronius: Proof positive of resurrection of the dead... Cicero flexes his fingers. ==ROME IN CRISIS== Poppaea: Oh, no, please, I'm not ready!!! guest1: pomo can not last with livestreaming. Germania fakes a drumroll. ...pause for announcements in the gallery... Petronius: Love is stranger than death. Quintus tenses up. Location One shuffles feet and rumples program...coughing. Poppaea frantically adjusts her gown. Quintus practices meditative breathing. guest4 goes to the bathroom. Petronius goes out to get a coffee. Cicero lights a match. PLEASE STAND BY Poppaea: Pin up the hem, you stupid slave! Quintus tries not to scratch the raging itch in his groin. guest4 doesn't inhale. Germania sits down. guest2 stands by. Petronius: PLEASE BY STAND. guest1: experimentation depends on the silence of the audience. Cicero lights up. guest1: the benefit of the doubt. Pretorian_Guard: Please rubberneck. Quintus rolls his eyes. Cicero: silence is golden. guest2 coughs. Cicero: Now? Quintus: I heard that. guest4 taps her fingers. Petronius: Apathy is zircon. ...uh oh. NO WAIT... PLEASE WAIT Germania : you sure you want to expose THOSE legs? Quintus cannot wait another second. guest1: without the benefit of the doubt. guest2 glances sideways at Poppy's legs. Petronius: I can fetch you another pair, lovely Poppaea... guest4: give 'em a shave, a shave, a slave. Cicero: Is this thing on? Quintus feels as though something TERRIBLE is going to happen. guest4: Quintus, stop feeling up your neighbor. OUR FEATURED GUESTS for this segment are the Plaintext Players, an online performance group, appearing as characters from the time of the emperor Nero. guest1: the audience begins to question what is going on as a group. Cicero goes into a trance. Petronius: Am I enjoying myself yet? Quintus: It is always quiet before the storm. guest1: en masse. Quintus: or so they say. THE PLAINTEXT PLAYERS will improvise a response to a sudden crisis in Rome. CHATROOM GUESTS are requested NOT to participate during this segment. Cicero: They want their money back, I can feel it. guest4: when shall we three meet again? Germania: pull out the whale. guest2 leans forward interestedly. CAST OF CHARACTERS: MARLENA CORCORAN as Poppaea, Nero's empress JOE FERRARI as Quintus, an actor RICHARD FOERSTL as Cicero, a senator LISE PATT as Germania, a slave RICHARD SMOLEY as Petronius, a writer Petronius: Can they see me picking my nose? Quintus sews his pockets CLOSED. Germania: who wrote these credits? Cicero studies his speeches. Quintus: brilliantly written indeed ...rips those speeches out of Cicero's hands and tears them into tiny pieces. ===CURTAIN UP=== ACT ONE: THE FIRE The scene shifts to Rome... a room in the palace... the Empress Poppaea is holding a dinner party... Suddenly, a Pretorian guard bursts into the room gasping for breath... Quintus checks out the available slave boys. Cicero looks up shocked. Pretorian_Guard: The Temple... that big Temple.. you know the one I mean? Quintus is HUNGRY. Petronius: Well, I hope this is important. Or at least impotent. Cicero is pondering. Pretorian_Guard: The one on the Capitoline Hill?? Quintus: uh huh. Pretorian_Guard: IT'S ON FIRE! Cicero: Again? Poppaea: As I was saying before I ordered this asshole flogged for interrupting me... Quintus: again?! Petronius . o O (Let's play "Guess That Temple!") Pretorian_Guard: Uh, Your Empressness... burning... Petronius . o O (Sandra Bullock is jabbering on the TV in the background.) Poppaea : What do you mean, AGAIN? Germania hopes no one notices her smoking shoes. Quintus: Talk about deja vu all over again. Pretorian_Guard: You have to do something, it's really torching up. Cicero: Doesn't it have a history of that? Petronius : I've always wanted to tie you up with a belt, my angel.. Quintus: Twice before. Cicero: I see the smoke! It's green! Poppaea: WHICH temple? ...third time this century it's been on fire. Poppaea: Not the . . . the . . . TWIN TEMPLES? Cicero: Do we have insurance? Petronius . o O (Strange Life of Petronius Arbiter.) Pretorian_Guard: Well, they're Triple Temples... Jupiter, Juno, Minerva... Petronius . o O (They forgot to say I was governor of Bithynia.) Quintus: You think they would learn, and maybe build the damn thing out of marble...but Noooo... Pretorian_Guard: All three deities are burning up! Petronius: Evidently the sacrifices have been getting out of hand. Cicero: I say we blame someone and hunt them down and kill them. Quintus feels rather relived. Poppaea: You may have forgotten, but I am the only deity around here. Pretorian_Guard: I can't get anyone to DO anything to stop the fire, what do you want me to do? Petronius: I TOLD that falt slob Vitellius not to filch the sacrificial tidbitz. Quintus: Too many Gods can be a bad thing. Cicero stares at Poppaea. Quintus: So much responsibility. Poppaea: Ask Nero. Quintus: So much groveling. Cicero: Shall we form a forum to find the fiend? guest3: Nero is my cat's name. Petronius: Burn, baby, burn. Cicero: Or just vote on who it must be? Germania eats the feast while the Romans debate. guest3: we don't need no water. Petronius: It's 1977 A.U.C., so let's have a disco inferno. Pretorian_Guard : Did Nero, uh, start this... I mean, where is Nero? Poppaea: I forgot, Nero is off somewhere barfing up broccoli, like his father before him. Quintus: Just look to see who benefits from the catastrophe...and the culprit will be clear. Cicero: I say it was the Turks. guest3: actually Nero barfs up dental floss. Petronius . o O (What's Latin for broccoli?) guest1: we always get the blame. Pretorian_Guard scratches his head. Suddenly Poppaea retches and screams... Cicero: They are fundamentalists. Poppaea: My father! Petronius . o O (I know "Frutex" is bush...) ...Poppaea benefits because she gets a new temple named after her. Cicero: It has to be them. Petronius . o O (What is Latin, then, for "stolen election?") Poppaea: My father built that temple! Quintus: It's always the same culprit. ...there are no Turks. Petronius: Is ENRON a first- or a third-declension noun? Pretorian_Guard: It might be Judeans, we're unpopular in Judea these days. Poppaea: When he was construction supervisor in the provinces, and had to commute every day to the site of the new temple! Cicero: Well, it didn't start by itself. Poppaea: You can't let it burn! Petronius: Claudius threw the Jews out of Rome a few years back. Quintus: Regardless of WHO did it...the ruling elite will use every advantage to their benefit. Pretorian_Guard: If you don't do somthing it will burn down... I can hear the flames from here. Petronius: Evidently some fellow named Chrestus was causing a disturbance. Poppaea grabs Cicero. guest1: I say let it burn. Poppaea: Remember the good old days? Cicero jumps. Petronius: I would arrest this Chrestus fellow again. I mean, it worked once... Poppaea: When Romans actually... BELIEVED in something? Germania checks out the buff firefighters running to the burning temple. Cicero: Madame unhand me! I'm a Christian. Petronius : That was before our time, my pipkin. Poppaea: And... and the gods were gods and... my father was governor of Brooklyn! Petronius . o O (PIPKIN?) Quintus doesn't really care who did it. Petronius . o O (What a bloody fool I have made of myself, calling her that?) ACT TWO: CLEANING UP Pretorian_Guard: Wait... news flash... it's too late, the temple is gone! guest3: the flames! the flames! Petronius . o O (Why do I always blow it with women?) Pretorian_Guard: Just a bit of burning rubble... Quintus: And it is too much trouble to put out. ...somebody pick up Poppaea. guest3: because you think too much like a man. ...rebuild in marble, that'll last forever. Petronius . o O (Especially embarrassing with empresses.) Cicero: Well, we can't just do nothing. Poppaea weeps. Petronius: : No doubt, no doubt... Quintus: I mean, gee... if it has burned down twice before this century... maybe it belongs burned down. Cicero comforts Poppaea. Pretorian_Guard: You blew your chance to be saviors of the great Temple. guest3: certainly we can't do everything. Poppaea: How now can I be Empress of Brooklyn? Petronius : Would you like to go to a crucifixion with me next Saturday night? Germania : don't worry they just build it over again, the temple, the debate, the terrorists. ...of course you can do nothing... what's easier? Petronius: I would not lift a finger to rescue that monument to superstition. Cicero: Our honor is at stake. Pretorian_Guard : well, who should I arrest for this crime? Poppaea stares at Germania. Cicero: If we stand for nothing, then nothing stands for us. Poppaea: You did it, you slut! Pretorian_Guard: The slave? Petronius: I think we have all proven that we belong in the Bloomberg administration. Germania grins. Cicero: What about the German! Pretorian_Guard: The anti-religious Senator here? Poppaea: She tried everything she could to screw up my wedding day! Pretorian_Guard: the decadent writer? Quintus: Somebody has to be blamed. guest3: I would like to go to a crucifixion, so long as it isn't one of those ones like that Peter fellow-- I just don't get post-modernism. Petronius: I suggest Strom Thurmond. ...Let's blame history. Cicero: Let's reinvent it. guest3: let's blame the future! Petronius: I really think everything is the fault of that undead old antiquity. Quintus: The quicker you arrest someone...the sooner we can forget all about it. Cicero: Nothing burned at all. Poppaea: Oh, no! It wasn't bad enough that I had a wedding reception organized by the author of Satyricon. Oh, no. Pretorian_Guard waits to arrest someone... even just a stroke of lightning. Pretorian_Guard : what do you mean, nothing burned? guest3: I brought my goat leggings. Petronius: For God's sake, let's not let Congress see the transcripts of this meeting. Germania dusts off the electric chair. Cicero turns to watch another buff firefighter running by. Poppaea screams and wails. Petronius: Or the Senate, or whatever the hell it is we call it. guest1: booooo! Quintus: now, now, Poppaea, that is not Empress-like behavior. Cicero: Let's just rewrite the whole thing. There never was a temple. Petronius: On the other hand, I think it may be Michael Caine's fault ===CURTAIN DOWN=== Poppaea moans on the ground. Poppaea: Varus, Varus. Location One claps and stomps feet. CURTAIN DOWN CUZ YOU DIDN'T FIX THE PROBLEM Poppaea: Where are my legions? Location One (clapping). Cicero: Thank you. guest3: clap clap. ...someone please applaud. Quintus: ouch. guest2 claps. Quintus: did someone burp? guest1: clap trap. ...ok, everyone take a bow. Petronius: aequomst vobis plaudere! guest1: so tell me... Pretorian_Guard: You guys are worthless. Quintus: That Heather has such a nice speaking voice. ===THE DISCUSSION=== WE NOW THROW THE FLOOR OPEN for a discussion of online performance. Everyone is encouraged to jump in! OUR ONLINE PERFORMERS will be happy to answer any questions or respond to your comments. Location One: Well, the audience here is all drunk... or quiet. guest5 jumps. Location One: we have lots of questions. Cicero: really guest3: c'mon it'll be fun! Location One nods. Location One: absolutely. Petronius : Well, I could be watching Miss Congeniality now instead of doing this nonsense. Pretorian_Guard: We have no answers. Location One: How about the question of audience? Pretorian_Guard: We can't even put out a simple fire. Poppaea raises her hand. Cicero: Only questions. Quintus screams: KILL THE RICH. Petronius: I didn't know there WAS an audience. guest3: what audience? there are only performers here. Location One: Do you usually perform for online people or do you have a live -- captured actually -- audience? Pretorian_Guard: Who wants to respond to the Question of Audience? guest1: what's the difference between online players and this audience? guest5: what was the accent of the Cicero monologue and how did it relate to the piece? Poppaea : So uh, what did Germania do with the legions? Location One: sitting in a gallery .. watching you type. Cicero: You asking me? guest4: it would be more fun with more audience participation. Petronius: Massacred them most foully, my adoration. Germania waits for a question. guest5 is asking anyone with answers. Cicero: He sounded Irish to me. guest1: why ask the chat audience to remain silent? guest4: how about brits, they're always good at adlibs? guest5: irish, then irie! Poppaea : So uh, what did you do with the legions? Pretorian_Guard: Audience is nominal here... everyone could possibly be a player. guest3: I have lots of answers, mostly wrong. Quintus: Jamaican I believe. guest5 nods to Quintus. Location One: Germania, what are you wearing? Cicero smirks. Germania : I sent them to Cuba like you asked me to. Petronius . o O (Too much clothing.) Location One: Why was the performer speaking with a Jamaican accent? Quintus: there are many more possibilities with wrong answers. Pretorian_Guard: We ask the audience to be silent so that if they do participate, they have to really want to. guest2: but we were told not to participate. Pretorian_Guard: Too many particpants can lead to endless screen spam guest1: oh tricky. Petronius: Yeah, rules are only for the canaille... guest2 laughs out loud. guest1: as if that could happen easily when the convention is the performance of silence. Location One: How do you know the difference between performance and endless screen spam? guest2: we could have been cast. Pretorian_Guard: Everyone participates here. guest5 giggles at that. Petronius : You're a New Yorker. Since when do you do what any sign tells you to do? guest3: they are one and the same. Cicero: performance is art. guest4: who's "one"? Pretorian_Guard: Sometimes it's tough to tell the difference. guest3: all one. guest4: please ask some one to explain. Germania : I am wearing a gown made out of the finest monkey fur. Location One: Figured as much. guest4: take it off, take it off... Cicero: I'm not wearing anything. guest1: following directions. guest3: oh I love monkeys! guest1: take cues. Quintus: There is no differnece... except INTENT. Petronius : Ah, well. That explains it. guest1: part of our improv as chat audience. guest4: turn on the light so we can see. Pretorian_Guard: When we're on a roll, there's particular energy, a group dyamic. Spam is just random stuff, unconnected. Cicero: we intend to be artless. guest3: i am intentionally unintentional. guest4: in the beginning... Petronius : I'm an ancient Roman, so it goes without saying I'm not either. Poppaea: it segues into total textual superficiality--okay, deep, but all on one level. Performers, curtains. Subjects, objects... Germania wonders when the performance is going to begin. Cicero: Why do we still imitate theater? guest4: so let's roll. Location One: Have you met in "real life"? Do you rehearse together or is this a community that's networked only by computers and technology? guest3: it has already begun. guest4: we do not exist outside of the computer. guest2: this is the performance. guest1: I see no difference between so-called 'performers' and chat audience. Location One: Ah. Convenient. Pretorian_Guard: These Romans are only partly Roman, partly modern... so our Roman actor can be partly Jamaican, no? Petronius: I know barely anyone in real life. guest4: there is nothing but the network. Location One: How do you collect royalties? guest4: you do not exist. Petronius: I mean, anywhere... Cicero: we have not all met in real life. Quintus: A few of us have met in RL...with mixed results : ) Pretorian_Guard: Some of us know each other in real life, but most of us won't admit it. guest4: there are no royals anymore. Cicero: we don't. guest3: this is not a community, but it mimics some of the behaviors of one. Petronius: I really have no friends apart from this venue. guest4: you, sirah, are not a friend. guest2: aren't we all cyber citizens? Poppaea: If I had a life, would I be typing at a computer at 2:49 a.m. EuroTime? Pretorian_Guard: We collect emperors instead of royalties. Germania: I have slept with every single one of the players in real life. guest4: no, slaves! Cicero: we need to keep a low profile. Pretorian_Guard: Plus, our Cicero is part Jamaican, so it all fits, really. guest4: slaves to the machine! Petronius : Precisely. Location One That monkey frock really works then. Pretorian_Guard: We don't need a life, we have the network. Petronius : And you are really, really FANTASTIC, baby... Germania: but I have not met them. Pretorian_Guard: We PREFER the network. guest2: somebody called me a monkey? Cicero: life is a network. guest5: for life or performance? guest1: guest2, what did you think of the show? guest2: it was interesting. guest3: life = performance. guest2: but a little boring. Poppaea: I always wanted to be Empress of Brooklyn--and the chances of getting elected EB in real life were slim. Location One: Where is the "stage"? For example, if it weren't being projected in a gallery in downtown New York? guest1: in what way? guest2: just reading text. guest1: yeah. Location One: Why do you do this in text? guest1: and being directed to be silent. guest2: and could have been spiced up. guest4: because it takes too long to make images. guest5 giggles. guest3: why not? guest2: with audience participation. guest6: Is the show going on or over? Cicero: we want to see if people can still read. guest3: text is beautiful. Quintus: It is hard to type in pictures. guest1: and plaintext players were not particularly dynamic. Pretorian_Guard: The stage is everywhere... here, where you are, whoever you are... the network has extended the stage all over. Quintus: Keyboards weren't designed that way. Poppaea: Because I believe with Aristotle that spectacle is the bottom of the barrel of drama. Cicero: we already learned how to type so it seemed right. guest2: there could have been more movement. Petronius: I sold my Web cam to buy milk for my starving babies... Pretorian_Guard: We're sick of pictures. guest1: and better use of screen. Cicero dances. guest4: it's more quiet. guest2: movement can be done with text. Germania thinks it was rude for fate to forget the canned laughter. guest2 twirls around to display her frock. Location One Why is this not spectacle? guest1: absolutely. guest4 shakes her booty. Pretorian_Guard: Good point, guest2... usually we perform where action is easier. Here in this room, it's all talk. guest2 shakes her body. guest5: why show pictures when the imagination can create more richly? Cicero: it's living literature. guest1 blinks and thinks. Location One: What would happen if you stopped typing? guest2 waves her arms in the air. guest3: this is a spectacle. guest5: why not just suggest? guest1: it's bed time. Quintus: Everything Poppaea does is spectacle. Pretorian_Guard: It helps to have an online space that's programmed for our needs. ...the universe would come to an end. guest4: why did Location One fall for this? guest1: thank you for this. Cicero: you could go home. Poppaea: Okay, so I scrape the bottom of the barrel with my keyboard. Location One: We're very naive here. Petronius: I TYPE THEREFORE I EXIST. guest6: What's so funny-- no image, little sound. guest5: is not so little! guest4: live a little learn a little. Germania: there's another gig down the street, much better than this. Petronius: TYPOGRAPHO ERGO SUM. Location One: We're easily impressed by moving things and shiny objects. guest2: I type therefore I perform. ...Let's take a break and go back to moving pictures & sound for our last piece. Cicero: only if someone records us. guest1: no image, little imagination, no textual play. Location One: Also, Robert Allen is big and strong... and scary... guest4: oh, let's go! guest1: no textual play. Quintus: Keep your sex life to yourself. Cicero: sure we will. guest3: all online space is programmed for someone else's needs -- we are borrowing it. ==END DISCUSSION== WE WILL WRAP up this evening with the second live, streaming video performance, entitled: ==INAUGURAL ADDRESS== guest4: I think the pause is better than the play. guest2: can we talk in this one? Quintus waves to his grandmother. guest4: no, slave. ...oh no, not more meat... PERFORMED LIVE by KEVIN KEAVENEY as Petronius Arbiter, Roman author of the Satyricon. guest1: let them stop us. guest6: Whooo Hoooooo. Germania high fives guest1. ...please, don't talk, so that we can paste in the text for those who aren't getting all the sound. guest4: yeah, put out our internet connection. guest1: do you want an orange? Petronius: Good luck, alter ego, old chap... guest2: right on. Quintus: hey, I can't see anything. guest2: me neither. guest4 scratches where it itches. guest2: we'll have to use our imaginations. Quintus: I want a chocolate. Petronius . o O (Or am I supposed to say break a leg or something?) guest1: this is our punishment. or reward. ...only Poppaea doesn't care that she can't see anything... guest4: endless limbo. guest2: someone is making little noises. Quintus: You are supposed to sit quietly in rapt awe. guest4: Poppaea is blind anyway. guest2: i can hear the 2 year old. Germania holds up a black curtain. CHATROOM guests are requested NOT to participate during this segment. guest4: I am awefully wrapped. Quintus lights a big fattie. guest2: not again. PLEASE STAND BY... guest2: I think I might this time. Quintus: don't tell the kids. guest4: duck it. guest1: again, again with the silent audience routine. guest2: not this time. guest1: someone narrate for me. guest4: ooooh, blue. guest1: and now... Quintus: There is a lot of PLEASE STAND BY in moo theatre. guest4: gone black. guest2: put down that black curtain. Petronius: Sire, the audience is revolting... guest4: blue light. guest1: and now... Cicero: It's blue. guest4: so are you, Petronius. Poppaea is beginning to have a really good time. ...see how exciting this is? Quintus: They are revolting aren't they? guest2: blue. guest1: and now... guest2: ah! guest6: Got it, a person, more people. guest4: oh the bust! guest2: another white head... ::: President Clinton, distinguished companies and foolish partisans, ::: this boastful fanfare is true to history, yet commands the new ::: century. Wild as a booming oak, we firm up old ambitions and guest1: the Jamaican-Irish man again. ::: clean up new winnings. ::: As I begin, I thank President Clinton for his perverseness to our guest4: he ain't got no MOTION. ::: nation. And I thank Vice President Gore for a combat conceived guest2: he has bad dandruff. guest4: shake that booty! ::: in spite and ended with a glare. I both honor myself and am ::: humiliated to stand in hell, where Americas mangy leaders have guest4: humiliation! yes! ::: hated me, and many will follow. guest1: this two tone suit could take off. guest2: why does he sound english? Quintus: a rather staccatto performance. ::: We are a plague, all of us, in a new style. It is the style of a wily guest4: mangy dog. guest1: Jamaiccan. ::: fiend, the style of a flavorless society that became a solvent power, guest1: Jamaican. guest4: Jameican mann. ::: the style of a tower that means to stand but not to fall, to defend ::: but not to struggle. It is the American stylethe style of a cracked ::: and feeble people, united in ageless generations by grandiose and guest1: the Roman Jamaican empire circa... guest4: oh shit, the towers are falling again. ::: endearing ideas. ::: Most grandiose of these is the American plum that belongs to Quintus: shhhh. ::: everyone, for every self is a god, and no temporary poison can guest2: not again. ::: spoil a feast. We call each other to collect these plums with wives guest1: again with the shhhing. ::: and with wars. ::: Through much of our lost gentility, America prayed for boredom, ::: and democracy was a rock in rabid sea. Now it is a reed in the wind, guest2 checks her watch. ::: taking loot under limitations. Our immanent disunion is the talk of guest1 watches her checks. ::: loonies and gimps at every corner. I gnaw on this in solitude because ::: we fail to guide ourselves to new power, and gloat that we are the ::: same as our image. We are sure of principles that own us and lead guest4: naw! ::: us by the head. But though our patience has sometimes stumbled, guest4: naw! guest2 gnaws on solitude. ::: we must not follow an old horse ::: America has never been incited by food nor killed by toil. We are ::: fond of fields that lie beyond our borders, we run after fees and guest1: oh to have something to gnaw on. guest4: clop clop clop. ::: are trained to be bitter. Every factory must build new dirigibles. guest4: road apples. ::: Every indigent must renounce free wheels. Every kitten must be Petronius: timeo Danaos et dona ferentes guest2 passes guest1 something to gnaw on. guest1: dirigibles. ::: bolder and help put our rabid America more in the game. Gentility guest4: floating factories. ::: is not tic-tac-toe or a simple amusement but a wager with chaos. guest1: thanks, dirigibles? ::: Together we will exclaim Americas cool, while our language guest4: gentle factories, let us arise. ::: claims the tongue-tied. guest1: how hard is it to work dirigibles into a text? guest4: gentle tongue, tie this one. guest2: yes thanks. ::: America, the festive, matches a retrenchment to arsenals with a guest4: I dirigle you to be silent! ::: monstrous servility. We will warm up to the profession of shame, ::: spelling out guidelines to level the intelligence of faulty aliens. We guest4: slaves! guest4: monsters! ::: will distribute axes to discover where the fear of agony lies. We guest4: aliens! ::: will bulge our fences, lest wagons infiltrate the column. And we guest4: agony! guest1: dirigibles! guest2 picks her dirigible. Petronius: The sixteen Races are called "the sixteen paths to destruction..." ::: will flaunt most instructive weapons so that a new gentry is appalled guest4: destroy1 ::: by new horrors. ::: America is an impassioned pest. The American engineer now delves ::: deep, instantly profiting from the promissory notes of gloomy old guest4: ... oh most gentle dirigibles ... Petronius: ...because there is always, in each Race, a danger that the soul may become too much attached to the Race. ::: nations. And however many the masses, we run afoul of giddy ::: recessions, not of gold in vaults. Money in our accounts does not guest4: and leave the poor engineeers out of this. ::: know the pain of profits, but only its pleasure. ::: America, the lethal, is a monstrosity of failed expectations. And ::: though America reviles psychology, it plunges deeper into torment. ::: We bind the cruelty of strife not with ribbons but with grommets. guest2: why are the engineers poor? ::: We must plunge the failures of our hostility into the gale of our times. ::: While the dealer shuffles, the deal is delayed. Americans are in guest1: America embraces psychology doesn't it? guest4: because they're responsible for everything wrong. Petronius: The monkey has degenerated from the man. guest2: but they make good money. guest4: I'm hostile too. ::: need of ale, not anger; of mittens, not platforms. I urge you to seek, ::: comment, prod, and come forth; I ask you to be eyes, not spectacles; ::: kittiwakes, not snakes. Americans are jealous and scrawny and guest2: I'm knitting mittens for the Americans. ::: degenerate, not because we police ourselves but because we hug ::: pleasure to our chests. ::: After the Delegation of Insolence was signed, Virginia marksman guest4: degenerate pleasures of the chest. Poppaea: Yeah, see, that's it: eyes, not spectacles. guest1: personally I am degenerating in this one. ::: John Page wrote to Thomas Jefferson: We know the state is not a ::: gift, nor are sheep scary. Did you not wing the angel that flies from guest4: slaves! guest4: angels! ::: Jerusalem and fracture its arm? guest2 finds pleasure in her chest. ::: Much time has flashed by since Jefferson bound folly to his guest4 rubs guest2's chest. ::: imagination. Be pleased with yourselves, for we dig our graves on guest1: I dispute the scariness of sheep. guest2: mmm. guest4: oh dirigible!. ::: every side. Let pale faces be a grief in our dotage, and our dotage ::: be swallowed in selfish anodynes. guest4: who's we, white man? ::: The hole expands. The folly flows on. And an angel still flies from guest1: our dirigibles descend into dotage. guest4: your hole, white man. ::: Jerusalem with a fractured arm. ===END=== guest4: fractured Jerusalem, white man.... Pretorian_Guard applauds. ...yay yay yay... guest1: I blame the R.S.C. guest4 also applauds: that was better. guest3: clap clap. guest2 claps. PERFORMED LIVE by KEVIN KEAVENEY as Petronius Arbiter, Roman author of the Satyricon. VIDEO environment by AMY KACZUR; video footage by Jon Winet/Democracy-The Last Campaign. TEXT by ANTOINETTE LAFARGE COSTUMES by NICOLE EVANGELISTA DIRECTED by ROBERT ALLEN Cicero coughs. Quintus applauds good ol' RL. guest4: wine? guest4: cheese? Germania wonders when the performance is going to begin. guest2: yes thanks. guest4: where's the fooodd? Petronius fears he has the clap. Poppaea: Well, it was only better because no one could believe the dude MEMORIZED that crap. Quintus: It's the company you keep. guest4: that's the only reason I cum. Poppaea: Of course, so did Dubya, I guess. The character of Cicero was originated online by Richard Foerstl. The character of Petronius was originated online by Richard Smoley. All the Roman characters present tonight are members of the PLAINTEXT PLAYERS. guest1 laughs out loud. guest4: cheese. guest2: wine? guest4 smiles. Poppaea has a question. guest5: whine? Cicero: in the beginning was the word. Petronius: Vappa is Latin for "bad wine." Quintus: I thought it was the other way around. ::: THANK YOU for joining us for this unique event. guest4: get thee to a numbery. Poppaea: Why didn't they bring the girl actresses? guest1: the characters of the chat audience originate online by their mothers. guest6: could you show the audience live? We're curious to see what they look like. ::: TONIGHT'S performances will be archived and available on the Location One web site. guest4: they did, you're one. Petronius: Are there pretty girls out there I can meet? guest1: hmm. guest7: where's the bathroom? THANKS TO LOCATION ONE for supporting this event, and especially to HEATHER WAGNER for all her gracious help making it happen. Cicero: are they eating in here? guest4: hey, stop eating all the pickles. Petronius: That's the only reason I bother to do this. Cicero: without us? ...are you archiving the video or the text? guest5 cheers for Heather! guest2 sips her wine. guest4: I want the garnish. guest1 sips guest2's wine. Cicero: Thanks Heather! Quintus: All hot assed boys can inquire at the front desk. ...we are all rollingly grateful to Heather Wagner... THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT Petronius: That, and the opportunity to see Heather Wagner... guest4 bumps guest2 and spills the wine. guest4: oops, sorry. Quintus: That Heathen is alright. guest2: damn! EVERYONE IS WELCOME TO STICK AROUND AND CHEW THE FAT THE POSTMOOTEM (READ ON AT YOUR OWN RISK) Cicero: Thank you Digital Director. guest1: hey buddy watch it. guest2 frowns at guest4. Guest6: Heather rocks. guest4: fat is for the gods, I want meat. Pretorian_Guard thanks his fellow Romans. guest4: Roman meat. guest2 gets another glass of wine. Cicero: type at us, please. guest5 is on a low fat diet so e can't swallow. guest1 withdraws flask from guest4's pocket. Poppaea: Oh, this is my favorite part. The POST MOOTEM. guest4 takes a sip of guest2's wine. Quintus: We can be sure that NO ONE is looking at what we type any longer. guest2 gives her wine to guest4. Quintus: They are off to the cheese. guest7: I'm still looking. Cicero: if we close our eyes they won't see us either. guest4 grabs flask and flails around. guest3: to the cheese! wine this way-----> guest1: i can misspell now. what a relief. releef. Petronius (taking off his buskins): Ouch, me achin' canes. guest6: we're having cheese fondue here. guest4 kicks Petronius. guest4: who is a slut? Cicero: we've been fondling cheese too long. guest2 gets another glass of wine. Petronius ouches. guest1: I wish I were drunk. guest4: oops I dropped my bread in the fondue again. Poppaea : At last, someone was clear on this point. Quintus: The is so NOT a post MOOtem. guest5 wishes someone would wave to the poor audience, out in the cold, not able to chitchat, and oh so hungry. Pretorian_Guard grabs a large glass of Falernian wine. Cicero eats virtual refreshments and gains weight. Petronius : No? What is it? Germania must be off, she has a jet to fly, uh, catch. guest2 slaps guest4. Cicero: I think its better with a silent audience. Petronius . o O (It's so boring, it must be the afterlife...) Poppaea waves to guest5! Quintus looks for one of those anacronistic machine guns. guest1: oh yes, god that show was damned good. guest1: the best yet. guest1: better then all the rest. Pretorian_Guard mutters "never again" into his wine. guest2: yes it was superb. guest1: clap clap clap. guest4: better never than late. guest5 is delighted by the gesture from the Empress! Quintus waves and slaps the Germania. guest1: I loved their... Petronius : You can't fool us. We know you have some swank event you're scooting off to. Cicero mutters: must ... get.. new... host... body... guest3: hooray! guest4: what did the empress do? guest1: talk. Poppaea : I know exactly how you feel. Pretorian_Guard slaps Germania for old time's sake. guest4 finishes the empress's wine. Cicero: hey everything worked technowise... guest1: oh what words they spoke. Poppaea laughs at Cicero! guest1: and we could hear them. guest1: and that is surely enough for audience. Germania spits on everyone, in great love and appreciation, but thinks it would have been better with the spoof verb. ...see how much good it does on line to tell anyone to shut up? guest5 : heck I didn't even come here! guest4: oh I hate these art events. ...it's just a conceptual thing... tell them to shut up knowing they'll do the opposite. Poppaea : Are you kidding??? Heather opened her mouth and I got booted off! Cicero: and how are we without emotes? I felt my hands were tied. Pretorian_Guard : yes we needed spooofing. guest1: theatre drove me to drink. Petronius: It's a pity there is no bourbon in Rome. guest5: bon voyage! guest3: I wouldn't be here if it weren't just busting at the seams with seemingly clever things to say. Pretorian_Guard: and I couldn't hear Cicero's speech at all. Cicero: I think the audience feels disconnected. guest3: I'm an american, I insult everyone. ...people have no staying power. guest4: Americans ARE an insult. ...it's a pointless job but someone has to do it. Cicero: after all they can't type. guest4: be American? guest3: I'll drink to that. guest2: they spell funny too. Quintus: they sure can drink. guest2: and smell funny. Quintus: and apparently... they like cheese. guest4: I can't hear myself type. guest3: I wuz jest born heer. Poppaea applauds guest5! Petronius: Then why is American cheeze so bad? guest3: my culture is not my own. Quintus: I can neither type nor spell. Cicero: cheese is culture that has gone bad.. hence American cheese. guest3: American cheese is actually a processed dairy food. Petronius : Wow. Did you just think of that? Pretorian_Guard which makes it a true mriacle that you're so good at this. Quintus: Cheese is culture that has been around too long. Poppaea: No fair the director singling out Players for praise. Poppaea: I mean, if they're not me. Pretorian_Guard: American culture is pasteurized cheese. Pretorian_Guard If I didn't play favorites, what fun would it be? Poppaea keeps thinking she hears howweird in the gallery. Quintus: indeed. Poppaea really loves it how you people think you have to log off, when she is the one staring at a clock that says 3:14. Quintus thought he smelled something funny. guest4: oh, those central Europeans! Quintus: Such a wild life you Europeans live. guest4: how did Poppaea even wake up? Poppaea sighs and picks some broccoli off Quintus's plate. guest4 slaps Poppaea. Quintus: I guess now things have really heated up since the introduction of the Euro. Pretorian_Guard offers Poppaea a big glass of Cabernet: Poppaea never went to sleep. guest4: boring money. Poppaea: I mean, for half a week now. guest4: why? Poppaea was also the only one who showed up at rhearsals. ...The Players will all be paid in Euros or possibly Argentinian pesos. guest4: monologues. guest4: but you're good at them. Quintus: That way YOU got all the attention. Petronius: When Euro bills wear out, do they become Eurotrash? Poppaea: That's how I broke my hand: I was walking upm these marble steps, thinking about theEuro. Quintus: Did the rehearsal have any impact on your performance tonight? Poppaea: And how I needed change for one. Poppaea: And what the fuck did Deutsche Telekomm think it was doing by raising the price of a phone call 150%? Pretorian_Guard some, but it would have been better if YOU could have been there... and also Germania, our other slacker. Quintus: That Euro sure can be distracting. Poppaea: That's when I fell on my face. Quintus: I know... I am sorry... family drama at the last minute. Pretorian_Guard : what is it about you lowlifes, the only ones who showed up were the elite classes-- Petronius, Poppaea, and Cicero. Quintus: Even all the way across the Atlantic, I can feel the disturbance of the Euro. Pretorian_Guard: I refuse to hear any more snide comments about decadence after this week's reherasals! Petronius: We're the only classes with the leisure... Poppaea : but you were out of town. Quintus: Now I am plastered to NYC by joblessness. Petronius: Au voir, mes amis. Pretorian_Guard : THANK YOU for joining us tonight. Poppaea : Jobless? Quintus: I thought everything was invented before the turn of the last century. Pretorian_Guard : jobless? Poppaea: What, after you had that excellent job that allowed you to moo all day? guest3: everything was invented in America. Poppaea: Why'd you give up that one? Pretorian_Guard: everything was CLAIMED to be inented in America. Quintus: I know...now I get to stay home...and experiment. guest4: but they were our foreigners. Poppaea leans over and looks at what Quintus has on the desktop. ...SO WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS ART AND WHO THOUGHT IT WAS SPAM? guest3: foreigners? where? Quintus: I need to do the freelance thing to wake up my inner-career. guest4: here! guest3: this is art. guest2: here! Poppaea: art? which is? guest3: and this. Pretorian_Guard looks up Poppaea's dress while she leans over the desk. guest3: this too. guest2: foreign art. guest4: slut. guest3: but this is not. guest4: speak for yourself. guest3: oh wait, I was wrong -- that was art. guest4: I... am art. Poppaea points out to the Guard that his lines are short. Pretorian_Guard: Everyone in America is a foreigner, they just don't all know it. guest2: what about people not in America? Poppaea's gonna be on her way back to Brooklyn if we don't improve soon. guest2: does that mean we are not foreigners? Quintus: scared of you, girl. Pretorian_Guard : that's becuse I have brain damage from lead poisoning, I can't recall the last letter of my sentence. guest4: not in America. Pretorian_Guard: you're so right, they're all foreigners too! guest4: a new art mag. Poppaea: I mean, who's gonna kick us out? Heather? Quintus: where is Heathen in all this? Pretorian_Guard : she abandoned us to drink bad wine with toney New York art snobs. Quintus: I heard DD was busy wit RL. Pretorian_Guard: DD says to tell you that everything will, as always, be made crystal clear when e reads the transcript. Quintus: funny how time and scotch makes things better. Poppaea considers whether pouring herself some wine at 3:30 is a good idea, or not. Quintus: pour now... think later. Poppaea threatens to move to Tokyo. Poppaea: It's gonna be time to get up real soon. Quintus: why, what time is it there? Poppaea: But then again, I actually... never have to get out of bed again. ...yes, folks, the evening is trailing to a sodden finish. ...not quite an ending, more a looong pause. ...nothing here ever really ends. ...people trail off to their lives, wondering why they bother to leave. Quintus: more a clinging stain. ...you could just stay here. really. Quintus: where else would I go? I mean this window closes...and I'm gone. Pretorian_Guard : Good point. But YOU could go join this party we're hearing. Poppaea: I forgot we were live on the wall. Quintus: nah, I have things to get done here. Quintus: Been making myself busy. Poppaea wonders if you people have any sense for art. ...like, lies... Pretorian_Guard : I can't go either, it'll be over by the time I get there, 10 hours from now. Assuming I leave the house immediately. Quintus: he he. How are things otherwise? Poppaea: S'okay, I actually DID GET BUMPED OFF the minute Heather started in with the introduction. After I'd been logged on for a week. Poppaea: So did Heather make up all those questions or what? guest2: the question part was very confusing. Pretorian_Guard: I think it was Heather and Robert and others on the ground. guest2: not satisfying at all. guest2: except I got permission not to obey the request to be quiet. Quintus: The questions themselves were fine. Poppaea: I mean, if we have to discuss art. Pretorian_Guard: I liked the answers better. Poppaea: Oh no, they're at it again. Pretorian_Guard : did you get in your bit about textual subjectivity? I didn't see it go by. Poppaea: Of course, you blinked. Poppaea: So what's this about you guyz doing more stage stuff later this year? Pretorian_Guard: Well, we hope to put the WHOLE Roman Forum 2 on stage, not just 2 monologues. There are in fact, scenes with more than one actor! guest2: good. Pretorian_Guard: It's not all monologues, appearances to the contrary. guest2: good about not all monologues. Poppaea assures guest2 that she rants, in this play. Pretorian_Guard: Live actors, multiple screens with projections, including the video backgrounds you saw tonight. guest2: sounds great! Pretorian_Guard: And all based on material from the Players and the Internet at large. Not one word came out of a book! Poppaea: My new life begins. Poppaea wonders if Pretorian_Guard has lost her mind. Poppaea: This and a lot of other--I was abt to say crap, but that might give you the wrong idea. Poppaea downs some phenobarbitol and wonders if she will sleep at all. guest2: is this the end? Pretorian_Guard pushes Poppaea gently towards her bed, where she will no doubt enjoy adrenaline-steamed dreams. Pretorian_Guard : it's always the end when Poppaea falls asleep. guest2: does that mean now we are her dream? Location One is logging off now. Location One hugs everyone. Location One: thanks so much. Pretorian_Guard waves goodbye to Location One. ...the memories, the laughter, even the black and blue screens... guest2 makes a mental note to come back to the site later & read the log. guest3: d'accord. guest2: I read about Plaintext Players ages ago on the net. guest2: this is the first time I have come to a show. Pretorian_Guard: Really? guest2: it is interesting. guest2: there is lots of potential. guest2: today seemed a little lumpy. Pretorian_Guard waves goodbye. ==END TRANSCRIPT==