Article: 261432 of talk.bizarre
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: (Chris Reuter)
Subject: Robert, the Sampler (Extended Dance Mix)
Sender: (news spool owner)
Message-ID: <49nlon$>
Date: Fri, 1 Dec 1995 19:41:11 GMT
Lines: 103
Organization: University of Waterloo Computer Science Club
Status: O

	       Robert, the Sampler (Extended Dance Mix)

	Robert is a human sampler.  He records and plays back.  He
loops and edits.  He processes and archives.  He sounds almost, but
not quite, like the real thing.

Verse 1:
	Robert is in geography class.
	The teacher is droning on about drought cycles when a giggle
interrupts the flow.  This is serious, because inattention belittles
the topic and the teaching.  It implies that the teacher's work is
meaningless and this, in turn, denies the teacher's worth.
	The perpetrator is Marcia, sitting in the back.
	The teacher glares at her for a moment, long enough for the
class to know what's next.  Then he brings down his scathing wit,
honed from a childhood at the receiving end and fueled by his vast
reserves of inner rage.  When it's over, she's bleeding apologies.
	Robert records.
	The lecture continues.  The teacher's gaze wanders over the
students' faces, looking for another victim.  Robert feels the glare
of attention and plays back intense concentration mixed with a subtly
rapturous fascination.  The teacher's eyes move on.

(Repeat chorus)

Verse 2:
	Robert is in the cafeteria picking at his Lunch Special.  The
guy beside him makes a bad pun and Robert absently plays back
sarcastic laughter.  He then plays back a joke he'd sampled from
Letterman the night before.  Some of the others laugh.  The rest have
already heard it.
	There's a lull in the conversation and suddenly everyone can
hear the couple at the next table.  She's giving him shit for flirting
and he's faking shame and repentance.  Robert sucks it all in.  His
eyes flash for a moment as he offloads to disk.

(Repeat chorus)

Verse 3:
	Robert is working cash at the drugstore.  It's the lull
between the afternoon rush and the evening rush.
	The man stomps in and bludgeons his way to the checkout.  He
throws a bottle of generic aspirin onto the counter and asks Robert
what the fuck is wrong with this store that he can't even buy one
fucking bottle of aspirin with the safety-seal still intact.  Three
times in a row it's happened to him.  Three goddamn times!
	Robert plays back Marcia's frantic apologies until the guy
calms down.  Finally, the customer takes another box of the generic
aspirin from the rack and walks out.  His manner is much more relaxed,
the bearing of one who isn't going to let the world dominate _him_.

(Repeat chorus)

(Instrumental bridge)

(Guitar solo)

(Repeat chorus)

Verse 4:
	Robert and Tracy are in his car, at the drive-in.  The movie
sucks and they've started talking.  At least, Tracy's talking.
	She tells Robert that she's feeling used.  She doesn't believe
that Robert's being genuine with her.  He's so shallow sometimes that
she doesn't even believe he's human; just a really smart parrot.
Robert plays back the faked shame and repentance.  He loops the sample
until she relents.
	Later, they go to the back seat and screw.

(Repeat chorus)

(False ending)

(Repeat chorus twice)

(Long instrumental, fading out)

    all this is true

Chris Reuter,