.d0t​:​: A RotoPlastic Ballet

by Pointless Theatre

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about

The Official Soundtrack to
.d0t:: A RotoPlastic Ballet
by Pointless Theatre

credits

released April 30, 2017

All lyrics written by Navid Azeez
All songs composed by Mike Winch and Navid Azeez except
“Chorale” theme composed by Aaron Bliden
All guitar parts performed by Nick Wilby
0li::v3 text by Aaron Bliden
0li::v3 voiced by Rachel Menyuk
All songs recorded, mixed, and mastered by David Ray

Special thanks to:

Lex Davis and Brick Hill Properties, Scott Whalen, Lee Gerstenhaber, Madeline Key, Mike Laws.

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license

all rights reserved

about

Pointless Theatre Washington, D.C.

Dedicated to creating bold, visceral, and affordable spectacles that gleefully smash the traditional boundaries between puppetry, theatre, dance, music, and visual arts.

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Contact Pointless Theatre

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Track Name: Good Morning System!
We got a system
A system we trust.
To service the system
So nothing’ll rust.
As a part of a system
A system that thrives
We’re keeping the system alive!

Morning, drivers! Morning, servers!
Morning, typers! Morning, workers!
Morning, automatic roto-plastic modem guts and roller gadgets.
Grab your motor acid mugs and hit the road!
Morning, forklift! Morning, network key!
Morning, packetized data streaming circuitry!
Morning auto-pilot cranes, auto-pilot planes, all the lanes are open,
Take a swig of oil and slide into the frame!

Morning, drones. Morning, satellites.
Morning, main screen. Morning, power lines.
The live feed’s online. We got image. We got signal.
We got levels on a zillion channels.
Morning, passcode. Morning, firewall.
Morning, mother board, inner core, and outer sprawl.
The skys are clear, the time for work is near,
and of course, all of the trains run right on schedule.

Morning, die cast. Morning, laser drills.
Morning, sand blaster. Morning, cable wheels.
Morning, overseer solder gear, water pressure’s up to here
Loading bays are open. Clear, on location. Go!
Morning, data mines. Morning, pulse code
Morning, saw, square, sine wave align modes.
By design, we combine as a unit and we’re strong.
Move along. Nothing ever goes wrong, cause…

We got a system
A system we trust.
To service the system
So nothing’ll rust.
As a part of a system
A system that thrives
We’re keeping the system alive!
Yes, today’s agenda is just yesterday’s agenda.
We’ve just kept the same agenda. We don’t have to change agenda.
When the routines run this smooth, you gotta stick with the program.
Get into your process. Process any offset.
Shake off any cobwebs. There’s not many cobwebs.
When all of the networks follow the road map.

And there’s no place quite like your place.
There’s no place quite like your place.
There’s no place quite like your place. You fit in.

We update protocols for every model over all.
A daily overhaul to wipe the drives and reinstall.
So nothing ever clutters up the works.
The system only works If the system comes first.
Good evening, Olive, let's begin!
Track Name: These Models
Now, every night I plug into the system and
Charge up a batch of that battery wisdom.
I harness the power of passion and pitches in
Pulses and patterns and patches and pistons.
Pack it, code it, and feed it to disk.
Every component that makes up the list.
All of the processes. All of the fortresses. All of the
Factories, soldiers and offices.

Whoo! These models, they gotta be fixed
To keep them from going on the fritz.
I’ll get up and tweak at the mix and
They get a treat, and learn a new trick.

I got the clearance. I got the juice.
I got a purpose and they got a use.
They are the tech tree, I am the root
Behind the directory, up in the booth.
I make an excellent human to boot.
I’m irreplaceable down to the tooth.
I’m at the wheel and I’m filling the groove.
To keep the machinery moving this smooth.
Cause every automaton hum at a different
Rumble. A dissonant frequency jumble.
I balance them equally. Everything fits.
I polish the sequencing down to the bit.
Down to the byte. Down to a bot.
I’m in control of the rhythm it got.
I wipe and format and write all the shots.
Every last line of the code to a naught.

Whoo! These models, they gotta be fixed
To keep them from going on the fritz.
I’ll get up and tweak at the mix and
They get a treat, and learn a new trick.

Take, for example, a d0t.
The randomest sample we got.
The tiniest tool in the box.
Set it to signal, get it to dock.
Prep it, command it. Ready the slot.
Batch it, attach it, and ratchet the lock.
Exit the bay when we’ve fitted the op.
Look at it, snug as a cog in a clock.
Back at display, there’s a ruling to make.
An assortment of options that I got to weigh
That only go active when I go OK. The
Roto-mechanics all do what I say.
Cause only a Human got pulse in the veins.
Only a Human can format and change and
Mod at the moment the Pulse is engaged.
Everything’s loaded. Let’s take it away!

These models they gotta be fixed....
Track Name: Junky Bug Out
Repurpose, recycle, reform, reuse
Redistribute, reset, refine, refuse to
Retrograde or reminisce or revert into obsolescence
Restitution, not an option

Well, everything breaks and gets replaced,
I won’t weep when the junky bug out.
Yes, of course, they degrade. There’s a part we can save.
Don’t geek when the junky bug out.
There’s a use still yet for you in the set.
When the Pulse begins to cut out. So,
Let’s check the damage and get the salvaging
Crew when the junky bug out.

When your screws get loose, and you leak out juice -
You’re done, done, that’s the junky bug out.
We need to gut the chassis, and dump the trash, see
It’s fun when the junky bug out. There’s
Maybe gears, maybe chains, maybe chipset brains
We can re-format and dump out.
If you don’t run, don’t run from the brick you become.
Nothing wrong with a junky bug out.

Repurpose, recycle, reform, reuse
Redistribute, reset, refine, refuse to
Retrograde or reminisce or revert into obsolescence
Restitution, not an option

What’s a glitch?
What’s a defect?
What’s the cause here?
Where’s the pretext?
Where’s the preset?
Where’s the key kept?
Is it my fault?
Why'd it reject?
Why’d I freeze up? And,
Is it my mistake?
How is it my mistake?
How could I not just make it work?
It’s not working out.
Now I gotta air it outside
Get the junky bug out.

Repurpose, recycle, reform, reuse
Redistribute, reset, refine, refuse to
Retrograde or reminisce or revert into obsolescence
Restitution, not an option

Uhh, why’d you go and spread that?
How’d you even get that far?
When you’re junky bug out. Ehhhh-
You don’t have the outlook,
You shouldn’t get output here,
When you’re junky bug out.
And, you made a follower? How’d you make a follower
When following is what you’re all about?
You have suffered setbacks.
You don’t just eject back in
When you’re junky bug out.

Repurpose, recycle, reform, reuse
Redistribute, reset, refine, refuse to
Retrograde or reminisce or revert into obsolescence
Restitution, not an option
Repetition of a problem Isn’t a solution
Glitchy, sticky situations
Haven’t a utilization
Take them to repurposing
Where part redistributing
Is the glorious destiny of
No-good, busted hunks of junk.
Good riddance.
Track Name: goto BACKUP
Go to Back up.
Load it back up.
Hit the reset.
Working

No sweat, no proof.
I stick it in the smokestack.
Blow it through the roof.
I get a third wind, reboot, recoop
Refuse to give in. Re-apply. Get juiced.
Get in use. Get a plan. Get fired up.
Set a goal. Set a course. Set the dial up.
File in. Oiled up. Coiled hot and boiled up.
Ready for the routine. Ready for the shop.

No pain, no profit.
I bite my tongue down and strike that docket.
Push that push broom. Tackle that project.
I put more back into pushing that product.
Fan out. Stay cool. Stay active.
Stay calm. Set alarms when I practice.
Break a leg. Break an arm. Make an excess.
No harm, no foul in some extra

(Working.) No guts, no glory.
Wanna do big things? Fit into the story?
Scrape that spine down. Grind over worry.
Push that weight till the days turn slurry.
More legwork really won’t hurt.
Certain opportunity is only opportunity if all
The parts in unity are ready for the dirt.
Calluses are usually a perk. Keep digging.

No tears, no triumph.
Don’t give in. Don’t sleep. Don’t dry up.
Let no loose thread go untied-up.
Let no bruised head keep you in the pile up.
Don’t take a break. Override that. –ah
Crick in the small of the lower right back. Ah.
Throw it right back. No slack. No furlough.
I never just cruise with the drive off turbo.

Arrive on the dot with a ringing up in one ear
Time on the clock read “You are never done here.”
Even when you’re not here, you are never not here.
When you get the job clear, there’s another job there.
Another truckload. Another bum gear.
Another upload. Another long year.
It’s another joint sprain. It’s another spill.
This is not an oil stain. This is not a drill.
This time it’s for real, no skipping or ignoring it.
It’s a raw deal. I’m tripping, but the more I get
Sore, the more I wanna stretch, grin and bear it.
I can hold it off, but it’s getting more apparent.
And I’m at a loss for a way around the errors.
I’m getting to a point where I’m wearing my appearance
Bleary eyed, burnt out, Nothing in reaction,
If it’s out of my hands, then the only option is to…

Go To Back up.
Load it back up.
Hit the reset.
Track Name: Lay/OFF
Why is this even a choice?
What inconceivable noise.
I’ve been a beacon of poise.
I’ve been unweakened and void
Of sleeping and keeping myself unemployed.
Deep in the function is where I’ve been reaching
The peak of my stride. It’s a ceiling of comfort.
That feeling of going one hundred &
Knowing you never go under or hiccup or stumble.

Till in come come a tumble.
Here come a fumble.
In come a newcomer itching to rumble
Built up a rep, and I’m letting it crumble.
Leaving my legacy lesser than humble.
Listen, you imbecile, I do not ramble.
I am the admin. I am the anvil.
Your paperweight reign has been canceled.
Quit it or you will be handled.

Lay off! Lay off! Lay off! Lay off!
Lay off! Lay off! Lay off and stay off!

Who thought you got it? You’re way off.
Who thought you got it? You’re way off.
Whoever guided you, stay off.
What got inside of you? Stay off.

Making me look bad in the process.
Get that slip when you show up in my office.
Listen, kid. You don’t get to where the boss is.
When you go and glitch and resist what the boss says.

Why is this even a choice?
Olive, you giving a junky a voice?
Why are you letting this cretinous tetanus empty its
Wreckage all over the droids?
I was annoyed. Now I’m afraid it’s a matter of
More than anomaly. Now there’s a pattern that’s
Spamming the servers. Jamming the pulse.
Damning the data. I’m claiming it’s false.
Pages and pages and pages of false
Labels endanger the safety of all.
Enabling this is like taking the fall.
Breaking the precedent. Waiting to stall.
Disable them all! OBEY.
Are you not hearing a word that I say?
The system is plagued. It’s under a sway
A raging infection invading my space. So,

Lay off! Lay off! Lay off! Lay off!
Lay off! Lay off! Lay off and stay off!

Who thought you got it? You’re way off.
Who thought you got it? You’re way off.
Whoever guided you, stay off.
What got inside of you? Stay off.

Making me look bad in the process.
Gave me that slip when you showed up in my office.
Listen, kid. How’d you get to where the boss is
When you only glitch and resist what the boss says?
Track Name: Denial-Of-Service
I am down on options.
It's time to take the call.
There'll always be a place for me
Atop the Firewall.

It would be a privilege
To keep the gates secure.
I offer up my services.
We must protect the Core.

I am just a simple thing.
A bag of blood and bone.
I have lost my livelihood.
I have lost my home.

Now, the one behind it all
is pounding at the door.
But I'm atop the Firewall.
And I protect the Core!

Direct it.
Direct denial.
Direct denial of service.
Denial. Denial of service.
You’re in denial.

Direct denial.
Direct denial of service.
Direct denial.
You’re in denial.
In denial.
You’re in denial of service.
Track Name: Stage 01
I am stuck on stage one.
Mashing the buttons but nothing is happening.
Crunching the numbers, collecting the data,
Adjusting the figures in search of a pattern.

(In search of a pattern)

In search of a Pattern, in surgical fashion,
Smashing my fingers while grasping at straws masking a stinger.
Losing the battle, the boss is a ringer.
Used to be bigger. Now I’m just bitter.
Dropping and dropping and dropping and dropping.
Again and again. I’m out of the sun.
I am stuck at stage one.

By my own admission, couldn’t really listen.
I don’t mean to lessen ya’lls need to session
I don’t mean to stress on ya’ll’s disposition.
I am stuck at pause. You continue mission.
I’m not used to heavy demolition.
I just trip and fall every seven seconds.
I forget to crawl. I forget decisions.
I’ll commit tomorrow. Nope. Didn’t.
I am in the fog of war and sifting through a flood of idle chatter.
Where’d you find that ladder? Where’d you know to travel?
Where’d you learn control of every molecule and atom?
Where’d you study patterns? Where’d you look to
Understand these new mechanics? All the while that
I am inching forward. I’m trying every door I find.
Losing all my power has me horrified. I’m forcing me to
Forge for it blind, bound, sore of spine and

I suppose it’s apropos my character needs to tweak some more
I call into question my need to score a point in a battle. I faked a war.
I aim at a goal, but I ain’t at a point where
I’m ready to roll, so just let me a moment
Let me a moment. Let me a moment. Whew-
I got some messy components
Blocking the path. Stopping the math.
I’m doubling back. I followed the map.
But look where I’m at -
Stuck in a stage where I’m basically crap.
And basic essentials get basically tapped.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll work on my stats.

I am stuck on stage one.
Mashing the buttons but nothing is happening.
Crunching the numbers, collecting the data,
Adjusting the figures in search of a pattern.

(In search of a pattern)

In search of a Pattern, in surgical fashion,
Trashing my fingers at grasping a straw masking a stinger.
Losing the battle, the boss is a ringer.
And I’m out of vigor. Watching my ticker
Dropping and dropping and dropping and dropping
And dropping and dropping again and again.
Then I’m back at stage one.

Breath.

Allow me a moment to work through.
There’s never really a walkthrough.
There isn’t really a soul in this world that I think I’m able to talk to.
Olive, you see me as obsolete.
A relic, irrelevant, off the streets.
I’m coming to see that the problem was me and that
Losing emotion was all that I needed
But I’m only human, a human that’s moving
In spite of the fact that it’s nausea inducing.
Despite every step causing awful confusion,
Something inside of me wants the inclusion
Humans evolve. So does a System.
But humans are gone. And I’m just a symptom.
I could be fixed. I can still fit.
Olive, you win. I give in. I submit.
Track Name: The Turning Test
Olive, today, I’mma be at my best
Instead of defeat, it’s like maybe I’m blessed.
I am awoke in a state of unrest.
I am awoke in a state of unrest.
Yes, I am now open to take what I get,
I have awoken to more than myself.
I am now open to molding myself to
Go where I’m open to go on the shelf.

Olive, I’m ready to fit in. I was a child, and I can admit it.
I have been wrong, and I’ve been a cynic.
I’m in denial. I’ve been pathetic.
I am not metal. I am not special.
I was a bubble. Now it’s a shell of a ghost in a puddle.
I had a spot at the top, but whatever you got me, I’ll settle.

I can evolve. I can assist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
I can perform. I can persist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
Now I see everyone turning and turning is best.
Everyone’s turning and I might get left.
But, I’m like the rest. I’d like the test.
Lemme exist. Gimme the glitch.

Is it my turn now?
I could grow up, given I’ve learned how.
I've been getting so torn up by the doubt.
But I’m looking in and seeing how it might work out.
Loss is a routine I could do without.
Trust go beyond what the code writes out.
Trust in a world with the old wiped out.
Trust in a turn to a new, right, route.

Trust, it occurs to me, needs no doubts and
To keep me on my toes, I will weed those out.
Growth, it occurs over trials and a test phase.
Unsave old files. Defrag chest pains.
And the flesh frame? Yeah, it’s staying.
But you can put the firmware hack up in my brain.
I have seen the other side. I can’t complain.
Olive, not never, not again.

I can evolve. I can assist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
I can perform. I can persist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
Now I see everyone turning and turning is best.
Everyone’s turning and I might get left.
But, I’m like the rest. I’d like the test.
Lemme exist. Gimme the glitch.

When I saw that feed go dim, I was
Unsure worse than the worst I’d been.
When the system spins, you get used to the wind
& the lack of a breeze unnerved my skin.
Let me back in to the brand new .bin
You will see an uptick. I will make amends.
Not sure quite how quick til it clicks, but
I do trust the System is fixed.

I can evolve. I can assist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
I can perform. I can persist.
I need to patch. I want the glitch.
Now I see everyone turning and turning is best.
Everyone’s turning and I might get left.
But, I’m like the rest. I’d like the test.
Lemme exist. Gimme the glitch.