Advertisement
Stay in the Loop
BSR publishes on a weekly schedule, with an email newsletter every Wednesday and Thursday morning. There’s no paywall, and subscribing is always free.
'Shane' in the computer age
Dan Rottenberg
Computer-age drama:
Shane, armed with an iPhone
DAN ROTTENBERG
“Within five years, every middle-class American will have a computer in his or her wristwatch,” the Drexel University sociologist and futurist Arthur Shostak once predicted. That prospect, Shostak added, raises the possibility that, in the future, people can settle their arguments rationally rather than emotionally, if they’re so inclined.
Never mind that Shostak uttered that prediction more than ten years ago. The age of the Blackberry and the iPhone— which is to say instant portable knowledge— is clearly upon us. The implications for human behavior are profound, especially in the arts. If the essence of drama is conflict, a whole lot of dramas will have to be rewritten. I invite Broad Street Review readers to beat the rush by submitting their own computer-age updates for classic dramatic confrontations.
To get the ball rolling, I offer my own revision: the climactic scene of the 1953 Western Shane, in which the hero, acting as proxy for the noble farmer Joe Starett, arrives at Will Grafton’s saloon for a showdown with the Riker brothers and their hired gunslinger, Jack Wilson.
Shane: I came to get your offer, Riker.
Riker: I'm not dealing with you. Where's Starrett?
Shane: You're dealing with me, Riker.
Riker: I got no quarrel with you, Shane. You walk out now and no hard feelings.
Shane: What's your offer, Riker?
Riker: To you, not a thing.
Shane: That's too bad.
Riker: Too bad?
Shane: Yeah, you've lived too long. Your kind of days are over.
Riker: My days? What about yours, gunfighter?
Shane: The difference is I know it.
Riker: All right. So we'll all turn in our six-guns to the bartender. We'll all start hoeing spuds. Is that it?
Shane: Not quite yet. We haven't heard from your friend here (indicating the gunfighter Wilson).
Wilson: I wouldn't push too far if I were you. (Wilson stands and approaches, while the saloon dog slinks out and another card player departs.) Our fight ain't with you.
Shane: It ain't with me, Wilson?
Wilson: No it ain't, Shane.
Riker: I wouldn't pull on Wilson, Shane. Will, you're a witness to this.
Shane: So you're Jack Wilson.
Wilson: What's that mean to you, Shane?
Shane: I've heard about you.
Wilson (pulling on his shooting glove, glowering menacingly): What have you heard, Shane?
Shane (deliberately provoking): I’ve heard that you’re a low-down Yankee liar.
Wilson: Prove it.
(Shane instantly reaches for his back pocket and whips out not a gun, but an iPhone. The others gather around excitedly.)
Shane: OK— let’s see— you were born in Camden, New Jersey, so that makes you a Yankee. And Camden is six feet below sea level, so that makes you low-down. Also, on your resumé you claimed to be a high school graduate, but it says here you were actually kicked out of elementary school in fourth grade for aggressive behavior, such as bringing a Colt revolver into class for "Show and Tell." So that makes you a liar.
Riker (to Wilson): You falsified your resumé? No employee of mine doctors his resumé and gets away with it. You’re fired!
Shane: Wait— there’s more. It says here that, according to the U.S. Department of the Interior's projections, the frontier as we know it will be gone by 1890. That’s just a few years from now. Also, a study by the Department of Agriculture reports that potato farming is economically and ecologically more efficient than raising cattle for beef, which is higher in cholesterol and requires a disproportionately large investment in land for grazing and other overhead, such as the hiring of costly gunfighters. Potatoes, by contrast, are high in nutrients, heart-friendly and offer a superior return on investment. (To Riker.) So you see, your days really are over. What's more, your biography in Wikipedia says you're 52, whereas the Census Department says the average life expectancy of a frontier male is only 36. So you really have lived too long.
Riker: Not so fast, Shane. You can't write someone off just because he deviates from the mean. Read Wikipedia's article on "statistical anomalies." And what am I supposed to do with my cattle herd? I've invested my entire life in it.
Shane: Google "cattle brokers— Wyoming Territory." Better still, you can sell your herd on eBay and eliminate the middleman's commission. Then, Google "personal financial advisers" for someone to help you and your brother diversify the proceeds in order to hedge your future risk. You can also find a trust and estates lawyer who'll shelter your estate from taxes so your assets will pass intact to your children. All this without leaving your cabin.
Wilson: But what about me? I'm 28, I'm out of a job, and my trade is obsolete.
Shane: Click on Google and type in "gunfighter retraining programs— Cheyenne." The new economy offers all sorts of opportunities for fellows like you. I myself am learning Morse Code in order to operate a telegraph.
As Riker and Wilson saddle up for the long three-day ride to the nearest electronics store, the voice-over intones:
“The iPhone: A better way to settle an argument.”
Shane, armed with an iPhone
DAN ROTTENBERG
“Within five years, every middle-class American will have a computer in his or her wristwatch,” the Drexel University sociologist and futurist Arthur Shostak once predicted. That prospect, Shostak added, raises the possibility that, in the future, people can settle their arguments rationally rather than emotionally, if they’re so inclined.
Never mind that Shostak uttered that prediction more than ten years ago. The age of the Blackberry and the iPhone— which is to say instant portable knowledge— is clearly upon us. The implications for human behavior are profound, especially in the arts. If the essence of drama is conflict, a whole lot of dramas will have to be rewritten. I invite Broad Street Review readers to beat the rush by submitting their own computer-age updates for classic dramatic confrontations.
To get the ball rolling, I offer my own revision: the climactic scene of the 1953 Western Shane, in which the hero, acting as proxy for the noble farmer Joe Starett, arrives at Will Grafton’s saloon for a showdown with the Riker brothers and their hired gunslinger, Jack Wilson.
Shane: I came to get your offer, Riker.
Riker: I'm not dealing with you. Where's Starrett?
Shane: You're dealing with me, Riker.
Riker: I got no quarrel with you, Shane. You walk out now and no hard feelings.
Shane: What's your offer, Riker?
Riker: To you, not a thing.
Shane: That's too bad.
Riker: Too bad?
Shane: Yeah, you've lived too long. Your kind of days are over.
Riker: My days? What about yours, gunfighter?
Shane: The difference is I know it.
Riker: All right. So we'll all turn in our six-guns to the bartender. We'll all start hoeing spuds. Is that it?
Shane: Not quite yet. We haven't heard from your friend here (indicating the gunfighter Wilson).
Wilson: I wouldn't push too far if I were you. (Wilson stands and approaches, while the saloon dog slinks out and another card player departs.) Our fight ain't with you.
Shane: It ain't with me, Wilson?
Wilson: No it ain't, Shane.
Riker: I wouldn't pull on Wilson, Shane. Will, you're a witness to this.
Shane: So you're Jack Wilson.
Wilson: What's that mean to you, Shane?
Shane: I've heard about you.
Wilson (pulling on his shooting glove, glowering menacingly): What have you heard, Shane?
Shane (deliberately provoking): I’ve heard that you’re a low-down Yankee liar.
Wilson: Prove it.
(Shane instantly reaches for his back pocket and whips out not a gun, but an iPhone. The others gather around excitedly.)
Shane: OK— let’s see— you were born in Camden, New Jersey, so that makes you a Yankee. And Camden is six feet below sea level, so that makes you low-down. Also, on your resumé you claimed to be a high school graduate, but it says here you were actually kicked out of elementary school in fourth grade for aggressive behavior, such as bringing a Colt revolver into class for "Show and Tell." So that makes you a liar.
Riker (to Wilson): You falsified your resumé? No employee of mine doctors his resumé and gets away with it. You’re fired!
Shane: Wait— there’s more. It says here that, according to the U.S. Department of the Interior's projections, the frontier as we know it will be gone by 1890. That’s just a few years from now. Also, a study by the Department of Agriculture reports that potato farming is economically and ecologically more efficient than raising cattle for beef, which is higher in cholesterol and requires a disproportionately large investment in land for grazing and other overhead, such as the hiring of costly gunfighters. Potatoes, by contrast, are high in nutrients, heart-friendly and offer a superior return on investment. (To Riker.) So you see, your days really are over. What's more, your biography in Wikipedia says you're 52, whereas the Census Department says the average life expectancy of a frontier male is only 36. So you really have lived too long.
Riker: Not so fast, Shane. You can't write someone off just because he deviates from the mean. Read Wikipedia's article on "statistical anomalies." And what am I supposed to do with my cattle herd? I've invested my entire life in it.
Shane: Google "cattle brokers— Wyoming Territory." Better still, you can sell your herd on eBay and eliminate the middleman's commission. Then, Google "personal financial advisers" for someone to help you and your brother diversify the proceeds in order to hedge your future risk. You can also find a trust and estates lawyer who'll shelter your estate from taxes so your assets will pass intact to your children. All this without leaving your cabin.
Wilson: But what about me? I'm 28, I'm out of a job, and my trade is obsolete.
Shane: Click on Google and type in "gunfighter retraining programs— Cheyenne." The new economy offers all sorts of opportunities for fellows like you. I myself am learning Morse Code in order to operate a telegraph.
As Riker and Wilson saddle up for the long three-day ride to the nearest electronics store, the voice-over intones:
“The iPhone: A better way to settle an argument.”
Sign up for our newsletter
All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.
