The Matrix : Neo-Multiculturalism and Neo-Nazis
by Ted Allen
CONTENTS:
I. INTRODUCTION
II. WESTERN UNION
III. METHOD
IV. LEXICON; THE MATRIX
V. ZION
VI. THE PEOPLE
VII. MORPHEUS
VIII. TRINITY
IX. THE REST OF THE CREW
X. THEORY AND STRUGGLE
XI. LIFE, ART, PAIN AND AUNT JEMIMA
XII. MOROLOGY; "THERE IS NO SPOON" AND SUPER-POWER
XIII. CIPHER UP CLOSE; "DON'T HATE ME TRINITY"
XIV. GULAG, EPIPHANY AND REVISIONISM
XV. RACISM AND SHICKLGRUBER
XVI. STRAW MEN AND RELATIVISM
XVII. GODDESS POWER AND APOTHEOSIS
XVIII. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE
I
Every day our schools, media and entertainment industry spread messages that permeate and
influence every level of culture. These messages, whether conveyed through real-world
examples or fictional representations, contain implicit cues as to how the viewer is
expected to perceive and react to similar situations in his everyday life. These cues,
strong hints, if you will, are registered either subliminally, or just above the boundary
of awareness. Yet they linger somewhere between a whisper and a faint memory even after
the initial message is past, and they are a powerful impetus to behavior. So powerful that
the mass of individuals is unaware of the effect these messages have on the way it interacts
with others. Indeed, in this day of Political Correctness, we are coaxed, goaded and
programmed around the clock as to what is acceptable conduct and what is not. Acceptable
conduct, after all, is the substance of civilization. It is what separates us from the
"lower" creatures on this planet. It is the business of life in which we involve ourselves
every day. Important business it is.
II
So important is this enterprise that Hollywood, where it used to be said, "If you want to
send a message, go to Western Union," now invests BILLIONS in supporting conventions that
are believed to be in the interest of all concerned, whether they want it or not! In the
corner of some collective mind it has been decided that there are dark forces afoot
threatening the fabric and structure of our culture. These nebulous entities must be
stopped. The collective consciousness, in its infinite wisdom, must direct the less aware,
the less astute as to who the "evil" ones are, but they must not alarm or unnecessarily
agitate their charges so as not to disrupt the orderly flow of the business of life. The
people must be told, but there must be a return for this hard work of shepherding. One
cannot expect Pharaoh to subsist on adulation alone. Let the workers be "entertained" as
they are instructed in acceptable comport, and they will reciprocate with comely submission
to the wise edicts they obliviously absorb. Further, they will offer up not only their
gold to the gods of pleasure and diversion but their freedom to make up their own minds as
well. Most important, they will do so willingly, because they were told to, even though
they can't quite remember by whom or when it occurred. It makes it so much easier when the
masses do not require beatings and torture. Psychological coercion is so much more tidy
and profitable. And profit is a part of the business of life, writ large!
III
In keeping with this grandiose scale, the silver screen offers a canvas of inspiring
proportion upon which the orders of the king can be displayed. It affords the priests of
cultural education an expansive construct worthy of delivering the message uttered by the
high priests of civility. Through this larger-than-life window, viewers can appreciate the
magnitude of the wisdom imparted, all the while escaping from the cares of the day and the
need to trouble their minds with what to think. Thinking will be done for them; they will
be SHOWN what to do. Unfortunately, by surrendering their will, they have unwittingly, yet
voluntarily, fallen prey to what Antonio Gramsci, an obscure Italian Marxist social
engineer, called 'hegemony.' However, it must be kept in mind that it is for their own
good, and Pharaoh knows best. Just as did Marx.
IV
Marxist lexicon has become a subtle and largely unnoticed component of the common language.
This language is not only the words we use to communicate, but also the themes conveyed and
the symbols, both visual and emotional, used to deliver them. Control the language, the
method of transmitting ways of thinking, norms of behavior, the means of interacting, and
interpersonal relationships on an individual or collective scale, and global populations
will be disposed for manipulation. The principles of hegemony and beguilement are seen at
work very clearly in the film industry when the overlay of social criticism is turned
around and used as a mirror to reflect the messages that are filtered to an unaware public
each time it goes out for a little entertainment; that is, to trump the Marxists at their
own game, as it were. Utilizing a science fiction landscape, known as the Matrix,
Hollywood creates then ignores a paradox by sidestepping its own admonishment and delivers
a politically correct telegram unparalleled for insidiousness and unsurpassed for a
sledgehammer soft sell.
V
The dichotomy is posed through the icons of two warring factions: the Matrix, which
appears to be the world we see around us; and Zion, which is outside the Matrix. Normal
people inhabit the Matrix, while Zion is comprised of individuals known as "insiders."
Through the efforts of the insiders, the viewer is reborn into a reality that no one in his
right mind would choose to renounce once he became aware of it. That reality is Zion.
These terms have been carefully chosen, and are crafted to create an underlying tension
which will direct the mind of those engaged by the story line.
VI
Zion is peopled by a group that looks quite normal by broadcast standards today. There are
Blacks, Latinos, females, males, Whites and, upon closer examination, hints at enclaves
which are historically well known and those which have only recently begun to gain attention
as acceptable individuals as well. More on this later. The Matrix, on the other hand,
though populated by garden-variety folk, has an additional group known as Agents. Now
every society seems to require the services of some form of law enforcement. But these
Agents bear special attention. First, they are white males. More specifically, they are
emotionless, dictatorial and violent white males. This is not that unusual, for most
authority figures in films and in reality are white males, and a certain amount of violent
behavior is to be expected, as they must interact with violent people. However, it must be
emphasized that in this setting they are EXCLUSIVELY white males, and as the plot unfolds
it is revealed that they are cruel and sadistic. Still not too much of a stretch, because
in the news, on television programs and in films, white males are depicted as the sole
perpetrators of most violent, cruel activity. This principle will be expanded further at a
later point, but first, a digression for a closer examination of the insiders is in order.
VII
The insiders, a multicultural lot, are composed of Morpheus, the black male leader and
captain of a cyber hovercraft named the NEBUCHADNEZZER, and several other pivotal figures.
Nebuchadnezzer, if you recall your Old Testament history, was the king of Babylon. It was
he who carried the Israelites into captivity from Jerusalem, the city of David, also known
as Zion. Literary irony is a recurrent device throughout the film, for it is through the
vehicle of this hovercraft which bears the ancient king's name that the insiders transport
refugees of the Matrix to Zion, Jewish Shamballah, in the story. Morpheus is the benevolent
and long- suffering, self-sacrificing individual who has been searching for the story's main
and pivotal character, Neo; Thomas A. Anderson as he is known to the Matrix. This black
man will assist the white man, Neo, and enable him to overcome his "residual self image"
and redefine himself. Morpheus will open Neo's eyes to the "real world." As Morpheus
tells Neo, who struggles with confusion, "Answers are coming."
VIII
Second in command of Morpheus' ship and crew is Trinity. This black-vinyl-clad, bowlegged,
white female hottie is the New World Wonder Woman. Though soft spoken, she is not a woman
to be trifled with; she did, single-handedly, take out a squad of Matrix police officers
who thought they could "handle one little girl," and successfully eluded three Matrix Agents.
That's agents with a capital A, because they are not only white and cruel, these boys have
huge dorsal fins and are possessed of special capabilities that elevate them to the level
of "SUPERMEN." Curious, but more on this subject later. Every man needs a helpmeet, and
Trinity serves as Neo's belated love interest. And love has dulled her New World edge, for
she only mildly rebukes Neo's sexist affronts for the sake of it. He, comments the
fetching Trinity, "like most guys," thought she was a he because the IRS database had been
hacked. Who else but a guy could have accomplished so Herculean a feat? Tit for tat is
acceptable feminist orthodoxy, so there is no hypocrisy in her retort. Yet something must
be done about this "love" thing, for it impedes the uniform, expedient application of
progressive principles. But this is getting ahead of the story.
IX
Following Trinity and somewhat in keeping with proletarian theory, in no specific order of
ranking, there is Tank. He appears to be Latino, but later we discover he has an African
hyphen something genetic background and a biological brother named Dozer. This is more
than an aside condoning mixed-race coupling. Whatever the case may be, you decide his race.
Then there is Cypher, a shaven-headed, mustachioed individual with white skin. Of course,
he bears watching for that reason alone. Next is Apoc, a Latino of unquestionable Mestizo
ancestry. Next is Switch, another white female, possibly a lesbian. Keep a close eye on
her understated submission responses, the softening of her expressions and body language
when she is near Trinity. Also, be attentive to the openly violent potential when Switch
holds Neo at gunpoint. Perhaps her behavior toward Neo could originate from a natural and
healthy distrust of someone still plugged into the Matrix but there is an edge to her
hostility that transcends an instinct for self-preservation. She watches the main
character with a perpetual sneer on her face. At the very least, she is AC/DC. Observe
her emotionally wrenching response to Apoc's death, in direct contrast to her interactions
with Neo; nice anti-white-male, interracial sub-text plug here, not to mention diversity.
And finally there is Mouse. Mouse is the final white, nominally male crewmember. Although
his sexual orientation is clarified later, he does lust after his cyber-creation in the
form of the Lady in Red. Of greater importance than any gender question are his demeanor
and his attitudes. Mouse appears somehow Jewish. Physically, especially facially, he
looks like a Jew. As Amon Goeth, the Nazi concentration camp Commander in Schindler's
List pondered metaphysically, "Is this the face of a rat? Hath not a Jew eyes?" Additionally,
recall the submissive, non-assertive posture when introduced to Neo: hands folded at his
chest, with a slight bow. But more important than these is his philosophical perspective.
In the world of moral relativism, Mouse attempts to ingratiate himself with Neo by licentiously
counseling, "To deny our own impulses is to deny the very thing that makes us human."
Another significant factor concerning Mouse is the way he is treated by other crew members,
primarily Apoc and Switch. The former individuals hold Mouse in contempt. They either
behave intimidatingly toward him, or they converse sarcastically at him, not to him. Apoc,
interjecting himself uninvited into a conversation between Mouse and Neo, commands Mouse to
"shut up." Pausing only to allow Switch to speak, he derisively warns of Mouse's impending
comments. Switch, with a subaltern smirk, refers to him as "the digital pimp, hard at work."
Young Tank shakes his head dismissively and rudely pulls Mousešs hand away from one of the
computer monitors. Even in multicultural Zion, the viral principle of hegemony is seen to
be in effect. Like "a pair of ragged claws, scuttling across floors of silent seas," the
apparition of anti-Semitism broods upon the face of these waters. As the Waffen SS officer
prudently indoctrinated Oskar Schindler, "That's not just good old-fashioned Jew-hating
talk, it's policy." It appears that some of the members of the oppressed minority "free
minds" on board the Nebuchadnezzer would benefit if they took a page from the "sensitivity
training" manual which is forced on real-world American society. The latter crew members
pretty much ignore Mouse. It is as if he does not exist to them. So much for non-judgmental
egalitarianism and inclusion.
X
The preceding, however, is elementary theory. America is so inured to those Marxist "first
principles" of doctrine that they no longer elicit any recognition response. The didactic
of multicultural theory has been thoroughly inculcated in most of the youth of America.
MTV has seen to that. Images of interracial couples are repeatedly transmitted to millions
of homes, twenty-four hours a day. Television commercials would have viewers believe that
there are more than fifteen percent of the population who are black if you believe the
ratios presented continually. Theatrical releases and series on television depict
increasing numbers of interracial dating, co-habitation, marriage and births. Christians
have been subjected to an unending cavalcade of guilt factors as to why they are bound by
and "owe" inclusion to every group, faction and freak that can crawl out from under the
rock where they were hiding. Gramsci stated in his expansion of the theories of Karl Marx
that from a social perspective, should a group challenge long-standing traditions and
social structures, it is necessary that said group must "never tire of repeating its own
arguments [though offering literary variations of form]," because "repetition is the best
didactic means for working on the popular mentality." It is obvious to even the casual
observer that this principle has been and continues to be applied with great success, at
all levels and in all institutions of our society. This is Marxism camouflaged as
MULTICULTURALISM. And who can reject this "moral high ground"? Only evil racists and/or
Nazis. Consequently, only the cultural Marxists and those who accept their doctrine have
the moral right to rule. It was clearly stated by Neo, when he was interrogated by the
Agents of the Matrix, who he (and by extension the "insiders" and you the viewers) was
dealing with when he told Agent Smith, "You can't scare me with this Gestapo crap, I know
my rights. I want my phone call." With the turn of a well-recognized phrase, it becomes
extremely clear just whom the insider-Zionists are fighting. It is not just tyranny they
resist, nor do they fight simply for the freedom to direct their lives -- No! It is
NEO-NAZIS they have taken up arms to kill! Another irony for such a non-judgmental group,
and easily explained. You see, the morally degenerate Agents, these Neo-Nazis, are the
ones who keep the concentration camp-like fields of the Matrix, which extend from heaven to
horizon, full. They are the ones who through genetic engineering clone and keep in chains
the "workers" of the Matrix world. These oblivious victims are chained by the bondage of
ignorance. The Neo-Nazis are the slave masters, the self appointed SUPER RACE! They are
the ones the Zionists are willing to fight, even if it means their own death. Which raises
still another interesting, though surely unintentional, irony. Keep in mind, the Marxist
mindset must be retained. Jews, who remained in Europe for whatever reason, could have
exhibited the same courage to defend themselves as that displayed by these fictional
characters. But the Jews behind the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, in which several thousand Jews
stalled the Waffen SS for four weeks, are the exception, not the rule. Does the phrase,
"Workers of the world, unite" sound familiar? Had the pious, self-righteous Jews not
expected someone else to do something, to dirty their hands for them -- people they
considered themselves "above" -- the world would not be pummeled daily with the
hand-wringing, wailing and emotional blackmail endured at the hands of professional guilt
extortionists that make up the ranks of the Anti-Defamation League, the Simon Wiesenthal
Center and the Jewish Defense League. Not to mention, Morris Dees, who through his
Southern Poverty Law Center has elevated these tactics to a litigious art form.
XI
When art imitates life, it can be humorous; when life imitates art, irony notwithstanding,
the result can be painful parody. And it is usually at the expense of the characters and
the real people they represent. It all hinges upon who is being ridiculed and who is doing
the laughing. With the identity of the enemy clear, the solution to the confusion Neo had
been experiencing up to this point, (the answers Morpheus comforted him were coming), is
now to be made clear through the person of the Oracle. This Black woman will give Neo the
answers he needs because, as Trinity cooed, "The Matrix can't tell you who you are." No,
it will require the insight of a Black Priestess of the occult to supply that necessary
adjunct to his identity and to assist in his spiritual growth. One who is not only
prescient but also Aunt Jemima. It seems the Oracle seconds as a baker to help unsuccessful
"potentials" over the hump of disappointment with her homemade cookies. Irony piles upon
irony, as a polemic against tyranny, which traditionally assumes the form of stereotypes,
subjects its own characters to that very indignity via old racial oversimplifications of
"black mojo" and voodoo mysticism posed as Black wisdom. "Say ahhh" "Oh, but what's
really going to bake your noodle," as the Oracle wryly commented, is that Aunt Jemima lives
in the graffiti-defaced projects! Or Morpheus, as a Black variant of the drug-pushing Door
Mouse from Lewis Carroll's Alice Through the Looking Glass. Proffering "the red pill or
the blue pill," he tempts Neo with a psychedelic paraphrase of "Feed your head."
Unintentional humor, regardless of whose expense it is at, is always a welcome pleasure.
But what if it is not actually so unwitting? Hollywood has a surreptitiously nasty habit of
using individuals and groups it superficially champions as "fall guys" for the pie in the
puss without their having an inkling that it is banana cream dripping from their face.
These groups are a diverse lot, if you will. American History X offers a prime
example. In an ulterior manner, this film argues against its premise of anti-racism by
making telling points which oppose the viability of Blacks and other minorities as
oppressed enclaves in our nation. Either the screenwriter and director were seriously
imperceptive, were making thoughtless insinuations or they were deliberate in their
depictions of "ghetto blacks," "illegal aliens" and "welfare recipients" as leeches on the
American infrastructure. Inadvertent humor, innuendo, sub-themes and sub-text are only
"stated" as unforeseen for a naīve, unthinking or deliberately obtuse public. Gore Vidal,
et al., look down their snotty, intellectual noses at the heterosexual world in the
"mockumentary" film, The Celluloid Closet. Animators laughed up their dirty little
sleeves as innocent children and unsuspecting adults were subjected to gratuitous, obscene,
sexual messages that were subliminally interjected into the visual text of Hollywood's
version of "family" films. Phallic symbols appeared as part of the castle interior in The
Little Mermaid. A skywritten message stating "have sex" is smeared across The Lion
King firmament, like so much stellar feculent. Directors will not risk their reputations
in so tenuous a world as the film industry, nor will studio conglomerates and producers
risk MILLIONS of dollars on unideaed, effete Auteurs.
XII
And neither did the Wachowskis, the slippery, window-washing brothers who directed Warner
Brothers' polemic, The Matrix. They have Trinity soothingly coach Neo that the
Oracle's information is "different." Morpheus sagely tutors the now unplugged and reborn
Neo not to think of the Oracle's Delphic sagacity in such reactionary terms as, "right or
wrong." Good advice, he needs to have a firm grip on some perspective, especially
considering what is about to be passed on to him. "You see," as Spoon Boy tells the
fledgling warrior in Zen-speak, "Do not try and bend the spoon, that's impossible." With a
sagely frown, the little master instructs Neo, "Instead, only try to realize the truth."
And what is this esoteric truth? Why itšs, "There is no spoon," silly! Through this
realization, summates the quiescent prodigy, "[You] will see that it is not the spoon that
bends, it is only yourself." Whoa! Orwell had nothing on this kid! Armed with that
tidbit of Buddhist pagan morology, our neo-lad sallies forth, munching Aunt Jemima's tasty
pastry and feeling, "right as rain." Hopefully, this little snack has cleared Neo's mental
and spiritual palate because things are about to go from the absurd, philosophically speaking,
to the deadly serious. Morpheus is taken prisoner and Neo must transcend himself. He is
about to learn the "difference between knowing the path and walking it!" Utilizing his
newfound, "There is no spoon" super-power, Neo and Trinity proceed to liberate their Black
"father." Abraham Lincoln would be proud. Before proceeding to the exciting manumission,
some additional character development is in order for one of the crew.
XIII
Remember Cipher, the white male of the shaved head who aroused earlier suspicions? Well,
they were justified. The explicit image of a skinhead, and all the implicit sub-text
baggage that goes with it, was deliberate. So were his lustful, behind-the-back glances at
Trinity. This little man is not only a potential date-rapist, he is also a turncoat! A
double agent of sorts. Which is worse? A hard call to make for a group that saved him from
the "slavery of ignorance." Cipher himself will provide the salve to assuage any guilt for
loathing him by becoming a cyber-Cain. Mr. Reagan, Cipher's Matrix "slave name," has "cut
a deal" with Agent Smith. In exchange for the apprehension and arrest of Morpheus, Mr.
Reagan will be reinserted into the Matrix. He will remember nothing of the late
unpleasantness, and become someone "important" -- an actor. You were warned of these
inside jokes. In his own defense, Cipher weakly pleads with Trinity not to hate him, for,
as he reflects, "I'm only the messenger." While this is, on one level, an allusion to the
media admonition that they only "report" the news, it is a charge against Cipher's
character and that of the media; a moot point concerning the media. In essence, he is
saying, "I was only doing my job. I was only following orders." That dismissive carries
no legal exculpatory weight with his Matrix "overlords" and it leaves him with no
affirmative defense among the insiders. Of course, if he were an agent of the Federal
Government, or even one of its "confidential informants," then that would put a different
"spin" on the matter. Mercifully, he could be allowed to perform public service
engagements at the Wiesenthal Center, speaking out against the evil of whatever. To his
own detriment, he instead chooses to savor the ersatz ignorance of the Matrix. Bad call.
He has blissed his pants, is exposed, not only as spiritually soiled but as an unrepentant
reprobate to boot! In the court of public opinion, which is tried in the streets by the
media, skinhead Cipher is found wanting and therefore guilty. His punishment? Execute him
twice! The media also, while we're at it? Please!?
XIV
Meanwhile, back at the gulag, Agent Smith is attempting to "hack" into the mind of
Morpheus. During this interlude, more and more of the heinous personal attitudes of the
menacing Agent are revealed. Smith intimates, in a wonderfully psychotic attempt at charm
and disarming small talk, a Damascus road revelation he experienced while tracking the
insiders. As he states it, with an exquisite malevolence:
It occurred when I was trying to classify your species. You are not actually mammals.
Every mammal develops a natural equilibrium," he says while gently padding the air
in front of him for effect. "But you humans do not. You move to an area and multiply
and multiply until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive,
is to spread to another area.
Smith's epiphany tantalizingly brushes the edges of his disdain. Is he blaspheming the
holy mantra that only the Red Man is elevated enough to have "developed a natural
equilibrium with the surrounding environment"? He must be, for he has included his race in
the collective of "humans," and by some standards they are a member of this species. This
Neo-Nazi has turned on its head decades of painstaking indoctrination. Every school child
has it hammered into his impressionable mind that it is only racist, land-raping
capitalistic Whites who "multiply until every natural resource is consumed." Manifest
Destiny and the westward exploration and expansion by white Americans, are twisted in
classrooms into an unrecognizable indictment against the progression of white settlers.
White market-hunters, they are reminded, nearly caused the extinction of the Buffalo.
Greedy, white, gold-mad exploiters drove the Red Man from his prairie Eden. White
mountain-men nearly trapped into oblivion all the fur-bearing creatures in the forests.
But what the film's underdog, the oppressed multiculturalists, do not tell the receptors of
the propagandized message, is a little thing called the truth. If the historical record is
investigated with even a modicum of care, it becomes evident that the Red Man was the one
responsible for the consumption of "every natural resource" until he had to "spread to
another area." His lifestyle forced him to. Indians lived in tepees for ease of
mobility. It was their nature-raping ways that required a nomadic lifestyle. With no game
conservation programs, the wildlife around their villages was "hunted out." Any credit
for "controlled" burns of forest or grasslands, as a means to entice the return of game
animals, was a matter of "too little, too late." Some of the tribes that were semi-agrarian,
lived in rudimentary huts or cliff dwellings. They, too, were eventually forced to move
after depleting soil nutrients by planting the same one or two crop staples repeatedly.
Hence, the majority of the tribes lived as vagabonds. It is far-sighted, white
hunter-conservationists who have returned the American Buffalo to stable herd sizes that
flourish and are re-breeding to their original numbers. White ranchers and farmers are
cross breeding cattle and Buffalo for their sweet, finely textured Beeffalo meat. Crop
rotation and fertilizing techniques keep soil vital and productive. White trappers
incorporate principles of game management for fur-bearing animals and these creatures
repopulate the timberlands in balanced harmony. Were the Redskins truly the mystical,
"at-one-with-the-earth" naturalists the media would have you believe, why did they not
devise these programs themselves? As befits a people with no written language, Indian
practices were simply imitation, not innovative conservation. They were users and takers,
not givers and creators. For a more detailed accounting of the true nature of the "noble
savage," consult William Brandon's Indians; or, Oregon Trail and The Conspiracy
of Pontiac, by Francis Parkman and The Dispossession of the American Indian and
Other Key Issues in American History, by Hoffman. No amount of "rain-dancing" will
change these facts.
XV
And no amount of dancing around an issue has prevailed for Agent Smith. With patience
exhausted, his measured control breaks down and the true engine, which drives an inner,
seething disgust is made manifest. Speaking to his handcuffed, helpless and tortured Black
victim, any remaining veneer of civility peels away from Agent Smith as he spits, "I can
taste your stink, and every time I do, I fear I have been infected by it!" Without pausing
for a breath, he continues, "I loathe this zoo, this prison" Concluding, he reluctantly
wipes sweat from the brow of the embattled Morpheus and unequivocally adds the final insult
while forcing his tainted fingers into the victim's nose; "It's the SMELL! It's REPULSIVE,
isn't it!" With classic visual images and verbal signifiers straight from the heart of
the "Jim Crow" South, Smith's mask falls away. At last, as close to the truth as we will
get from him, the Centian Agent's racism is laid bare. The only insult he didn't include
was, "I hate you fucking niggers!" There are, after all, certain standards of gentility in
a polite society. One need not be uncouth or profane, foul language of the insiders and
their elision comments aside, to make a point. Even with the absence of the ultimate
racial slur, which would cause the hair on the back of any self-respecting liberal's neck
to stand on end from self-righteous outrage, it would come as no surprise if an audience
might rise en masse and shout, "Agent Smith's initials actually stand for ADOLPH
SCHICKLGRUBER! Or at least, David Duke!"
XVI
An earlier racial elliptic acerbically spoken by Black Morpheus to the Fuhrer Agent, "You
all look the same to me!" can be overlooked. Intended as reverse ironic humor and
considered by apologists as excusable when contrasted to four hundred years of white racism
and oppression, the good Captain's oblique is a veritable "tempest in a teapot." A
question centered on those centuries is raised, in spite of this. As Derek Vinyard, the
Neo-Nazi in American History X, puzzled, "How long does it take to get your act
together?" But one must not ask impolitic questions. Morpheus can still be forgiven,
though. He is, after all, only human. Which is a greater dignity than that afforded Agent
Shicklgruber, ah, Agent Smith. Centian Agents are not human, that is! They are not even
real. They are cyber-programs; electron "straw-men." These virtual whipping boys are the
construct of government controlled media propagandists, manipulated as cyber-terrorists so
as to dehumanize and vilify them in the unconscious of the sheeple. Curious, isn't it, how
this objectifying technique which allows the audience to hate and vicariously murder these
"things" and at the same time be released from any moral culpability or guilt, is an
accusation the new left constantly throws in the face of those who dare disagree with them?
But not to worry, once again Black wisdom supplies the necessary cathartic absolution and
moral compass as a literary escape from this ethical dead-end into which the scriptwriter
has led us. Morpheus simplifies the equation and removes those impaled on the iniquitous
horns of this dilemma by succinctly and definitively stating to Neo, "If you are not one of
us, you are one of them." That settles it, there are in fact, some absolutes. Morpheus
said so! It only requires the relativists to dictate the terms! How convenient, how
tidy. Nothing like playing with a stacked and "Marxed" deck. With those soft-spoken
words, he restores didactic and emotional harmony. The resonance of his imperious,
egocentric conclusion, however, is off key and intones a muted note, which is somehow,
glacially chilling! Keep it in mind.
XVII
At a tropically opposite meridian of cause and effect, Neo and Trinity, the neo-Adam and
neo-Eve of Zion, have managed to cyberretically kick major virtual ass, and to bond.
Through circumstances generated by the crucible of battle, the two physically embrace, save
each other's lives, then ultimately free Morpheus from Agent (Shicklgruber) Smith (hmmm, an
unwitting anagram; self-deprecation. Who said only Democrats have a sense of humor). But
the best is yet to come. Emotions are fanned to fusionable levels as the sadistic Smith
assassinates Neo, at point blank range. WHOA SQUARED! How can this be? Neo is supposed
to be "THE ONE"! Morpheus is going to be crushed. Thank the Maker for heroines! Trinity,
now a practiced student of faith, via edifying circumstantial trials and tribulations,
springs full blown among the New World demi-gods; this is an egalitarian order, Comrade.
In a blasphemous re-enactment of the breath of life being breathed into his nostrils,
Trinity, our Xena, warrior- princess turned mother-creator, resurrects the fallen Neo
through the power of her goddess kiss. He is RE-reborn (in direct contradiction of
scripture); this time HARD! Fully apotheosized, Neo becomes the first fully functional,
THE ONE! The Oracle, for all her homespun simplicity has vindicated the faith of the
believers. Oh happy day for the insiders! Woe, Woe, Woe unto the Agents and the Matrix!
Neo dispatches Agent Smith with a remote, dispassionate, almost distracted ease. The
remaining two Agents flee in terror-driven haste, and Neo, after this reality-bending
display of techno-telekinetic, martial-artistic, Zen bullsplatter, rejoins his goddess-queen
and Morpheus. It can be assumed that they will now prowl the Matrix as a humanist
menage-a-trois, freeing test-tube humans and sending the Neo-Nazi agents to
cyber-hell, with their cyber-Führer! There is one thing left to do. Notice,
or warning, if you insist, must be given.
XVIII
Neo-Superman dials in to the matrix. The Agents are unable to come to the phone, DUUHH!,
so he leaves a message on their answering machine. It follows verbatim:
I know you're out there. I can feel you now. I know that you're afraid. You're afraid
of us.
You're afraid of change. I don't know the future. I didn't come here to tell you how this
is going to end. I came here to tell you how it's going to begin. I'm going to hang up
this phone and then I'm going to show these people what you don't want them to see. I'm
going to show them a world without you. A world without rules and controls, without
borders or boundaries. A world, where anything is possible. Where we go from there, is a
choice I leave to you.
How magnanimous of his Neo-majesty! As Bob Dylan said, "You don't need a weatherman to
know which way the wind blows." Neither does one need the Oracle to understand to whom Neo
is speaking. This understated declaration of war was issued straight from the Ministry of
Multiculturalism by the high priests, in a spasm of nocturnal fantasy. It is directed at
the Neo-Nazis of "artificial intelligence" (Also known as, Aryan Intelligence/Aryan
Influence), or anyone else who doesn't, as Cipher so eloquently phrased the matter, "buy
into Morpheus' bullshit!" The multicultural insiders are telling Neo-Nazi, White
Nationalists, or anyone else, that if you resist the new programming language and scenario,
the one "without borders or boundaries," then you, me, all of us, like the Agents of the
Matrix, the "Agents of Repression," will be eliminated. The so-called "progressive forces"
leave us with an offer. A redacted offer, yet it is none the less clear as a result. The
offer is the same as that ultimatum given three young men several millenium ago by King
Nebuchadnezzer. Bow down to the golden statue and follow the rest of the subjects in
obeisance. Should you choose not to obey the edict and not prostrate yourself when the
trumpets sound, you will be thrown into the furnace heated seven times hotter, experiencing
the fury of the king's rage. The insiders offer the demi-god of multiculturalism for
worship. Fealty is the price to spare your life. A time will come when, as the book of
Revelation makes clear, the dilemma will be one of being branded like a herd animal and
receiving the mark of ownership, 666, or not. Can there be any doubt as to what your
choice must be? It will be a choice another group of "insiders" will "leave to you." Such
is classic Marxist theory -- thesis/antithesis/synthesis. A proposition is offered. This,
in turn creates a conflict between the proposal and those to whom it is presented. The
party receiving the offer, accepting it as a compromise, can achieve the resolution to that
conflict. The advantage, however, always lies with the group proposing the adulteration,
not with those who accept it. This is not a message of peaceful conciliation. It is not
one of co-existence and integration. It is a message of hubris and domination! Accede, or
pay the consequences. The insiders' vision, their "solution" to the conflict, is one of
Utopian hegemony. Utopia, however is derived from the Greek root words meaning, "no
where"! No where, as in a mirage. Not only is their vision chimerical, this eidolon of
romanticized fancy has occluded the insiders' perspective and they have overlooked their
own dictum. The presumptive maxim, "A world without rules and controls" That warning cuts
two ways. Rise above their lying, timid morality. Then we will see about that world
"without". . .whom? Truly, in their own words, life, like "Fate, it seems, is not without
a sense of irony!"
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