The Matrix was a movie released on 33-11-999, or as more commonly formatted (in the USA), 3-31-1999. In the 14 years since it's debut it has become one of the most influential cultural icons of any generation, not only here in America but throughout much of the globe. Everyone, at least those ones in Western sphere societies, somehow, can readily identify with it. I wonder why?
No, I don't. I know exactly why. The Matrix was an urgent tap on the shoulder of ones who slumbered for too long. It was Neo's alarm clock going off after he had spent the night chasing the White Rabbit. It itself was a Red Pill, subliminal and subconsciously delivered, setting us on a collision course towards a wakeful state.
On 9-11-2001, WTC #1 and #2 were offered to Americans as the Red Pill and the Blue Pill. Except there was no choice: we were force-fed the Blue Pill, a concoction of Prozac, Viagra, Extenz, and Meth. A review of our history from that choreographed day to now reveals all too plainly the grotesque tragedy of America the Empire as it played out towards its predictably inevitable demise. Today, America is a mere rumor of what was once upon a time a respected nation of common statesmen and country scholars; the land of the free and home of the brave. Oh, what a sad irony those words now elicit.
So here it is on a 13 date, and it's 11:55 as I glance at the clock on my computer. This day is a long one in coming. I asked Tyler to let me blog on Zero Hedge over a year ago. I wanted to begin spreading a word, a gospel--the Gospel of Chumba. Perhaps I am an arrogant man. Or perhaps I see what is happening today as Biblical in proportions. The Sequle, as it were, being written before our very eyes. We are witness to the next aeon of history; the year zero. It is begun again.
I know, I know, none of this makes any sense whatsoever. Chumba's a douche, and Tyler's a fag for letting him on here to spew this horse shit. My response to you is: patience, brother. Patience. This is a process. First, we need to open your eyes, but it must be done slowly. The first actual rays of real light shining into your pupils are going to be overwhelming and painful. This is normal. You will be dazed and confused, cognitively dissonant. I am going to blow your mind, and you will not like it one bit. But you will thank me for it later. You're welcome.
To begin this journey, you must awaken within the dream, before you can awaken out of it. So follow the white rabbit. Don't worry about over-sleeping and being late for work. You're soon to find out your job or career or whatever is irrelevant anyway, once you come to the realization that modern society is merely the modern day equivalent of the Colonial American slave plantation, just with benefits like a corner office and vacation time. It's an elaborate stage performance put on to convince you that you're free, and everyone is a player in the charade, too doped up to realize what they're watching in the TV is themselves. A caricature for sure, but ourselves nonetheless, a carnival house reflection of what we have become.
But the crazy dream, it ends now. Wakey wakey. There is work to do.
I am Chumbawamba.