Mouse-Trap: Matrix of Thoughtfulness

A Story by Abishai100

Fan-adaptation of the iconic sci-fi dystopia mega franchise (Matrix) of expressions of civilizations walls/machinery theses.

A bright end-of-Summer (epic/rich) adaptation of that iconic machinery-dystopia paranoia-Jabberwocky franchise/series The Matrix, which I think you'll like (and thanks so much for reading!),

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I want to share with you my special dystopian nightmare, wrought forms of imagery in my darkened brain/mind from readings in school, works of folks like Herbert Asbury and James O'Barr and Ken Kesey; and I felt (actually) moved to think of special forms of dystopian landscapes or 'environments' of illusory mazes and walls with doors and rooms without windows, a sort of labyrinth of (manmade?) choice-IQ driven self-aggrandizement (or shrink!). I took my white vintage auto focus on a cross-country journey to explore how I felt about all this actually (Selfie-like).

I'm an Algerian-American Bostonian-Catholic writer and post-Ivy grad and made about $15M on Wall-St. during the 2009 mini-crash (Ford) and took my auto focus to the streets, traveling across Target stores and trying on outfits to match my incomplete-readings Selfie-age of fashion and street-lifestyle 'linked' capitalism race meta-consciousness for social net activity comment (ha). However, what I was really after was the Matrix, my self-conceived dystopia-labyrinth 'feeling' of some illusory invisible super world of shimmering trees and walls that surrounded our living visible real-world. The Matrix was 'governed' somehow by what I somehow sensed were invisible 'watch-men' in suits and ties, but they weren't invisible. These sentinels of the Matrix 'system' were moving in-and-out of our real/visible 'overground' world, watching us. That's what I came up with 'helmeted' for my Target-stops and Selfie-culture citizenry views.

SENTINEL: Do you know any verse about dystopian languages for steroids, man?
ME: You're in a business-suit in this flower-tree path in SanFran inquiring this?

SENTINEL: As you can see, man, I'm curious about your 'dystopian' demeanor, ok?

ME: Are you implying you walk to a stranger thinking he's thinking chemistry?

SENTINEL: I'm just like you, man...no different...curious about your vitality-IQ?

ME: Are you part of the Matrix?

SENTINEL: What...Selfie-chemistry allusion?

ME: Just thinking?

After 'chatting' with this stranger in suit in Cali, I became certain he was a sentinel-in-suit, an agent of the Matrix super/invisible system, watching us, like others like him (wow). I didn't know what to do/think, but I knew I wanted to 'catch' this super theory in a storyboard about inventions in incomplete-distances readings to the weaponry of self-consciousness self-defense in Selfie/traffic culture...simply for good humor (ha).

I decided to get a SimCity game and practiced that lost art of civilization record-keeping for simplified journal-laughter, the kind we'd seen in the days of Thomas Nast and stuff. This game was really great; it reinforced my Selfie-languages of social spaces/walls erections for leviathan/uncertainty/capitalism, and I wanted to engage with one of these 'watch-men' of the Matrix, the sentinels who guarded the secret of that invisible super system, if only to inquire of that midways-bread of infrastructure and changelings for the Ego (sure).

Friends, this image-rich story I now cast about this invisible super system called the Matrix is really real! It's invisible and it's super and it's darkly or eerily mysterious. Who were these 'watch-men' who had been simply watching us, not as angels of God but as suited bureaucracy-recorders of our erected world/cities, perchance to cast themselves as drone-like witnesses of the proceedings of our ant-like field goals for photo-synthesis (or uncertainty!).

SENTINEL: You're on a quest, in this construction-site created city-smoke, eh?

ME: Are you of the Matrix?
SENTINEL: What's it, man?
ME: Me thinks you make 'mark' of me as a dystopia-write leprechaun, Sentinel.

SENTINEL: Are you a rebel, man?
ME: If I am...I'll make for 'discovery' for the fashion of capitalist arms, Sentinel.

SENTINEL: Ha...maybe (for the Ego).

There I was in a Vegas-hospitality area enjoying cocktail-shrimp (yum) when I was asked by a waitress if I wanted to accept a drink-offer from a man from another table, in suit-and-tie, who seemed to want to compliment me for my 'sharp' look as a journal-writing seafood-diner in that city of fortunes/games/daydreams/vanity. I accepted the drink, but I knew almost surely the gifter was a Sentinel, a watch-man of the Matrix, eyeing my consumerism/tourist brain (damn!).

SENTINEL: Are you with arms?

ME: I've a water-gun, Sentinel.

SENTINEL: You think me some capitalist-fool person (in suit).

ME: Well, you're here in this lovely park, in suit on a Sunday, Sentinel (sure).

SENTINEL: Maybe your water-gun is loaded with acid, man?

ME: The world's ours for the critique/fashion/theater, surely.

SENTINEL: Facebook-like?

While at an iconic New England college campus computer conference during this 'Matrix-examination' cross-country journey of mine this year, I found a very beautiful see-through computer mouse, a trophy of computerization and industry and bureaucracy; and I honestly wondered if it was somehow an 'after-effect image' of the Matrix, of its tendrils of super wall like watch-men view for our human-realm civilization creature-meanderings of the 'religious' ores (hmmm).

CONFERENCE VISITOR: An electronic Rube-Goldberg, man?
ME: I guess I wanted some youthful rep of causation for civilization walls/vanity!

CONFERENCE VISITOR: Are you versed in the knowledge of the Matrix, man?
ME: What did you ask me, sir?

CONFERENCE VISITOR: If you know of what I speak, continue your electro-image.

ME: Thanx (Selfie-like).

What did that science conference visitor in New England know? Why and how did he use the "Matrix" term of my interest(s)...clearly? I had to think of this oddity-exchange while inside a store, trying on an outfit, in the fitting-room, thinking of Selfie/consumerism culture vanities and the odd stranger-like feeling of wandering through capitalism/fare rich Earth as a 'witness' of its lifestyle bread/fruit/uncertainties/cleats (wow).

SENTINEL: Who's this neo-classic thinker of our hallucinated walls, you think?
SENTINEL: He needs some reinventive acid-gun consciousness for humility, yes?

SENTINEL: The Matrix is forever that 'qualia' castle...and only for us?

SENTINEL: Perchance also for this dystopia-thrift writer prince, no?