Surely, the Wachowski brothers had an completely different agenda when they produced the trilogy of movies that encompass "The Matrix" but, as I reflect upon the general theme of the movies, I cannot help but think about our contemporary America. Mind you, not as the Wachowskis intended (being a typical left-wing, liberal Hollywood paean to subversion, anti-establishmentism and revolution), but with a 180 degree spin on the matter at hand. The similarities are too great, the plot too disquieting and the realities all too, well, real, to not take a stab at offering a small commentary.

Lord Knows, I am late to this particular party. Many hefty tomes have been written, each author expressing their, often times, droll stock shlock about socialism versus capitalism and the like, interpretations of the movies which enjoyed phenomenal success among movie-goers worldwide. And, yet, the movies give the more reflective observer of modern-day America pause and sufficient reason to espouse on just where life in this Republic is steering and what may lie just over the hazy, not-too-distant horizon.

I will be as brief as possible in describing (for those half-dozen or so readers who have not seen any one of the movies) what the cinematic trilogy actually depicted. After all, together, the 3 celluloids totaled nearly ten hours of "entertainment". But it is imperative that anyone who writes on the subject make sure he is not leaving anyone behind when it comes time to make his point. And, so, I will outline, as succinctly as my meager talents permit, what the movies were about and, finally, what lessons they may hold for us, in modern terms.

"The Matrix" trilogy centers around the idea that our "lives" are only dream states concocted by machines and fed, digitally to our brains, by cables and, I assume, HDTV-quality pixelation. These visions give humanity a mental facsimile of existing in a social milieu (after all, Socrates tells us man is a social animal). Apparently, we need a sense of purpose and human interaction in order to survive, even in a vegetative state. We are grown, from infancy, in pods - wired into the matrix - providing energy (in the form of bioelectricity) to run the machinery and the artificial intelligence that directs it. It feeds us our own personal virtual reality (one vicariously lives the life of a fireman or an accountant or whatever) and we, symbiotically, provide it with the power to generate imagery and, coincidently, build weapons and protect the Matrix. The matrix is the ultimate conquest of machines over mankind because we really don’t even know we have been conquered and are living as alkaline batteries. The machines rule the world and have proceeded to blight the devastated landscape with "crops" of humans who are kept in a state of suspended animation. The captives "believe" they are living normal lives but, in truth, they are merely a crop - providing not just the power for the matrix but food (I won’t elaborate on that in the interest of decorum) for our fellow captive humans.

As in all good action movies, there is a rebellion afoot. Some - born outside the matrix or rescued from it - actually do live outside the machine. Near the earth’s core, they inhabit a mythical sanctuary, unfortunately (in my opinion) called "Zion". Here the rebels fight against the matrix and hold out against the constant threat of annihilation. They also throw some pretty raucous parties that resemble a cross between a rave and Bill Clinton’s bachelor party if held at the Playboy Mansion.

The elite of the rebels can actually move between the desolation of earth and the virtual reality of the matrix. In doing so, they actually accomplish little other than let the machine know that a resistance exists and, in the process, get to slip into some really fashionable leather apparel and perform some astounding physical maneuvers (like flying, walking up walls, leaping across city streets, dodging bullets, and the like) that are impossible in the "real world". It’s like inserting yourself into a video game and, once you can condition your brain to ignore what your senses are telling you, anything becomes possible. As Morpheus (the old bull) tells Neo (the young bull), "Free your mind!"

But, after the comic book sojourn ends, and you "unplug" from the matrix, you are back to the unglamourous subsistence of what actually exists. Your diet consists of something that looks like gruel, your clothes are tattered and full of holes, and you sleep on hard beds in an incandescently-lit hovel. Reality is a cruel and stark contrast to the glamorous world of fantasy offered within the matrix.

All of which brings me (as the applause builds) to the whole point of all this diatribe: If there has ever been a time when art imitates life, I am lately convinced that we are in it. If we shuffle a few aspects of the movie, we have - for all practical purposes - a sobering view of modern life. We have arrived at the ominous point in the brief (and getting ever briefer) history of our Republic where the matrix has virtually taken over.

I certainly don’t mean to suggest, in the sense of the movies, that we are all merely living in pods and a giant computer controls our environment and uses us like batteries, literally, to power the machine. But, in more subtle ways, one could interpret The Matrix trilogy to be a perfect commentary on modern American life.

Think about it. Most of us ghost-walk through our work days, acutely aware of all our aches, pains, imperfections and the unrelenting advance of age. We are, most of us, bored with the "real world": overbearing bosses, nosey coworkers, long commutes and traffic jams, low pay and financial shortfalls, foreclosures and the threat of unemployment, disrespectful children and housework. We stumble, semiconsciously, through the workday and, arrive home (our pods) and look forward to plugging ourselves into, metaphorically-speaking, into our version of the matrix. We crave the deadening, mindless, thoughtless visions that flicker across our televisions and, in the process, transport us to a virtual world where beautiful people do exotic things and are applauded and admired. Which is to say, a world which we can never inhabit but one that distracts us from the realities of our world outside "the matrix".

If one carries the analogy a step or two further (and it is not entirely difficult), one can imagine that this is just where the government wants us to be. If I were a "conspiracy theorist" - which I am truly not - one could almost formulate a Hollywood-Washington cabal whose sinister purpose is to keep the public distracted by progressively dumbed-down "entertainment" so that the matrix...I mean...er....ah...government can go about their plundering of the nation without so much as a whimper from John Q. Public.

In my view, if such a plan were in effect, it is working flawlessly. Between the neuro-toxic flood of "reality TV" (which assumes special meaning in this context) and the violence, sex, drugs, nudity and profanity that has crept into commercial broadcasts, appealing as they do to the hindbrain of Homo sapiens, our lives, our thoughts and our dwindling brains are focused on what happened the night before on our favorite shows. We seemingly care more about the vote count on American Idol, Dancing With the Stars and Survivor: Wherever than we do about the bacchanalian pirates inhabiting Washington, D.C. We sit, benumbed and besotted while our nation crumbles before the eyes of the world. We may not know exactly where the almost-trillion dollar bailout money is going (or why it was approved in the first place), but we can recite, chapter and verse, what no-talent made it into the next round or what degrading acts of human depravity our favorite television drama depicted the previous evening. Such is life in the matrix that is our American pop culture.

In the halcyon days when there were only three broadcast channels, people actually left their pods and went outside. They talked with their neighbors about the world about them. We asked each other questions - actually vocalizing and not text-messaging. What do you think about Senator Smith and how the government is doing? How’s your job going? How are the kids and has little Mary’s front tooth grown back in yet? Your lawnmower is broken? Let’s go take a look at it! This, in the days of iron men and wooden ships, was called "conversation" and not typing was required. We had a sense of neighborhood and community. We cared for each other and, most of all, we cared about the direction our nation was headed. [Pop Quiz: Name the family members of the houses or apartments on each side of your dwelling. Extra credit: Name the family members directly across from you. The prosecution rests.]

We have, sadly, devolved today into pod-dwellers. We have imposed our own matrix, locked away from the harshness of the real world and magically transported into our own virtual realities. Worse, we are addicted to Never Never Land and our imaginations have dropped anchor. We perpetually seek what we can never have and hunger, furtively, to be who we can never be. All the while, the malevolent matrix along the Potomac churns and we remain, in the words of Pink Floyd, "comfortably numb". In fact, at the risk of time stamping my forehead with its "Best If Sold Before" date, sing the first verse:

Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

I think, sadly, not.