I Sing a Song of the Matrix
I was reading Leaves of Grass, and I came to a passage where Whitman ponders the possibility that nothing is real. I imagine everybody has had the same thought at one point or another. What if reality is entirely inside my head?
And that led me, by free association, to contemplate The Matrix. Could the machines rising up and enslaving us be a metaphor for something that's already happening? I realized that I sat in front of the computer all the daylight hours working today, and here I am during my free time. It wouldn't be that hard to bridge across my remaining non-computer time with an Ipod or a video game console. That would leave maybe an hour and a half when I was getting dressed, eating, or showering that I'm not actually plugged in. I would say the machines have me pretty much locked up.
Leaves of Grass celebrates exactly the opposite. So many depictions of The Common Man, tilling a field or building a house, doing something organic and real. If I could make a movie like The Matrix, I would have a Walt Whitman character. He would look sort of like God on The Simpson, and he would take over Laurense Fishbourn's (did I spell that right? I always mess up his name) role. He would hand you a little green pill, and it would bust you out of the 21st century and drop you in the middle of a Bob Ross painting.
To conclude, please type Bob Ross Painting in Google, without the quotes. Click 'I'm Feeling Lucky', and indeed, luck will reward you.  ¶ 10:51 PM