Are We Living in the Matrix?

Unfortunately, it’s much worse than that.

James Edward Taylor

Aug 31, 2024

I want you to meet my pal, Neo.

Handsome fella, right?

And he’s clever, too. Super clever.

He likes to tell me things like:

“Nothing is real, dude.”

“Everything is a lie.”

“We’re living in a sim, bro.”

That sort of thing.

Basically, “reality” as you know it is a big dream. A grand illusion. An undigested bit of beef, a fragment of underdone potato.

And Neo’s not alone. There are some other super clever folks out there who agree. Like Elon Musk.

Joe Rogan sure thinks we’re living in the Matrix.

And it’s hard to argue with these guys.

When we consider what’s passing for reality these days—the absurd, fake, moronic, nonsensical, insidious, manipulative, propagandistic nightmare fiction we’re being told is reality—anyone capable of firing more than a single synapse is like to agree with my friend Neo.

In Pretendy Land…

…we pretend biological men need lactation consultants because their bodies can have babies (even though the sum total times that has happened in the history of the species is zero);

…we pretend that bringing your newborn to the doctor to get systematically poisoned is a “well baby visit”;

…we pretend that using the actual biological pronouns for a person is a form of bigotry;

…we pretend that destroying food supply is making the world better (because… climate… or something);

…we pretend things are felonies that aren’t;

…we pretend that assassination attempts are “loud noises”;

…we pretend that angry demonstrations are “insurrections”, except when the angry demonstrations are aimed at “inequality” and then they are “profound public health interventions”;

…we pretend that adorning your face with cloth, in addition to conveniently displaying your conformity to official ideology, also forms a magical barrier between you and reality, which stops you from ever contracting a disease again;

…we pretend that imprisoning people for expressing their beliefs is “protecting democracy”;

…we pretend that the greatest threat to the civilized world is “misinformation” (Gasp! Hide your kids! Or they might have to decide for themselves what is true! Oh, cruel universe! Why??) and we pretend that organizations who peddle misinformation are really protecting us from it;

…we pretend that geo-engineering gunk from airplanes making rainbows in the sky is “clouds”;

…we pretend that air glow across the entire continent is just “northern lights” (even though it happened to correspond exactly with a known HAARP experiment;

…we pretend that endless govt spending will magically create prosperity (instead of pulling the entire economy into poverty like a load dragging the crane into the pit);

…we pretend things are hoaxes that aren’t, and that things are not hoaxes when they are (turning reality into something so “maddeningly fake” that it becomes self-mockery);

…we pretend that there are a class of people called “experts” who know what is best for us. Even though they have an astonishingly consistent record of visiting disaster and calamity upon us;

…we pretend that Taylor Swift is “bigger than the Beatles”😂😂😂;

And we could go on.

In essence, “Reality” has become just… stupid.

Every single day seems to serve up a new pile of steaming horseshit that we’re supposed to eagerly swallow whilst rubbing our tummies and asking for More, please.

As Eric Weinstein recently put it: “There’s no part of this world that looks sane to me.”

Here’s what I know about a good story: it has to be convincing. It has to immerse the story-goer in a reality so indistinguishable from their own lived experience that, even if only briefly, they’re under the spell of belief.

Ever been in a movie theater during a scary scene? The jump scare happens and people actually jump out of their seat. They scream. They spill popcorn. And interestingly, they laugh.

Why?

It’s a way of publicly acknowledging you’ve been duped.

And it is funny, when you think about it. Everyone knows it’s not real. It’s not like you’re confused about what’s happening; you paid your money to go see a two-dimensional recreation that you’re not a part of, in any way. You’re sitting in a comfy, semi-reclined seat, cramming your face full of food.

And yet, for a brief instant, your body and brain could not distinguish between screen-reality and non-screen reality. You were convinced the murderer’s axe was headed for your skull and your body made you move out of the way.

Hahaha, we fell for it. How foolish of us.

Well, I think what my friend Neo is really saying, and I can’t disagree, is simply this:

The movie we’re watching is shit.

A real turd-arino.

We see the axe coming and we don’t even flinch. We don’t believe any of it, not even for a second.

It’s not convincing, it’s not immersive in the slightest, it’s not the least bit compelling. And it’s blatantly manipulative. We’re aware the entire time of the hand of the author or the director gently nudging us to feel something, which we do not, like a menacing orchestral build in a movie soundtrack urging us to cringe in fear when we feel no such inclination… and so the result is an eye roll.

Not buying it, sorry.

But here’s the thing about my friend, Neo: he keeps going to the theater.

He spends almost every waking moment plugged into the Matrix.

He makes his living in the Matrix. He’s a content creator, a podcaster, a social media influencer, a tech giant.

And even when he’s not working he’s reading the content served up by the Matrix algorithms, paying attention to exactly what he’s supposed to. He streams his entertainment from the Matrix. He plays his games in the Matrix. He orders his goods from the Matrix. His social needs and sexual gratification are provided by the Matrix.

He does not exercise or perform any kind of athletic activities. He does not spend time with his family nor play with his children. He does not hike or commune with nature. He does not perform any physical labor. He suffers from anxiety, but does not seek to address it though spiritual practice or contact with his physical community.

He spends nearly the entirety of his waking life (if you want to call it that) plugged into, and feeding off, the Matrix.

He’s not what I would call a “hard contact with reality” guy.

Is it any wonder he thinks we’re in a sim?

I try to point this out to my friend, Neo.

I tell him, Neo, dude… there are plenty of hard contacters out there. I know quite a few of them. (And, not coincidentally, I believe they are some of the finest people I know).

Anyone who gathers with friends and family, in person, and shares a meal and drinks and laughter is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who has struggled to lift something, or to run past the limits of their endurance, or to outperform an equally determined athletic opponent, is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who hikes out into the middle of the wilderness, away from all people and cell signals, and stands in awe of the beauty of the Creator and His work, is in hard contact with reality.

Yours truly hard at work NOT creating content. And I’m not sorry.

But hard contact with reality is not all feats of athleticism and stunning landscapes and laughter.

In fact, it’s usually the opposite.

It is difficulty and ugliness and brutality and life on the edge of survival.

Anyone who makes their living with their muscles and sweat and blood—anyone who mends a fence, or fixes a wheel line, or hangs drywall, or works an oil rig, or fells a tree, or harvests food from the soil or ocean, or works livestock, or tars a road in the middle of summer—is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who has to make a choice between paying their rent or eating is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who is living in chronic pain or illness, or who cares for the chronically ill, is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who has helplessly watched a loved one dying, or having lost them gone back to a suddenly empty house, is in hard contact with reality.

Anyone who has walked through the rubble and destruction and stink of human remains in a war zone is in hard contact with reality.1

The point is, there’s plenty of reality out there.

But my friend Neo won’t hear it.

You see the problem, don’t you? My friend is right to call out the unconvincing, absurd Matrix story for the steaming heap of bullpucky that it is.

But he refuses to unplug and stop consuming it.

And so he regards it as coextensive with all that is.

Hence, nothing is real. We’re in a sim, bro.

And this is why I say that the situation we’re faced with is worse than the Matrix.

In the Matrix, the prisoners were unconsciously living out their days in pods, unwittingly serving the Matrix by supplying it with their bioelectric power, with their minds kept passive in a shared reality simulation.

We, on the other hand, can exit it at any time and go get some reality, if we want.

We are not prisoners of the Matrix.

We are consumers.

This, as people smarter than me have pointed out, is more Brave New World than 1984.

And that is worse.

It is horrifying, in fact.

In Brave New World the World State provide the citizenry with a soothing drug called soma… and the populace like it. So they demand more of it. Which the World State happily supplies.

As I’ve said before, I don’t fear the would-be tyrants. They’re a joke.

I fear the compliant.

The Matrix is really a re-telling of the Allegory of the Cave. But the horrifying part of the Allegory is not that people are prisoners to the make-believe world presented for them. It is that when the philosopher tries to liberate them, to show them the way out of the Cave into the light of reality, the prisoners think the philosopher is mad, and they tear him to pieces.

Unlike the Matrix, where the victims are imprisoned in a manufactured dream, we can look away from the shadow puppet reality any time we want. We can exit the cave.

The masters know this and they don’t care. Because they also know this: people like it in the cave. They’re addicted to it. They don’t want to leave.2 The discomfort involved with walking toward the light feels gouging your eyes out. So most people will willingly stay put, right where they think they belong. And they will ridicule and threaten the dissenter who tries to pull them away.

And, doesn’t this sound familiar? We’ve come to expect authorities to try to attack and discredit dissenters. But when our friends, family, and coworkers turn on us for the sin of daring to voice our dissent from the official narrative, when, driven to ignore the voice of sanity in their own minds, they become the enforcement wing of the regime, we have entered into post-apocalyptic horror, one far scarier than the Matrix.

The real horror of the fake pandemic was the revelation that there are people out there who enjoy their obedience. They can’t wait to climb into the cattle cars. They experience the theatricality, the “solidarity”, the sense of belonging to a ideological group, the display of outward signs of compliance, as pleasure.

Consider this, and really think about it: if an evil product is being sold on the market, is the seller the sole villain? What about the consumer? The seller, after all, is just filling demand.

When you consume a product, guess what the producers do? Naturally, they produce more of it.

Just imagine the board meeting.

“All right, gentlemen. The public ate up our last production of ScaryBallz Human-Eating Contagion Monster from Hell”. We had over 8 billion in opening weekend ticket sales, and several billion of those came back for multiple viewings. What do you think we should produce next... a love story?”

A burst of laughter, and tear-wiping all around the boardroom table.

“Okay, so I think we’re all agreed. So, where are we on ScaryBallz Human-Eating Contagion Monster 2?”

You get the point.

The makers of the Story know it doesn’t have to be good, or convincing, or be indistinguishable from reality.

All it has to do is be consumed.

And they will happily keep cranking out absurdly dumb stories for people to consume.

The producer-consumer relationship is what keeps the whole ball rolling.

This is why when I hear my friend Neo say snarkily clever things like “we’re living in a sim” I get chills of horror.

Because when I try to drag him out of that sim, he likely won’t go. He’s addicted to it. He won’t face the pain of the actually real, and he will likely take me down before he does.

Please, don’t be like my friend Neo.

Stop consuming it.

Declare and mean it: “This story is dumb.”

And walk out of the theater.

And when you emerge into the light of reality, take it in. Embrace it. Uncomfortable as it may be.

Be a hard contacter.

Do some physical work. Do something difficult, that seems to require more effort than you have—this is when growth happens. Help a loved one. Cook dinner for someone and enjoy it together. Plant something in the dirt. Create something beautiful with your hands. Be involved in your local community—not online, but in the real live flesh. And when you have had your fill of communing with others, go walking somewhere there are no other humans and commune with your spirit/creator/being.

And remember the simple power of not participating. Of refusing to play along. Refusing to pretend things are true that aren’t. Of saying No Thanks and shutting the door in their face. Of bidding the room farewell and walking out.

The power of Nope.

This is honoring reality. When you do this you get a powerful rush of endorphins, which is your body thanking you for not participating in stark nonsense. For refusing to be a consumer of bullshit.

There’s plenty of reality out there, if you want it.

We might be in the Matrix, sure.

But you can stop consuming it any time you want.

(Thanks for the link

Dollyboy

)

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