Glitches in replaying the Matrix loop segue

The difficulty of conveying mythos and history to evangelize the young.

Readership:  All; Those who are aware;

The other day, I was talking with a young man on the train.  We had a long journey and soon our talk developed depth.

“Have you ever noticed how people communicate on a subconscious level?

He gave me a musing look.

This is a more authentic form of communication.  When I first noticed this, I became intrigued because people clearly recognize each other’s intended meaning, even though they do not seem to understand each other.

If others are communicating with us in this way, then we should focus on the subjective impression, rather than what words they are using.  However, there are some very aware people who can pepper their speech with key words which affirm the nonverbal message they wish to convey.

Did you ever take the time to understand people on this level?”

He sat silently with a confused look on his bright face.

The fact that we were strangers emboldened my talk, because I knew it encouraged the suspension of disbelief.

“Young man, let me tell you a story.  It’s a story that you’ll tell your grandchildren someday.

Those of my generation and the next one younger were pawns born into an empire of Luciferic command.

Yet, in our youths, we were unaware of the Matrix.

But, as we were going about “life as usual”, a few people noticed some glitches in the matrix.

Those who were curious – or disgruntled – enough, started to pull at the threads that held all their notions together in a cohesive and respectable façade.

And those whose lives were picked threadbare, and others who never GAF, began to notice certain shapes and forms of things moving behind the fabric.

At first, I believed those forms would “engage” or “threaten” those who discovered them.

And I was right!  The shapes and forms of those things behind the fabric… began possessing people with strange notions and expectations.

…and ever so slowly with each passing year, their numbers grew.”

My skillful use of mythical language had taken effect.  The youth’s eyes had opened widely, and his breathing had become shallow.

“Who are they?”  He asked.

I could not name names, because then he would blow me off as a deluded fool.  So I shifted the topic ever so slightly.

“The people change.  The culture changes too!  Even I changed!”

He nodded, but his furrowed brow indicated that he clearly didn’t “get it”.

When I noticed this, I faltered.  I thought, “He doesn’t understand.  …and why am I passing my own generation’s guilt on to the next?”  I thought it best to take a strategic reprieve to maintain credulity.

Just then, one of his hipster friends approached, and his suspension of disbelief was broken.  He was suddenly transformed into a “loser” for wasting time talking with a befuddled older man.

The foolish youth snapped into the revised context and responded to me with a chuckle.

“That’s a deep one, mister…  I’ll need some time to generate thought on that!”

How true were his words!  I’ll guess he’ll need about two decades, at least.

He stood up and jauntled down the aisle with his friend, who was no doubt leading him to a larger group of comrades in another car.  The young man quipped, “That guy is high on the Red Pill”, and they laughed garrulously as he repeated a butchered version of my story to his friend.  I felt embarrassed to have my confidentiality twisted and blathered to the NPC masses.

Could it be possible that I have gone mad?  Have the Satanic tortures of the Matrix driven me insane?

Will succeeding generations be able to relate to, or even BELIEVE our generations story?

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