I had prepared my first column about two weeks ago. It was a solid premise. It tied into the online game and brought a smile to my face. This is how I should start, I thought. And the words flowed like the Apache output log of /.
I was all set.
Then it grabbed me, this unexpected revelation on a linked webpage. It felt a little too personal—too coincidental.
You see, I heard that there was an article about the Wachowski Brothers up on Wired. You can read it as well:
I thought that this was unusual, as the Brothers never seem to give interviews. However, after a paragraph or two, it became obvious that the article was not a direct interview, but a collection of purported facts weaved into a simulated interview.
And then the similarities started to appear. The glitches in the Matrix started to ripple. And no one even bothered to offer me the choice of one of those dam pills.
They grew up in Chicago, and so did I.
They played Dungeons and Dragons. I still do.
They loved comic books and philosophy. Ditto.
It was at this point that I thought, “kindred spirits.”
And little did I know that the real confirmation would follow.
It appears that one of the Brothers, Larry, became enamored of a rather kinky individual. It appears that Larry started dating one Ilsa Strix, aka Karin Winslow. Known as Disney to her friends. A woman of many names and of many talents. Ilsa is a dominatrix. She dominates men for a living. She is pruriently intellectual. She is pretty good at it. Apparently so good, that she convinced Larry to steal her away from her transsexual husband of many years, Jake Miller. Ilsa has a thing for such eccentricities, such drama. Just ask her dogs, be they of canis persuasion or of humanus.
I can almost hear the Merovingian say, “Eccentric minds seek out eccentric pleasures. Simple, really. Cause—and Effect.”
So, it is either with delight, or with some fright, that I know the Wachowski named Laurence and I are estranged brothers. We have grown up eating the same foods in the same neighborhoods, fought the same imaginary dragons, poured over the same pulp pages, and have been endlessly struck by the same twelve foot bullwhip, wielded by the very same hand. There are more lurid details that I could go into, but I suspect that they would be best left to your imagination. Or nightmares.
There have been times when I wonder why I felt such an affinity for the world of the Matrix. And now I can hear The Oracle say, “Kiddo, you’ve known the answer all along.”
After letting this all sink in, I keep having this eery feeling that a hand is going to reach behind my head and yank the jack out. Apoc, Link, whomever, get me to a dam exit!
Welcome to the real world indeed.