The Matrix II. This will have spoilers, PLEASE don’t read it until you see the movie.

Ready?

Okay. The Matrix was fun. Anyone who’s heard Sean’s theories about the little red pill and the communist Wachowski brothers will have noticed the Oracle’s little red candy with satisfaction.

I missed Tank, I missed Switch, I missed Mouse, I missed having a clear and present human villain like Cypher that I could really identify with. I missed the dark and desperate feeling of the first film. This film lacked a lot of that tension, because for most of it Keanu is basically a god who cannot be harmed and who protects everyone he’s with. Even his forebodings about his eventual failure to protect someone were sort of tension-free, probably because I felt the Wachowskis were unlikely to entirely eliminate such an important character before the third film.

Basically the tension did not re-enter until the end of the film, and then, just when you’re feeling really worried, surprise! He’s a god again.

I give this film three stars out of five, but I will also give it another $18 so take that for what it’s worth.

Until I was four, my best friend’s name was Ian McDonald and he lived across the street from me. We spent most days in and out of each others’ back yards, pretending to be private detectives. He was pretty much willing to believe the things that I told him were true (the playhouse is our office; your little brother’s office can be the plum tree; run, we’re being chased by communists) and this made him a valuable friend.

When I was almost five, I started kindergarten and discovered girls. Ian and I hung on for a few more years, but eventually our detective business was supplanted by games of Rainbow Brite and the many, many pink plastic toys which the other girls owned. The day my big sister bought me my first Barbie doll (Peaches’n’Cream Barbie) was pretty much the day Ian and I broke up for good.

Although we went to the same high school, I never saw him around and wasn’t really aware of him. We were both nerds, but I was a nerd with a lot of friends, which is a different and easier level of nerdery than his own. Every year I would see him at the neighborhood Christmas Eve party and he would mention the many boys constantly coming and going from my house, and in a roundabout, friendly Ian way he would imply I was a tramp. It was always nice to talk to him. After a while he went off to Oberlin and then I went off to Santa Cruz. Periodically I would see him when we were both home for weekends, and I would imagine going over and knocking on the door and inviting him out for some coffee or for a rousing game of Kill the Communist Dogs, but I never did it.

Later, Ian graduated and moved to South America to do something humanitarian, and I dropped out and moved to Seattle to do something corporate. We saw each other less, but when we did, I would consider asking him about his travels or his humanity or if he wanted to take a walk down to the sewer creek and play Tarzan on the vines again, but I never did it.

This weekend, Ian’s mom sold the house and moved away. I think there is a lesson in this, but damn if I know what.

This is not how I imagined it, not paperwork, and not picking up soda cans at conferences, and not mustached men standing way too close to me in an elevator with only the two of us to fill it.

I’ll sell my car and buy a truck and a dog, I swear to god, I’ll go to Idaho, because if this is my life if this is my if this if THIS is my life then I will be someone else until it blows over.

A lot.

Dear Jared:

I’m glad we got a chance to connect in Indio on Saturday. Like Hamlet says, verily, after all these years, it’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the name. I thought our meeting was very productive, and I’d just like to review a few of the key bullet points we discussed, to ensure that we’re both on the same page for the coming fiscal year.

The first and most important topic on the table was deciding on the angle you’re going to want to take in the future. I know you felt okay with the slight angle you took while leaning against the fence, but I strongly feel that in the future you should pursue something a little more aggressive. If necessary, we could even set up some intensive yoga training for you in order to get you in the kind of shape to where you could lean back at a forty-five degree angle while you are smoking and staring soulfully into space. However, I am willing to be flexible on this, since I am asking you to be.

The second thing we worked on was your interfacing ability. I was impressed by your new model’s versatility as your expression changed from “walking face” to “trying to get on-stage with the Beastie Boys face,” and was still able to make the abrupt transition to “alarmed and annoyed by a stalker face” when I approached you. I have no suggestions for the essentials of your design, which I think are gorgeous. I only have a few quibbles with the cosmetic aspects: your presentation seems a little retro. I’m not sure the world is ready for a return to your long-haired eighties style – it might be better to stick with the shaggy but shorter nineties style until we can get some test marketing underway with the appropriate focus groups.

The last issue came up in our brief meeting on Sunday, where you walked by me sporting your newest attachment. She was gorgeous, but I have to question whether any attachment is appropriate for your design – won’t consumers prefer your sleeker, solo model? I know I’d buy it!

Jared, once again, it was a real pleasure meeting you backstage at the Beastie Boys concert. Those few moments when you were staring at me in an attempt to use your psychic powers to send me away were, I feel, productive for both of us. Since then, I’ve had several meetings with my associates to discuss your professionalism and your excellent product. I predict that you will be hearing a final decision from us in the very near future.

Best regards,

Didofoot