Torpedo Juice полностью

They heard running footsteps out in the hall. The door burst open and Serge marched to the front of the room. He dove right in, pacing and gesticulating, lost in thought like a field-goal kicker who blocks out the crowd. “…And then Neo took the red pill so he could see the truth. He was the Chosen One, ready to save the city of Zion….”

A man in the front row raised his hand. “So we should smash this Matrix?”

Others nodded. “Smash the Matrix!” “Smash the Matrix!”

“What are you talking about?” said Serge.

“The army of Morpheus. We’re ready to join!”

“Smash the Matrix!”

“No,” said Serge. “It’s just a movie. I told you that at the beginning. We’re here to talk about my favorite flicks.”

“Oh, that was a movie.”

“Weren’t you listening?” said Serge. “Now I want to discuss the oeuvre of Paddy Chayefsky. Network is one of the all-time greats, number sixty-six on the American Film Institute List….”

A hand went up. “We should smash this Network?”

“Smash the Network!” “Smash the Network!…”

Serge banged his forehead on the blackboard. He spun around. “Everyone, shut the hell up!”

The room stopped. All eyes on Serge. “That’s better.” He began pacing again. “You want a Matrix? Okay, I’ll give you a Matrix. There’s an elaborate world of illusion out there designed to control all facets of our daily lives, but it’s not made of computer codes. It’s made of words….”

They glanced at each other with concern.

“It’s the calculated packaging of your entire life, a twenty-four-hour reality manipulation on a hundred channels. Cell phone minutes that set you free, instant stuffing that makes your thankless family sit up and take notice, deodorant soap that turns a shower into a life-affirming epiphany… Enough already! I say, Kill the advertisers!”

“Kill the advertisers!” “Kill the advertisers!”

“Are you nuts?” said Serge. “It’s just advertising. If you can’t see that, you’re already toast. In fact, I want to be manipulated. If I have to watch a commercial, at least don’t give me the same dreary heartbreak I see every day on the street. Briefly balm me with cheerful, slow-motion footage of an orange slice spraying the air with droplets of that citrus goodness, and I’m ready to face another day!… No, the real problem is lawyers. Scum-sucking, double-talking, soul-selling leeches with legs. Everything that comes out of their mouths is a feckless belch of duplicity, their entire culture communicating in a regional accent of velveteen, overly qualified, triple-couched, can’t-nail-it-to-the-wall-like-Jell-O, circumlocutious fibbery. If you and I walked around nozzling this kind of fiction on a daily basis, we’d all be friendless, divorced and fired. But our justice system rewards their morning-noon-and-night press conferences pointing nine different directions away from the bloody client: ‘It was drug smugglers, the ex-boyfriend, the “Alphabet Soup” killer, Satanists in a windowless van that was the dark shade of a light color, and I vow never to rest as I travel the globe in my personal search for the real killer!’ And I’m thinking, yeah, well, you might want to save your frequent-flyer miles because I think I caught a glimpse of the ‘real killer’ today. He was sitting next to you at the fucking defense table!… There’s only one Shakespearean solution. Kill the lawyers!”

“Kill the lawyers!” “Kill the lawyers!…”

“Are you insane? Lawyers are good! We need lawyers! Be more skeptical. Analyze those attorney-bashing sound bytes by multinational corporations and the harems of far-right congressmen they buy up on the cheap like dazed crack whores chanting, ‘I take it in the mouth for jury-cap lobbyists.’ Listen carefully when Fortune Five Hundreds say the greatest threat is runaway verdicts that only enrich those greedy trial lawyers. Then ask yourself: Why does every vested interest that wants us to get rid of our lawyers have entire floors reserved for their own legal teams?… No, lawyers are the common man’s last defense against the deep pockets. It’s the corporations, I tell you!…”

The audience was indecisive. A woman in the front row slowly raised her hand. “Except the corporations are good?”