Newer Version, has been revised due to recent events.  Some examples are from personal experience.  Enjoy

------

To Be A Fan

To be a fan of the Matrix is to be committed. To be a fan, is to be strong. To be a fan is to believe.

Where is the line between dedication and obsession?

There are few of us, there are many of us whose lives have been changed by a simple movie. And they watch us, and make sure we obey. The men in suits, which have been dubbed, "Agents" will forever watch us. They will be careful with the fans.

There are many of us. Thoughts have been changed, beliefs altered, fashions made. All from a simple movie.

And they watch us, make sure we find nothing. Almost hoping our dedications, our obsessions don't lead into something.

They made a movie.

It showed us the truth, and disguised itself as a lie.

Does a fan believe the Matrix is real? Does a fan believe the actors are clones and copies of the originals? Are the Wachowskis programs?

We should know, we are fans, and the Agents are watching us.

A Matrix fan may only like the Matrix. A fan may watch it again and again. A fan may write for it, draw for it. Or a fan may defend it.

"Matrix sucks!"

The younger fans will hear. They'll wear their trench coats they bought for eighty dollars at Hot Topic. They will slouch down, and lower their heads. While the others without trench coats will point and laugh. They've tried fighting back, telling their peers to shut up, some have even fought, and they were punished wrongly by that. Now, they stay silent, merely living with it, what choice do they have? To fight back would be like a lonely human wandering the surface, just waiting to be killed by a Sentinel. If only they were Neo. Neo would make them all stop

They will scribble in their notebooks when they should be writing down notes. "Neo, get me out of here." "The Matrix has you." There are even little drawings of what appear to be chibi Sentinels. An entire paper wasted, or made into art, by writing the Matrix over and over and over and over and over.

They will flee to their friends, others like them. They stick together, wearing their black clothes. They will speak among themselves, laughing and joking. Speaking how childish Brown is. Wondering what color socks Neo usually wears. Joking of being stuck in bullet time, or even just mimicking the fights

But beyond the pain, and the laughter their short minded peers give them, there is happiness. Because they believe in the Matrix, they believe it is great, they love it. And they'll express themselves through it. They are strong because of the Matrix. They are happy because of the Matrix, they are friends because of the Matrix.

Together the young fans will stare at their peers, mocking them. And they'll smile. Because they know they are better than them, they believe in something that has changed them. They are strong now. They are strong.

They know, to be a fan of the Matrix, you have to put up with this stuff. They know that.

And they smile again, because they're going to take Kung-fu during the summer, and next year they'll be able to bust moves as good as The One in front of their peers.

And the men in suits will watch from a far, and send data to the Mainframe.

To be a fan of the Matrix may gain respect. Will people study it, and take knowledge from it. People will gain studies, and prove theories. People will decide reality.

They will become Professors, but will be doubted because theories were inspired by a movie. Even as they speak of the Matrix with the highest respect, their fellow philosophers will only doubt them. "It's only a movie, a bad trilogy at that." Some will tell the new philosophers. But they will shake their heads, and one way or another earns the recognition they deserve. It is inevitable after all.

What about the crazy fan girls?

Where are the Keanu-crazed woman, screaming whenever Neo kicks Smith?

Then there are the quieter, less spoken Smith-crazed woman. Not always Hugo-crazed, but Smith. They are quieter because they know if they ever were to be in Smith's presence he would not be impressed by a screaming fan-girl. And inevitably kill them.

The girls that look on the Internet at learn about these two. How sad a miserable they you've been. Poor Keanu, your sister will get better, they promise. Your sister will be all right, I'll make sure of it, Keanu. And your dad, he'll never hurt you again. Keanu, I'll make it better, I'm sorry you had to go through all that shit alone, I'm sorry you had to be strong all alone. I'm sorry everyone calls you stupid, that's just horrible. You're just a guy, and actor who doesn't like interviews. Who can blame you? Keanu, Cool breeze over the mountain.

And Hugo, with his epilepsy, a disbalance of the brain that causes seizures. Oh, Hugo, you had your first attack when you were only thirteen, only the age of the younger Matrix fans. I'm sorry Hugo. I'm sorry you had to describe it as, "my last few seconds on earth." What a terrible feeling, what a horrible thing to be left, gasping for air. Like Smith suffocating on the smells. I'm sorry Hugo, I'm so sorry. Please Hugo, please take your medicine and be happy. You have a family now, please Hugo.

And soon it becomes as if these people, these real people, become our friends. As if we really know them personally somehow. Perhaps in a sense we do.

We'll sit there, staring at the blank piece of paper, while it stares back at us. Keanu's or Hugo's or Carrie's or Laurence's or Jada's address written on our hands. It's a fan letter. No, it's more than that. It's a letter, it's the one way you'll be able to say what you need to say to them. Thank them. Tell them to tell Andy and Larry, thank you as well. Hope and prey that they may write you back.

Do the fan-girls dream? They dream of healing their wounded character. Be Neo's next girl if he survives Smith, when Trinity is dead in Revolutions. Heal is broken heart, and allow him to see through his blinded eyes. Or just the girl that got away. The one that admires Neo from a far, and knows she would be better for him. Or the girl Neo left behind when he chose the Red Pill. Look at those Brown eyes, and see the pain it is to be The One. The One has a destiny that he cannot change, a purpose that cannot be without. The One made by machines, to fight against them. The One is expected to do so much, but he has no idea what to do. The fan-girls see that.

Will the Smith girls ever fulfill their dreams of showing Smith love? Will they survive long enough with him to kiss him? To be the girl he let lived while he was an Agent, and to be the one he thinks about. To be the one Smith decides not to copy. The kidnapped girl, who sees Smith for what he really is. Will she be the girl that Smith can't smell? Will they see Smith like no other? They will think of him with pain. He is a program who was willing to die to escape the Matrix. Surrounded by smells that he can never get away from. The only solution is to make the cause of the smell him. To become what he hates, a Virus. And to have the human that took everything away from him have it so easy. All they have to do is take a red pill, while he is forever trapped. To think of freedom, but in the end die with fear. They will see that in Smith's beautiful blue eyes.

And there is some, who think of themselves as Neo's son, Neo's brother, Neo's best childhood friend, Neo's hacker friend. Do they have any power that was once Neo's? They dream of seeing Neo, and helping him. Having powers that matched The One, and saving him from the Virus. Do they have names that are anagrams to? Eon, Oen, Noe, etc...

There is some who wish to follow in Smith's footsteps. The daughter, the son of Smith. Angel Smith, Agent Davis... They are the former Agents that would become the next Smith, born from his hatred, and not willing to die likes him.

Somehow feel comfort imagining they are somehow closer to the Matrix and the characters. Somehow feeling as if they actually made a difference in the war. They after all paid the eight dollars to get into the theater, ten for the Imax.

There are some who want to leave the Matrix with the one they love. Be the mortal Neo and Trinity. To hold each other in their warm touch in the cold Real World. To lay in the hard bed together, and whisper to each other "We made it." To hold each other, and promise to protect one another in the coming war. To promise each other, they will see a day with peace. To open their eyes for the first time in the Real World, and have the first thing they see be the one they love. The face they know so well, and have never seen.

And the Men in suits observe.

To be a fan of the Matrix is hard, for the least

To sit for hours on the computer, arguing about Neo's middle name. Saying Thomas means Twin in another language, and Smith and Neo are twins, making the "A" stand for Agent.

To sit for hours and try to figure out the symbolism, the message the directors are trying to give you. Those brilliant Wachowski Brothers, they must be a little insane to come up with all this. A year has passed, and yet we are still learning the complete message. Perhaps we will never know.

How many hours are lost in the dark with a movie that could have been spent outside?

But in the end, they know it is worth it. They don't know how, but it is.

What about the few that have memorized it all word for word?

"Why, Mr. Anderson?"

The quote, they know and remember, swearing they will know it forever.

"Because I choose to."

And the simple reply that means so much.

How many fans have figured out why Neo went blind? What was the purpose of that? How many know it is to signify Lady Justice with her bandage around her eyes?

How many have noticed that the machine that carries Neo away has green eyes on the DVD, but red in the movie?

How many know the God Machine is called the Dues Ex Machina?

How many think Seraph is a former One?

How many can read the Matrix code?

How many wonder what Kid's and Spoonboy's names are?

How many have already pre ordered the Matrix online?

How many of us have gotten into fights, defending the value of Reloaded and Revolutions? Saying, it was planned like this! Stop flaming it, open your eyes and shut up! How many believe the Matrix sequels will catch up to people one day, and they will see how good they are? How many have been hurt because they were defending the Matrix?

The numbers are being calculated, and the men in suits are counting.

To be a fan is to be dedicated.

There are few of us who have made fan sites dedicated to the Matrix. They have to be maintained, and forever updated to go on and on. The pictures found to post, the articles they find.

And the Role playing people do online. Some are captains, some are Agents, and some are bounty hunters.

Agent Harper, Captain Lazer, Bounty Hunter Death.

The dedication it takes to be that person you wish to be online. And with the Matrix online coming out, the dedication will grow. So many people will join, to really say, to really who they are part of the Matrix, they are part of the war. To really run from an Agent, and stand in the middle of the street with cars stopping in front of them, to say, "Here, this is where Neo stood." There will Rebels, and Mechanists, those who shall work for the Agents. Those who will form their own destinies, and meet the characters. Maybe...Maybe there will be a One among us, fighting with his keyboard as his fists.

It will be so glorious.

How many of us laughed when we see Hugo acting like a fish in Smith's clothing on the Bonus Features of the Matrix Revolutions DVD?

How many laugh at Hugo's Australian voice, being so different from Smith's?

How many laugh at Keanu's jokes on the Matrix Revisited?

How many smile when they see how many Matrix Revolutions DVDs are left?

Then there are all that are inspired.

The writers, the artists come out, and they write and draw. They write things that make people cry, and draw in great detail. Stories untold become as valued as the movies. Where a model, astronaut, and twelve year old can come together and write and draw for the same thing.

"It's just a movie." Some will tell these authors, who write notes in their notebooks stories that will soon make their way to the Internet. The authors ignore that person, and shake their heads. It's more than just a movie. It is so much more, and they are just too blind to see that. The authors shake their heads, frowning at the pen that is now loosing ink.

"It's more than just a movie. You'll see when I win an Oscar."

Then the authors, the future famous writers, that will be remembered, begin to write again, ready to use as much ink as the pen has to offer.

So many authors.

"Why waste all this talent on fan fiction, huh? Why not spend it on something useful?"

"This is useful. I will write my own things, but for now...I have to do this."

"Why?"

"Because, it's my purpose."

Authors as young as twelve making masterpieces.

To sit and think. To sit and really think how these characters, this world can be changed and altered. To the point where they are yours, and no longer the Matrix's. It is such an art, the written word. Beauty without images. Oh if only, if only...

They are people with the skills to make fan films decent enough to be amazing.

It makes people express themselves, and rise. Grow our own wings, made of light or lighting.

How many of us will grab the Oscar and give thanks to the Matrix? How many will be on an E True Hollywood story, and talk about the Matrix? How many people will be on Cribs with a room dedicated to the Matrix? How many will say I love Smith, I love Neo in their careers? Who swears to God they will hunt Keanu and Hugo down, give them a hug without saying a word, and leave just like that? Who swears they will know them before they die, touch their hands and speak to them?

And the men in suits are watching everyone.

Where is the line between dedication and obsession?

Is it so bad that we write little Matrix symbols on our hands? Buy T-shirts or make our own? Is it so bad that we make up theme songs for our favorite characters, we look to these songs for inspiration, for a reminder, a guide. Is it so bad that we know every line? Is it so bad that we know Hugo likes to put his hands in his pockets? Is this obsession? Because if it is, then I don't think any of us would trade it for the world.

Is it so bad that you can find me, singing the words that were said as Neo and Smith fought to their deaths?

"Asato ma sad gamaya
tamaso ma jyotir gamaya
mrtyor mamrtam gamaya"

"From delusion lead me to truth
From darkness lead me to light
From death lead me to immortality."

Is it so bad to love a program, a virus in a suit? Or a man gifted and cursed with the sight in a trench coat? Even two albino twins? Even two little Agents left behind in the sequels by the names of Jones and Brown? Is that all so bad?

Is it so bad to give yourself a "Matrix name," and your friends one too? Is it so bad to just call your friends by those names? Squishy, Glitch, Mouse, and Yuki. My friends, my best friends. Is it so bad to carry a CD player, with Mona Lisa Overdrive, the chase scene music from Reloaded, booming from the headphones. Is it so bad to just look at the world in a completely different way?

Is this obsession? Why then, does it feel so right? Why, Matrix fans? Why do we do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you we believe we are fighting for something, something worth more than our survival? Is it freedom, or truth? Perhaps peace, or could it be for love? Illusions, Matrix fans. Vagaries of Perception. Temporary Constructs of a feeble human mind, trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself. Although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. Why, Matrix fans? You must be able to see it; you must know it by now. You can't win; it's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Matrix fans? Why, why do you persist?

Oh, Smith. So blind, so close to everything you've ever wanted. Oh, Smith, so bind. Because we choose to, Smith.

Is it obsession, to notice blue graffiti that says "one" and "onecopy," and actually wonder for a moment? Is it obsession to mark in the Styrofoam of the new Matrix figure you got in the mail, "Matrix" with your nails? Is it? Is it bad? It couldn't be. Not this. Not like this.

It's such a beautiful to love.

There is a trench coat and suit hanging in the closet. Posters on the walls. Posters of a man in a coat with a gun, and a FBI guy looking at you. There is art on the wall, similar to the posters. DVD cases scattered on the floor. Pictures of people in black. A paper on the floor, confirming the pre order of the Matrix Ultimate DVD Collection Set, Limited Edition. Scribbles on a paper reading lines from a movie. A movie playing on the TV. A soundtrack playing on the Stereo. A fan site on the computer. And Sunglasses shielding someone's eyes.

There are action figures of the characters. Fifty dollar busts of Neo, Smith, Morpheus, Trinity, the Twins, Niobi, expensive but collectable, being only one in eight thousand. Action figures re-creating scenes from the movie. A thirty-dollar Sentinel action figure hangs from the ceiling, trying to fly. Captain Mifune sits in his APU ready to die.

And someone in black sits alone, drawing, writing, and loving. It's such a beautiful sight. Perhaps even as the young Thomas A. Anderson once obsessed over a man named Morpheus.

Is this obsession? Or is this you?

Do you know Agents are watching you?

Did you know that there is no line when it comes to the Matrix? The line between dedication and obsession.

Then there are the few of us who have passed the Agents. Who are taken by the arm, and ran with people in trench coats. People who have survived bullets flying towards them.

There are few of us who have watched the pill scene long enough to know their answer. There are few of us who have made that answer.

Some of us have left us, and gone on to reality.

To be a fan of the Matrix is to believe.

Believe and we will be freed, the Agents will watch us, but we will fight them. We will believe and we will fight. We will soar.

Belief is a powerful thing in the Matrix.

We will finally be able to use our Matrix names.

Who knows, maybe one of us is The One.

And with us, the Matrix will never die.