ward street week, part 3: scenes from "the matrix", rewritten as if the matrix were my apartment, ward street d

(Read Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 of Ward Street Week)

At the end of the month, Sean Keane is moving out of his apartment of four years, a South Berkeley four-bedroom apartment known affectionately as "Ward Street D." This week, Zembla will present pieces involving or inspired by Ward Street D over the years, a final tribute to the best little whorehouse/apartment in Texas/Berkeley.

Scenes From "The Matrix," If The Matrix Were My Apartment, Ward Street D

Agent Smith: Can you hear me, Morpheus? I'm going to be honest with you. I hate this place, this flat, this apartment, this slum, whatever you want to call it. I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell. The smell of cats. Cats outside. Pissing. Shitting. Leaving dead rats on the stairs. I feel...saturated by it. I can taste the cat stink. And every time I do I feel I have somehow been infected by it, it's repulsive. I must get out of here.

* * *

Boy: Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead only try to realize the truth.

Neo: What truth?

Boy: There is no spoon.

Neo: There is no spoon? Wait, you probably mean that the spoon itself doesn't bend, rather, my perceptions and self change, thus making it appear that the spoon is bending. I think I'm finally understanding this crazy apartment.

Boy: No, there just aren't any spoons. Morpheus has been staying at his girlfriend's place, and Cypher never does the dishes on his own.

* * *

(Morpheus and Neo are sparring really fast and futuristically anti-gravity-like. Morpheus does the one-inch punch. Neo's ass is totally kicked.)

* * *

Morpheus: Do you want to know the truth about Ward Street D? Unfortunately, no one can be told what Ward Street D is. You have to see it for yourself. After this there is no turning back. You take the blue pill, the story ends, you go back to your old apartment and your high rent and your "cleanliness" and your "dignity". You hit the green bong, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes. (Pause) Actually, there's a lot of cats living in the rabbit hole right now, so maybe we can just play NBA Showtime.

* * *

Neo: Whoa, deja vu.

Trinity: What did you just say?

Neo: Nothing, I just had a little deja vu.

Trinity: What did you see?

Neo: A black cat went past us, and then another that looked just like it.

Trinity: Dammit, another set of kittens! I talked to the neighbors three times about spaying and neutering. Morpheus, stop feeding the cats canned crab meat!

* * *

Agent Smith: Have you ever stood and stared at it, marveled at its beauty, its genius? Four people just living out their lives, oblivious. Did you know that the first Ward Street D was designed to be a perfect apartment. Where none suffered. Where everyone would be happy. With a dishwasher. And air conditioning. It was a disaster. No one would sign the lease. Entire foursomes were lost. Some believed that we lacked the programming language to describe your perfect apartment. But I believe that college students define their reality through misery and suffering and drinking and illicit drug use. The perfect apartment was a dream that their primitive cerebrums kept trying to wake up from.

* * *

(Neo downs five shots of vodka in less than thirty seconds)

Trinity: How did you do that?

Neo: Do what?

Trinity: I've never seen anyone drink that fast.

Neo: I just didn't want Morpheus to call me a pussy again.

* * *

Agent Smith: Do you hear that, Mr. Anderson? That is the sound of inevitability. That is the sound of your death. Goodbye, Mr. Anderson.

Neo: (listens) It sounds like cats fighting and the guy next door revving his Camaro.

Agent Smith: I have got to get away from these fucking cats.

* * *

Neo:: I know you're out there, San Francisco landlords. I know that you're afraid. You're afraid of us. You're afraid of change. I don't know the renter's bill of rights. I didn't come here to tell you how you're entitled to interest on your security deposit, or how your landlord needs to give you written notice at least 48 hours in advance if he or she wants to inspect your residence. I came here to try to find a three-bedroom place near public transportation, preferably with a washing machine. I'm going to hang up this phone and then I'm going to beg an elderly Vietnamese man for a 8 am appointment to view a flat in the Lower Haight.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Sean Keane published on July 2, 2003 11:27 PM.

ward street week, part 2: breaking up is hard to do was the previous entry in this blog.

ward street week, part 4: the difference between oakland and berkeley is the next entry in this blog.

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