The Matrix, Mandela, and a Younger Man’s Nose

So, Steve and me got into a fight. Who's Steve, Paul? Not important. That's who.

What was the fight about?

The death of Nelson Mandela.

As everyone knows, Nelson Mandela died December 5th, 2013 when he was 95. Apparently I am wrong and such an idiot for being so wrong. According to Steve, Nelson Mandela died in prison in the 1980s. Apparently I don't remember it because I was so young (as I was born in 1980, I was definitely quite young when he died if he died then).

But if you do a quick Google or ask Alexa or check records, however deep you go into researching this, you will find that Nelson Mandela died on December 5th, 2013, almost two full decades after his supposed death when he was still in prison.

When I asked Steve how he explains that Nelson Mandela went on to rule his country after being set free, he paused.

"It's a conspiracy!"

"Oh really, like the Illuminati?" I guffaw, not truly believing that he is serious.

"Exactly, but the Illuminati is a load of pish," he says.

"So what do you think happened to Nelson Mandela?"

"In his South African prison in about 1984 or 1985, Nelson got sick. Very sick. Can you imagine being in a South African prison back then as an enemy of the white ruling-class state?"

"I can, but don't want to. But please, go on..."

"Well, he often found himself in solitary confinement because he couldn't stop talking of freedom and an end to Apartheid. This gave all the black South African prisoners hope but rankled the wardens. One night he got very ill in solitary confinement, and the one guard assigned to his wing of the prison was very much under the impression that Mandela was bad. Now, aside from some very racist comments, he didn't directly do anything to hurt Nelson. But that night Nelson got ill. Really ill. Was choking, shivering, vomiting into the piss bucket in his prison cell. Meanwhile, this guard is getting more irritated and telling him to calm down. Instead of checking on him, the guard goes off to play poker with one of the female administration staff members. Strip poker, in fact. Things get heated and they are tearing each other's clothes off and fucking right there on the  canteen table. The next morning, the guard finds Nelson lying in a pool of his own vomit, drowned. They then keep it quiet and employ an actor to play Mandela."

"Was there a person with dwarfism running around with a red raincoat on?"

"I don't know? Why are you laughing? Didn't you hear what I said? I hardly think a campaigner for the end of Apartheid's unceremonious and undignified death by his own vomit is a laughing matter, do you?"

"Of course not, Steve. But can I ask you something?"

He nods.

"Have you ever seen the film Don't Look Now?"

"You mean the celebrated horror-thriller that has one of the supposed raciest sex scenes in colour motion picture history between a younger Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie, whose daughter dies by wandering into the garden pool while they are fucking? The same film that then sees them moving to Venice as he has an assignment to restore a church, but is informed that their definitely dead daughter is seen by him wandering around, to which a sister at said church explains it's their daughter warning them of danger? That film? The same film that In Bruges, starring the always impressive Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell along with a slightly psychotic Ralph Fiennes, paid homage to at every given moment? What about it?"

"Think about it, Steve. You said the guard and the admin girl were together. And Mandela died while they were together, from vomit drowning. Do you not see similarities?"

"No. This was South Africa, which is very different from Bruges and Venice! Julie Christie is a certified babe though. Even now. Eighty-six looks different on some people."

"So Nelson Mandela was replaced by an actor, like that film starring Kevin Kline?"

"Not everything in the movies is complete fiction, Paul."

"Why didn't they hoist him up between two inmates and do a Weekend at Bernie's?"

"You're being ridiculous now. It's like Sinbad's Shazaam movie. Remember that shit? Sinbad used to be hilarious, and he played a crazy 90s genie."

"Steve..."

"Don't start..."

"I will, because again, you are wrong. Look,"

I show him the Google results for the movie Kazaam, starring Shaquille O'Neal, not Sinbad.

"You can't trust Google. They are obviously in on it and helping to cover over these collective mind scrubs."

"Well, I know what I saw. At least we can agree on that ultra-slick late 90s film, in which a sublime and enigmatic Laurence Fishburne tells Keanu Reeves' character that the world he knows is all a lie."

"Steve... Wait. I have an idea. I will bring up the script and we can act it out if you like. Nice bit of nostalgia."

"Sounds good. Can I be Morpheus? 'Neo, the world you know is a lie.'"

"Of course, buddy. Gimme a second."

Once the script is up on both our phones, we begin.

"At last. Welcome, Neo. As you no doubt have guessed, I am Morpheus."

"It's an honour to meet you."

"No, the honour is all mine. Please, come. Sit. I imagine that right now you’re feeling a bit like Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole? Hm?"

"You could say that."

"I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he is expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Neo?"

"No."

"What about chicken club sandwiches and a Dr Pepper?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm following the script. But I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life."

"I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You've felt it your entire life—that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad like the episode where SpongeBob gets a splinter. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Nelson Mandela?"

"Do you want to know what it is? Nelson Mandela dying is a principle that is found everywhere. It is all around us, even now in this very room. You can see the impact when you look out your window or when you turn on the television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth."

"What truth?"

"What happened to Nelson Mandela in prison."

"Wait a minute. This wasn't in the movie."

"Steve. Do you remember much more about that film than all that leather, slow mo gun fights and leather?"

"Trinity was goddamn sexy. I have never wanted to be the chosen one more than then."

"So do you see what I am getting at?"

"Not really."

"You believed the script up until that point because it was documented. Now let's apply the logic to the death of Nelson Mandela."

"That's different but fine prove your point."

Shit. Someone has changed his Wikipedia page. I can't show Steve or he will never let this be forgotten.

"No it's alright dude. Trinity eh? Wonder why they call her that. Is it because a night with her leads to meeting the father, the son and the holy spirit?"

"Has she been in anything recently? Was she not in that show with the woman who has tattoos all over her body?"

"Oh yeah. Carrie-Anne Moss, right? She didn't have tattoos. I think she was an FBI director or something."

"I'm sure she had tattoos."

"Don't start, Steve."

"I think we can all agree on one thing though. We're going to need a bigger boat."

"Fuck you Steve"

"What?"

"You know it's you're not we're."

"What?"

"It's like Piano Man..."

"Don't you mention my beloved William Martin Joel born May 9, 1949 in vain."

"Sing me Piano Man, from the opening with the old man."

"Oh specific." Steve drops his jaw, stretching out his neck. "Mi-me-ma-mo-mu, trrrrrr—" He pauses, takes a breath, and sings, "Son, can you play me a melody? I'm not really sure how it goes. But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's nose."

"Now you're just trying to piss me off. You know it's not melody surely... it's memory."

"I sang what I sang. Let's just have some Froot Loops."

"That's not right. It's Fruit Loops."

"Now who's being an idiot? First Mandela and now Froot Loops."

"Steve."

"Yes dear?"

"Shut the fuck up."