Coconut Porridge

 

“It means,” said the Oracle, “that you like or desire to eat some coconut porridge.”

 

“But I have never eaten coconut porridge,” said Neo. “Nor did I know that it was a thing.”

 

“Look I’ve told you what your dream means,” said the Oracle. “Now clear off, I’ve got cookies to bake.”

 

Neo cleared off.

 

He slowly perambulated through the corridors of the block of flats where the Oracle resided. He then left the block of flats and wandered the streets. After he had wandered the streets for a bit, he went home and watched some telly. He ate cheese on toast. He looked at the box of porridge oats in the cupboard.

 

“Nothing, in the Matrix, is meaningless,” he said to himself.

 

He picked up his phone and texted Morpheus:

 

Greetings, Morpheus.

Greetings, Neo.

How may I help you?

What does coconut porridge

mean to you?

The question is, what

does it mean to you, Neo?

I don’t know, Morpheus.

That’s why I’m asking you.

Let us analyse this further.

You ask me the meaning

of coconut porridge.

But I would suggest you

are asking the wrong question.

Rather than asking, “What

does coconut porridge mean to

Neo?,” perhaps you should ask,

“What does Neo mean to

coconut porridge?”

Now I am lost, Morpheus.

But is it Neo who is lost in the

World or the World that is

lost in Neo?

I think I’ll go and buy some

coconut flakes.

Good idea.

 

He put on his long black coat and boots and popped to the shops. There were no coconut flakes in Tesco’s, so he tried Morrisons. They only had coconut milk. The fruit and veg shop only had real actual coconuts.

 

“That’s no good,” said Neo. “Unless...”

 

He bought a real actual coconut, took it home and placed it on the kitchen counter. He considered his options. He took out his gun. He looked at the gun, looked the coconut, looked back at the gun, shook his head and put the gun back. He then picked up the coconut and bashed it on the kitchen counter, like unto a chocolate Easter egg. He did this several times and succeeded in cracking the Formica. So he took out a knife and started sawing at the coconut. The knife blade broke.

 

“Damn you, coconut!,” he said, as he picked up the infeasibly hard fruit, stomped outside and, in a fit of rage, threw it into the road. A car ran over the coconut, successfully cracking it open and leaving a coconutty mulch on the tarmac.

 

“Oh...” said Neo. He then quickly returned to his abode, got a spoon and a bowl, went back outside and scraped up what he could of the coconutty mulch (and quite a bit of tarmac and stones).

 

He made some porridge, added some of the coconutty mulch and had a little taste.

 

“Rubbery,” he said. “But otherwise...”

 

Morpheus!

Yes, Neo?

It is a taste sensation!

What is, Neo?

Coconut porridge!

So do you now have the

answers you seek?

Not really.

Never satisfied.

 

Neo shrugged, put down his phone and ate some more coconut porridge.