We’re living through a really campy, cringe-inducing mid-summer release B-flick geared toward imbecilic sophomores (who smell funny and have sticky palms). You know—where the villains look so ridiculously unbelievable that no sane, reasonable person would ever expect anyone to accept them even in a work of comic stripy fiction. I expected a Matrix envisioned by the Wachowski brothers, but it turns out that the Wachowskis, like the rest of the nonsense run through our collective consciousness, are a bad plot twist in a shitty script by Rick Sloane.
It’s a terrible feeling when you realize that you cannot wake up from a nightmare. There appears to be no satisfactory way to unplug from this simulation before it completes its cycle.