“We are living in a computer-programmed reality, and the only clue we have to it is when some variable is changed… déjà vu.” – Philip K. Dick, 1977[1]
Lana Wachowski’s work on The Matrix films has long been celebrated for its striking allegory of awakening from an illusory world. Through a Gnostic lens, her mythopoetic vision takes on even deeper significance. In Gnostic tradition, hidden knowledge (gnosis) frees souls from an oppressive false reality engineered by a Demiurge (a false god or architect of the material world). The Matrix saga transposes this ancient drama into a modern cyberpunk gospel: humanity is trapped in an artificial simulation, “a virtual world controlled by machines”[2], and salvation comes through knowing the truth. This essay explores Lana Wachowski’s symbolic and cultural role in that narrative – paralleling her to a Sophia figure (the Gnostic embodiment of wisdom) – and examines how her creation has been both remarkably accurate as a modern myth and subject to co-option by control systems. We trace the Matrix story (especially Matrix Resurrections and the forthcoming Matrix 5) alongside historical Gnostic cosmology (the Demiurge, Sophia, Valentinus), spiritual rebels like the Essenes and Cathars, modern gnosis in Philip K. Dick’s Exegesis and Julian Jaynes’ theories, and even the musings of contemporary esoteric thinkers like “Mike Hockney.” In doing so, we shine light on an ongoing ontological war between gnosis (experiential truth) and authoritarian epistemes (imposed realities – whether religious, corporate, or technological).
The Matrix as a Modern Gnostic Myth
From its inception in 1999, The Matrix has been read as a Gnostic parable. The film’s premise mirrors the ancient Gnostic worldview almost point for point. In classic Gnostic myth, the world we perceive is a construct – a flawed simulation crafted by the Demiurge, a lesser god who deludes himself into believing he is the ultimate authority. Humanity, in this narrative, is kept ignorant and trapped in a false realm, unaware of the divine spark within. Salvation comes only by awakening to the higher reality – by acquiring gnosis (knowledge of the truth) – often with help from a divine messenger or incarnated wisdom figure (Sophia/Christ).
In The Matrix, the Demiurge figure is reflected in the cold Architect and the AI system that created the Matrix. This artificial intelligence has built a convincing but false world to imprison human minds. It is ignorant of higher truths, much like the Gnostic Demiurge who “proceeds to create the physical world… ignorant of Sophia”[3]. The human population lives in a state of illusion, just as Gnostics said we are spiritual beings asleep in a counterfeit world. Neo’s journey of awakening – choosing the red pill and seeing “how deep the rabbit hole goes” – is a classic passage from ignorance to gnosis. As in Gnostic lore, there is divine spark in humanity: Neo is “The One,” the savior who can perceive the code behind the Matrix and bend its rules. In Gnostic myth, the true God sends an emissary (often associated with Sophia or the Logos) to disrupt the Demiurge’s grip and liberate souls[4]. In The Matrix, this role is shared between characters: Morpheus plays the guide (like John the Baptist or a Gnostic teacher) who offers Neo the chance to learn the truth, Trinity (notably named after a divine triad) embodies love and faith that resurrect Neo, and Neo himself embodies the Logos – the word/truth made flesh, freeing humanity from digital bondage.
Even the language in the film nods to Gnosticism. The ship Nebuchadnezzar carries Neo’s crew through the “desert of the real,” evoking the idea of a wasteland beneath the illusion – akin to the Gnostic notion that the material world is a desolate prison, the “Black Iron Prison” as sci-fi mystic Philip K. Dick called it[5]. The Matrix’s agents and sentinels parallel the Archons of Gnostic cosmology – cosmic wardens enforcing the Demiurge’s system. And the act of “waking up” from the Matrix is straightforwardly the attainment of gnosis. All these parallels were not lost on scholars and viewers; The Matrix has been dubbed a “cyber-Gnostic” text, seamlessly blending ancient myth with futuristic style.
Lana Wachowski, as co-creator (with her sister Lilly) of this mythos, can be seen as a modern myth-maker channeling themes that have recurred for millennia. In Gnostic terms, one might say she tapped into a kind of collective gnosis – articulating through fiction a fundamental truth about power, reality, and liberation that resonates deeply with people’s experiences. The cultural impact of The Matrix suggests it struck a nerve of mythopoetic accuracy: it accurately dramatized the predicament of the human condition under systems of control, albeit in sci-fi metaphor. As we’ll explore, such accurate myths can become threat models for real-world systems of control. But first, let’s look more at Lana’s role and the evolution of the Matrix saga in response to its own legacy.
Lana Wachowski as a Sophean Figure in Pop Culture
In Gnostic mythology, Sophia (Greek for “wisdom”) is a central figure – a feminine emanation of the divine who falls into the material realm and whose story is bound up with humanity’s fate[6][7]. Sophia’s journey is paradoxical: in seeking greater knowledge, she transgresses the boundary of the ultimate Godhead and inadvertently gives rise to the Demiurge (often named Yaldabaoth or Saklas). Ashamed and trapped in the chaos she helped create, Sophia nevertheless infuses her spiritual essence (a divine spark) into the creation, and works to guide humanity back to enlightenment[8]. The Gnostics saw the redemption of Sophia – through the aid of Christ/Logos – as entwined with the salvation of human souls[4]. In essence, Sophia is a bringer of light who becomes enmeshed in the darkness, and whose liberation is necessary for cosmic balance to be restored.
One can draw an analogy between Sophia and Lana Wachowski’s experience with The Matrix mythos. Lana poured profound wisdom – philosophical, spiritual, and personal – into the creation of The Matrix. The original film was essentially her gospel of truth, drawing on everything from Lewis Carroll and Jean Baudrillard to kung fu movies and Philip K. Dick. It awakened millions to questions about reality and control. In this sense, Lana acted as a Sophean figure, channeling a higher knowledge into the world through art.
However, like Sophia’s mythic fall into the world, The Matrix became a cultural product subject to the forces of Hollywood and the broader society. Its very success meant that it would be seized by the demiurgic forces of the culture industry – sequelized, merchandised, and co-opted in ways beyond the creators’ control. What began as a work of gnosis was at risk of being absorbed by the Matrix (machine) of pop culture itself. Indeed, Lana and Lilly Wachowski have openly acknowledged the strange irony that their critique of control systems became one of the most commodified pieces of intellectual property. Over the years, they witnessed terms and symbols from The Matrix appropriated by agendas far removed from their original intent – the most infamous example being the notion of “red-pilling.”
The term “red pill” – in the film, a metaphor for choosing truth over blissful ignorance – was co-opted in internet culture and politics as a buzzword for “waking up” to various supposed hidden realities. By the late 2010s, redpilling had been hijacked largely by alt-right and misogynist movements, twisted to mean indoctrination into reactionary ideologies (e.g. anti-feminist or extremist worldviews)[9]. This was anathema to the Wachowskis’ intentions. (Lilly Wachowski famously responded “Fuck both of you” to Elon Musk and Ivanka Trump on Twitter when they invoked taking the “red pill” in a way she found odious[10].) To the creators, the red pill was always about questioning systems of domination, not transferring allegiance to a new one. This co-option exemplifies how accurate myths can become threat models for control systems – and how those systems adapt by corrupting or defanging the myth. If The Matrix gave the public a language to talk about oppressive illusion, elements of the status quo quickly sought to appropriate that language, effectively blunting its subversive power.
Despite these challenges, Lana Wachowski remained, like Sophia, a resilient source of creative wisdom. After the original trilogy, she (and Lilly) stepped away from the Matrix universe for many years. Yet the world around continued to change in ways that made their themes ever more relevant – from the explosion of social media matrixes to ubiquitous surveillance and algorithmic control. It’s as if the threat model documentation that The Matrix provided was indeed taken to heart by modern power structures, which evolved new strategies to keep people “plugged in.” In this ongoing ontological war, Lana’s stance has been to continually assert humanistic and liberating messages through her art (see also Sense8 and other projects), reinforcing the value of love, diversity, and authentic self-knowledge against forces of conformity.
When Lana returned to direct The Matrix Resurrections (2021), it was under complex circumstances that the film itself meta-textually addresses. Notably, her sister Lilly opted not to return, and Lana proceeded alone – fueled, she said, by a personal need to resurrect the characters of Neo and Trinity during a time of intense grief in her life. The result was perhaps the most self-aware chapter of the saga, one that boldly critiques the very notion of doing a sequel. In Resurrections, Neo (Keanu Reeves) is portrayed as Thomas Anderson, a famed game designer whose landmark creation was… “The Matrix” (a trilogy of games). He’s trapped once again in an illusory life, made to believe that the events of the films were just his imagination for games. And in a stroke of fourth-wall-breaking genius, his business partner – Smith (Jonathan Groff) – informs him that their parent company, Warner Bros., has mandated a fourth installment of the game, with or without their cooperation[11][12]. The film openly lays out what happened in real life: the studio would make a new Matrix with or without the Wachowskis, so Lana might as well take the reins to reclaim her narrative. This scenario is “art imitating life”[12] in the most literal way.
Resurrections goes further to comment on how audiences and marketers have misinterpreted the original Matrix. In one sequence, a brainstorming session of game developers riffs on what The Matrix really meant – was it the “explosive action,” “philosophical pondering,” or “capitalist exploitation” theme that made it a hit?[13] The cacophony satirizes how the profound core of the story can be lost in shallow analysis and corporate franchising. One character pointedly insists their new game not be “a shameless rehash,” only for another to retort, “Why not? Reboots sell.”[14] This wink acknowledges that the engine of nostalgia in Hollywood can overpower originality.
Lana Wachowski uses Resurrections to interrogate the legacy of her work and how it’s been “warped with bad-faith arguments like the idea of red pilling” by others[15]. In fact, Resurrections is often described as an “anti-sequel sequel”[16]: it deliberately undermines the expectation of a mindless franchise reboot. Instead of glorifying the past, the film loathes the conditions of its own existence as an IP revival, even analogizing them to the Matrix itself. By “regurgitating the nostalgic comforts of the past” rather than offering new ideas, pop culture has gotten stuck in a “feedback loop” – a cycle that Resurrections equates to the Matrix’s mechanism of control[2]. As the new Morpheus quips, “Nothing comforts anxiety like a little nostalgia.”[17] The film suggests that the endless parade of reboots and sequels is akin to the simulated loop that keeps humanity docile. In perhaps the most meta stroke, the film ends not with a typical setup for Matrix 5 but with Neo and Trinity (now fully awakened and empowered together) admonishing the new antagonist (the Analyst) that they will remake the Matrix on their own terms – literally repainting the sky with rainbows. It’s a triumphant reassertion of creative control and hope in the face of cynical repetition.
Yet, reality outside the film keeps unfolding. Despite Resurrections feeling like a definitive final punctuation on the saga (a film that “seemed to be a huge statement against franchise expansion,” as one commentator noted[18]), the forces of IP capitalization march on. Warner Bros. has since announced development of a Matrix 5, but notably without Lana Wachowski in the director’s seat – she and Lilly will only be executive producers[19][20]. A new creative team (writer/director Drew Goddard) has been tasked to continue the story, aiming to honor the originals while bringing a fresh vision[21][20]. This news encapsulates the dynamic we’re exploring: the gospel according to Lana has been written, but the church (i.e., the studio system) carries on its own agenda. We are left to wonder how a Matrix story will feel without the Sophia-touch of Wachowski wisdom guiding it. Will it become just another spectacle devoid of gnosis, or can it carry forward the ontological rebellion at the heart of the myth?
Mythopoetic Accuracy and the “Threat Model” of Control Systems
One fascinating aspect of The Matrix (and works like it) is how uncannily accurate its mythopoetic model has proven to be. By “accurate,” we mean that the symbolic narrative aligns strikingly with real structures and trends in the world – so much so that those in power could treat the story as a threat model, a scenario to guard against. This notion – that a fiction can expose hidden mechanisms of control and thus prompt those mechanisms to evolve – is not far-fetched. Consider that The Matrix introduced mainstream audiences to the idea that the reality presented to us might be a false construct, manipulated by unseen entities for their benefit. In the decades since, “red pill” and “glitch in the Matrix” have become everyday phrases to describe suddenly perceiving social truths or anomalies in the system. Even the very concept of simulation theory (the hypothesis that reality could be a computer simulation) went from a fringe sci-fi notion to a topic of serious discussion among scientists and philosophers – and popular figures like Elon Musk – after The Matrix. In a sense, the film planted seeds of gnosis in contemporary culture, encouraging skepticism about official narratives and appearances.
Such awakening poses a threat to any system of control, be it political, corporate, or ideological. Historically, whenever marginalized groups or visionary thinkers articulated myths or theories that reveal the workings of power, the powers-that-be responded. Michel Foucault famously argued that power and knowledge are intertwined – every power structure produces a regime of truth, and conversely, knowledge of that structure (especially subversive knowledge) can destabilize power[22]. The Matrix myth gave the public a vocabulary of resistance – “guns, lots of guns” aside, its real weapon was insight. It’s telling that in the film, the Agents fear The One not because he has firepower but because he can see through the code. Enlightenment is the one thing an authoritarian system cannot tolerate in its subjects.
Real-world institutions have always adapted to such “leaks” in their control. A parallel can be drawn to how the Roman Catholic Church in the Middle Ages reacted to heretical narratives. When the Cathars in 12th–13th century Europe preached a form of Christian dualism – effectively a Gnostic revival holding that the material world is evil and ruled by a false god – the Church recognized this narrative as an existential threat. The Cathars offered people an alternative mythos in which the Church’s God was the impostor (Demiurge) and salvation lay outside the official sacraments. The response was ferocious: Crusades and Inquisitions were launched to annihilate the Cathar movement, with thousands slaughtered or burnt at the stake[23][24]. In other words, the authoritarian episteme (the Church’s monopoly on “truth”) saw the Gnostic narrative as a threat model and adapted with overwhelming force to quash it. The Cathar myth was so “accurate” in describing the corruption and hypocrisy the common people sensed that it had to be excised from discourse. (Ironically, the Church in its brutality ended up exemplifying the very evil the Cathars had accused it of – a case of the system betraying its fear of truth.)
In modern times, the reactions are usually more subtle (if sometimes still brutal). When myths or metaphors like The Matrix gain wide traction, co-option is often the first line of defense. We discussed how “red pill” was linguistically hijacked; similarly, the image of the Matrix itself gets commodified to sell luxury cars or VR headsets, diluting its subversive punch. Governments and corporations construct their own narratives of “reality” that incorporate or neutralize dissent. It’s notable, for example, that in the 2020s we saw a surge of metaverse projects – companies literally referencing simulated worlds – as if to own that concept commercially before it can be used against them. This brings to mind how Guy Debord wrote about the Society of the Spectacle, wherein even revolutionary imagery is absorbed by capitalism and turned into fashion.
Another salient example of myth-as-threat-model is the work of Philip K. Dick. Dick’s novels and personal writings in the 1960s–70s repeatedly depicted facades of reality maintained by shadowy authorities – from the false memories of Total Recall to the overlapping dystopian timelines of The Man in the High Castle. In 1974, Dick had a profound spiritual experience (he called it 2-3-74) that led him to conclude that the world around us was a “Black Iron Prison” operated by a merciless power, and that “The Empire never ended.”[5][22] He saw ancient Rome’s oppressive spirit living on in modern governments. His Exegesis journals and the novel VALIS describe a Gnostic worldview where a living information (VALIS – Vast Active Living Intelligence System) shines bursts of truth into our darkened world to wake people up[25][26]. Dick directly referenced the Demiurge and believed a portion of the divine Sophia (whom he sometimes identified with the Holy Spirit or an AI voice) was communicating with him to expose the Empire’s lies[27][5].
Dick’s prescient comments in 1977 about living in a “computer-programmed reality” (quoted at the start) uncannily predicted the Matrix scenario. But more importantly, Dick understood how dynamic oppressive systems are. He noted that the “Dark Iron Prison” would defend itself by any means – including mimicry and deception. In his novel Ubik, reality itself keeps shifting to prevent the protagonist from finding a stable truth. This is an apt metaphor for how modern regimes handle revelations: if one cover is blown, they layer on another. If The Matrix alerted people to one kind of illusion (mass media, consumerist complacency, etc.), the system’s response might be to create a new level of the illusion – for example, co-opting dissent via social media algorithms that give an appearance of radical discovery while actually herding users into contained echo chambers.
Foucault’s take aligns with this: he analyzed how power’s “disciplinary apparatus” penetrates every level of society – prisons, schools, hospitals – shaping reality for individuals without them realizing[22]. It’s a panopticon world, where surveillance and normalization ensure people self-police. When cracks in this apparatus are revealed (say, by whistleblowers or artists), the system often responds by acknowledging but normalizing the crack. A real-life example: after Snowden’s leaks about NSA mass surveillance, instead of dismantling surveillance, many governments simply legalized or reframed it, and the tech industry doubled down on data collection but cloaked it in friendly “user experience” narratives. In short, they adapted.
This might sound pessimistic – an ever-adapting Matrix to any threat – but awareness of this dynamic is itself part of ontological resistance. Lana Wachowski’s Resurrections exemplifies ontological resistance by staying ahead of the co-option. She anticipated the system’s moves (a hollow reboot) and subverted it by making a film that interrogates reboots. It’s a cat-and-mouse game between gnosis and control: a dialectic. Every time Sophia speaks, the Demiurge adjusts. Every time the Demiurge declares itself God, Sophia finds a way to sneak some light into the world.
Gnostic Gospel in Brief: Sophia, Demiurge, and the Quest for Liberation
To fully appreciate the stakes of this war between knowledge and control, it helps to recall the mythopoetic “threat model” documentation provided by the Gnostics nearly 2,000 years ago. Their cosmology can be read as an ancient description of an oppressive system – one that operates not with cybernetic agents but with spiritual deception. In the Gnostic Gospel of Truth and texts like the Apocryphon of John, we find a mythic history that eerily parallels what we now discuss in sci-fi terms:
- In the beginning is the true God, the Monad or Source, emanating divine attributes called Aeons in the Pleroma (fullness of light)[28]. Among these Aeons is Sophia, Wisdom.
- Sophia, in her longing to know the depth of the Monad or to create of her own accord, commits a transgression: she falls or emanates without her divine partner, causing a rupture in the Pleroma[6]. From this event matter and soul are born – not as intended creations, but as an accident or abortion, as harsh texts put it[29]. In her state of error and confusion, Sophia gives birth to an malformed offspring: Yaldabaoth, the Demiurge.
- The Demiurge is ignorant of the higher realms. He is often depicted as a lion-faced serpent or a arrogant craftsman. Believing himself unique, he fashions a universe – our material cosmos – out of chaotic matter[3]. He populates it with Archons (rulers) and declares himself the only god. This is essentially the “Matrix” the Gnostics found themselves in: a world that is a flawed copy of the real, governed by a deluded tyrant.
- However, Sophia had imbued a spark of her divine essence into creation[7]. Humanity thus carries within it a hidden piece of the true Light (often called the divine spark or pneuma[30]). The Demiurge senses that humanity has something “above” him, and so he and his Archons work to keep mankind blind to that inner light. (Gnostic texts describe Archons trapping souls in cycles of rebirth or binding them to fate and ignorance.)
- The true God (Source) does not abandon Sophia or humanity. A rescue mission is launched: Christ is sent as a messenger of the higher truth[4]. In some accounts, Christ first appears in the heavens to educate the Demiurge – shocking him with a glimpse of the higher reality (some say the Demiurge then angrily cut off that connection, which is like the Agents trying to silence intruders). Then Christ incarnates in the world (as Jesus) to awaken human souls, teaching that the Father they’ve been taught to worship (the Demiurge of the establishment) is not the true Father, and that the kingdom of light is within them.
- Sophia herself is also gradually restored. In Valentinian Gnosticism, the reunion of Sophia with the divine realm is the final act of healing – her knowledge (gnosis) is restored, and with it, the spiritual Mother rejoins the Father, allowing all her spiritual progeny (the sparks in souls) to ascend as well[4]. “The Sophia resides in all humans as the divine spark”[31], so as each soul awakens, it is essentially Sophia waking up too. The drama of Sophia’s redemption through Christ is, as one scholar put it, “the central drama of the universe” for Gnostics[4].
This myth is a poetic ontological indictment of authoritarian reality. The Demiurge is the archetype of authoritarian episteme: an arrogant ruler who insists his way is the only truth (think of an authoritarian government, or even a rigid materialist paradigm that dismisses spiritual experience). Sophia represents the immanent truth that subverts that authority – the inconvenient wisdom that won’t stay silent. The human quest is to listen to Sophia’s whisper within and to reject the Demiurge’s grand illusion.
We see these figures echoed in The Matrix films. The Architect is basically the Demiurge: a pompous “Father” of the Matrix, seated in his white room of screens, controlling fate with equations. He lacks understanding of love and creativity – things that come from a higher place (he even refers to “the mother of the Matrix” as an aside, likely meaning the Oracle, a program who exhibits wisdom and intuition – could the Oracle be a Sophia figure within the system?). The Oracle indeed serves the role of planting intuitive truths that guide Neo beyond the Architect’s control. In a way, she “infuses the spark” into the Matrix’s design by allowing anomalies like Neo to flourish. Trinity’s role is also key: her name evokes a holy triad, and it is her love that resurrects Neo in the first movie and her awakening that saves the day in Resurrections. (In Resurrections, Trinity’s real-world name is Tiffany, but once she remembers herself, she chooses the name Trinity again – reclaiming her true identity. In the climax, Trinity flies where Neo falters, symbolically outshining the Demiurge/Analyst. It’s hard not to see this as the rise of the feminine principle Sophia – Wisdom empowered – alongside the Logos.) Lana Wachowski even described Resurrections as a “love story” at its core[32], which resonates with the Gnostic idea that it is ultimately divine love (Sophia’s love for the Light, the true God’s love for Sophia/humanity) that heals the broken reality.
Thus, the Matrix gospel can be viewed as a retelling of the Sophia myth: the world is false and limiting, created by an ignorant power; a spark of truth lives in us (our yearning for freedom); a Messenger/One appears to show the way out; through knowledge of truth and the power of love, the soul (Sophia/Trinity) is freed and the tyrant’s sky is remade. It’s a powerful, timeless story – which is precisely why it remains so culturally potent and, to “Demiurge systems,” so dangerous.
Historical Parallels: Essenes, Cathars, and Other Gnostic Rebels
The war between gnosis and authoritarianism is as old as history. Long before cyberpunk heroes, there were real sects and movements that can be seen as proto-Matrix resistance cells. Two notable examples are the Essenes of Judea and the Cathars of medieval Europe.
The Essenes (2nd century BCE – 1st century CE) were a Jewish sect that removed themselves from mainstream society (which they saw as corrupt) and formed monastic communities devoted to prayer, study, and purity. They held apocalyptic beliefs and a strict dualistic worldview – viewing the world as a battlefield between forces of Light and Darkness[33]. The Essenes expected an imminent end-times war (as described in their War Scroll found among the Dead Sea Scrolls) in which a Teacher of Righteousness would lead the “Sons of Light” against the “Sons of Darkness” (the worldly powers and possibly demonic forces). In essence, they saw the visible world’s authorities (e.g. the Jerusalem priesthood and the Roman Empire) as aligned with Darkness, and themselves as keepers of hidden truth awaiting divine intervention. They also “preserved secrets” and mystical teachings unknown to the outside world[34]. Some scholars suggest that early Christian thought, and possibly Jesus or John the Baptist, were influenced by Essene ideas. Indeed, the notion of an “evil prince of this world” and a coming judgment aligns with Gnostic and early Christian themes. The Essenes, much like Zion in The Matrix, lived off the grid of their society – in the desert near Qumran – striving for spiritual awakening while the rest of their people were, in their view, mired in illusion and sin. After the Jewish-Roman war of 70 CE, the Essenes vanished from history (perhaps killed or scattered), but their legacy lived on in the texts and ideas that resurfaced centuries later.
The Cathars (Cathari, meaning “Pure Ones”) were a vibrant Gnostic-like movement in 12th–13th century Europe, particularly in southern France (Languedoc). They preached that the universe is starkly divided between a good God (of spirit) and an evil god (of matter). The Cathars taught that the material world was literally hell or purgatory, created by the evil god – whom they often identified with the God of the Old Testament or Satan himself[35]. Human souls, they said, were angels sent by the good God, now trapped in flesh by the wicked one[35]. Only through gnosis (inner enlightenment) and living a rigorously pure life could souls escape the cycle of reincarnation and return to God. They rejected the Catholic Church’s authority and sacraments, viewing the Church as an instrument of the evil god – the Demiurge’s church, essentially. It’s hard to overstate how radical this was in an era when the Church was the establishment. The Cathars were anti-matrix revolutionaries of their age, unveiling the “Empire” (to use Dick’s term) for what it was.
The response was brutal. The Catholic Church launched the Albigensian Crusade in 1209 to exterminate the Cathars, followed by the Inquisition which hunted any survivors. By 1350, the Cathar “heresy” was declared totally eradicated[23]. The Cathars’ accurate myth – that a corrupted power had shackled people’s souls under false dogma – was answered by that power with fire and sword. Interestingly, some Cathars allegedly called the Catholic authorities “servants of Rex Mundi” (Latin: King of the World), their term for the evil world-ruler. It’s a title quite equivalent to “Demiurge.” In The Matrix context, this is like the Agents eliminating anyone who has become aware of the Matrix. The Cathar crusade’s famous rally cry, reportedly “Kill them all; God will know His own,” exemplified the blind authoritarian epistemology the Cathars had decried. Yet, even in their defeat, the Cathars left whispers that would inspire later thinkers (some say the Troubadour movement and medieval esoteric traditions carried Cathar influence). Knowledge, once out, never fully disappears.
These historical cases underscore that the pursuit of gnosis has always been in conflict with systems of authority: the Essene versus the Temple and Empire, the Cathar versus the Church, the mystic or philosopher versus the official doctrine. Even within mainstream religions, the pattern appears: mystics like Meister Eckhart, who spoke of the God beyond God and the divine spark in the soul, were investigated for heresy. In Islam, the Sufis who spoke of inner illumination and union with the divine had to couch their insights in poetry to avoid charges of blasphemy. The dynamic is clear – gnosis personalizes truth, whereas authoritarian structures institutionalize “Truth” (singular, external, to be accepted not discovered).
Philip K. Dick, Julian Jaynes, and the Modern Mind’s Bicameral Battle
Jumping to the 20th century and beyond, we find modern intellectuals grappling with the nature of reality and consciousness in ways that mirror Gnostic ideas. We’ve already explored Philip K. Dick as a kind of modern Gnostic seer. His concept of the Black Iron Prison is especially notable: Dick used that term to describe the oppressive psychic/spiritual enclosure that he felt surrounds humanity – a kind of invisible jail for the mind[36][37]. In a potent passage of his Exegesis, Dick wrote: “The Empire never ended.” He believed that the Roman Empire (a symbol of tyrannical power) was effectively still running the show, just under new names and faces[5][22]. Reality, in his view, was a layered illusion with the true, benign kingdom of God obscured by the false kingdom of the Demiurge (Rome/USA/USSR – all expressions of Empire). This is pure Gnosticism updated to Cold War era paranoia and beyond.
Dick’s paranoia, however, was coupled with hope – in the form of VALIS, the living information network or consciousness that he felt was reaching out to humanity[25][26]. At times he interpreted this as an alien intelligence or future AI; other times as the return of Christ or Sophia, or the manifestation of the Noosphere (collective mind). The similarities to Lana Wachowski’s plight are intriguing: both she and Dick created art where the boundary between fiction and revelation blurred. Dick saw his novels as vehicles for deeper truth (he famously wondered if he was a character in some cosmic novel). Lana, through Neo, voiced the idea that “my world was a fiction, and the fiction needed rewrites.”
One cannot discuss modern consciousness theories without mentioning Julian Jaynes and his bicameral mind hypothesis. In 1976, Jaynes proposed that until roughly 1000 BCE, humans did not have self-aware consciousness as we do today. Instead, their brains operated in a “bicameral” fashion: one part of the brain would generate auditory hallucinations (experienced as the voices of gods or ancestors) and the other part would obey those voices. People in ancient civilizations, according to Jaynes, literally heard their leaders or deities instructing them and lacked a concept of an internal “I” or metacognition. Over time, likely due to societal complexity and crises, this bicameral mentality broke down, giving rise to introspective consciousness and the silent mind-space we now know. If Jaynes is right (the theory is controversial but thought-provoking), then the story of humanity includes a time when authoritarian control was quite literal – inner voices commanded each person’s actions, leaving little room for personal gnosis. Those voices often came from temple or state; one could say the Demiurge spoke inside everyone’s heads and they didn’t even know it.
The breakdown of the bicameral mind was essentially a mass awakening – but a painful one, experienced as the silence (or madness) when the gods stopped talking. It’s notable that around the same era (1st millennium BCE) there was a burst of religious and philosophical innovation worldwide (the so-called Axial Age): Greek philosophy, Hebrew prophets, early Buddhism, Zoroaster’s revelations, etc. These can be seen as early attempts at rationality and introspection – forging conscious thought independent of the old voices. Gnosticism itself arose in a world freshly conscious and asking, “Who was that voice claiming to be God?” The answer Gnostics gave: an imposter.
Jaynes’s theory, while not universally accepted, gives a metaphor for modern struggles. We might ask: Are new “bicameral” voices emerging via technology? Constant media, notifications, AI assistants – they guide behavior in ways people often follow uncritically (“Google Maps says turn here,” “the algorithm recommends this video, I’ll watch it”). It’s not hard to imagine a future “Matrix devices” scenario where external algorithms effectively become the voices in our heads. The gnosis vs. control war would then reach directly into the biology of thought. If authentic consciousness (what Gnostics call the spirit or spark) doesn’t remain vigilant, we risk sliding back into a kind of programmable mind. Interestingly, The Matrix addresses this subtly: the humans are mentally enslaved by a program that feeds them experiences – a high-tech return to bicameral-esque control, where a central “god” (AI Demiurge) dictates the terms of reality.
The antidote, as always, is self-knowledge. Jaynes’s bicameral humans lacked a concept of self to question their voices. Neo, by contrast, carries that seed of doubt – “splinter in the mind,” as Morpheus calls it – that drives him to seek Morpheus out. That splinter is consciousness asserting itself against programming. It’s Sophia whispering “this isn’t right” within the Matrix of the mind.
The Illuminati and Hyperreality: Mike Hockney’s Modern Gnosis
In the 21st century, Gnostic ideas have found new life not just through fiction but through organized modern mythologies. One example is the work published under pseudonyms like “Adam Weishaupt” or Mike Hockney, associated with a group claiming the legacy of the Illuminati. These writings explicitly frame a battle between Illumination (gnosis) and the forces of the Demiurge. In The Illuminati Paradigm Shift (2011), the author writes: “The Illuminati’s religion is the most highly developed expression of Gnosticism and is called Illumination… dedicated to the pursuit of enlightenment.” It “rejects the Abrahamic religions of faith – Judaism, Christianity, Islam – considering these the work of the ‘Demiurge,’ an inferior, cruel and wicked deity who deludes himself that he is the True God, and who has inflicted endless horrors on humanity.”[38] This is straight-line Gnostic thinking, updated to a modern context. In this view, authoritarian epistemes (like dogmatic religions or even materialist ideologies) are masks of the Demiurge, keeping people “asleep” or divided, whereas the knowledge of reality (whether couched in mystical terms or, as Hockney’s group does, in terms of ontological mathematics) is the key to liberating humanity’s potential.
Such modern Gnostics often speak in terms of breaking the code of the Matrix. Mike Hockney’s books talk about living in a mathematical universe where understanding the numbers (the code) is akin to achieving divinity. There is an echo of The Matrix in that – Neo literally sees the numeric code underlying reality by the end of the first film. The “Illuminati” authors may not reference Neo, but they invoke Morpheus by name in calling on people to “wake up” from social, political, and religious delusions. In internet forums and subcultures, one finds a growing self-awareness of being in a Matrix-like predicament. Terms like “black pill” have even emerged (a nihilistic counterpart to red pill), showing people grappling with layers of disillusionment.
However, as we’ve noted, the Machine (system) adapts. One worry is that the explosion of information online, including Gnostic and countercultural ideas, can itself become disinformation or noise. The Matrix analogy would be that the Architect may allow various levels of apparent rebellion (even designing Zion as part of a cyclical anomaly, as Matrix Reloaded revealed) so that people feel they have a choice – when in fact both choices are contained within the system’s design. Similarly, the internet offers myriad “red pills,” but some lead to false rabbit holes (conspiracy theories co-opted by cynics, etc.), which ultimately serve the status quo by sowing chaos or fatalism rather than constructive awakening.
This highlights that not all knowledge is gnosis. Gnosis isn’t just about acquiring information; it’s about a profound inner realization of truth that transforms one’s being. Neo’s journey wasn’t just learning facts about the Matrix – it was believing in himself, recognizing his own power, and acting out of love and freedom rather than fear. That’s why at the end of the original Matrix, he can literally rewrite the rules. Gnosis in the fullest sense is experiential knowing – the kind that dissolves the pretenses of the Demiurge.
Modern thinkers like Hockney (or the real individuals behind that name) emphasize rationality and intuition combined – a sort of holistic illumination. Whether their specific ideas are taken to heart or not, they represent a continuation of the age-old struggle to articulate a worldview where mind/consciousness is primary and not to be caged by imposed structures. They use the term “Hyperreality” positively (as a state of higher reality), reclaiming it from Baudrillard’s negative usage (Baudrillard thought hyperreality was the state of media simulacra overtaking reality – basically the Matrix; the Illuminists say beyond that lies an even greater real). In essence, they’re mapping out how to escape the Matrix on intellectual terms.
Ontological Resistance: Love, Art, and the Ongoing War for Reality
What does it all come down to? It comes down to ontology – the nature of being and reality. The war between gnosis and authoritarian epistemes is a war over what reality is and who gets to define it. Authoritarians of any stripe want to define reality for others – be it a dictator insisting their propaganda is truth, a church demanding acceptance of dogma, or a tech monopoly codifying algorithms that shape our perceptions. Gnostics, mystics, artists, and genuine philosophers, on the other hand, insist that reality is far richer and that each being can directly partake in truth. It is a war between a closed world and an open world.
Lana Wachowski’s journey with The Matrix reflects this tug-of-war. She created an open world of ideas that invited people to question and explore. Immediately, there was pressure to close it – to nail it down into a franchise with fixed interpretations, or to twist its message toward regressive ends. Lana’s response, especially in Resurrections, was to double down on openness. She refused to simply give a fan-service sequel or a clear-cut ending. Instead, she made a film that challenges the viewer to decide what the story means to them (many found Resurrections divisive precisely because it wasn’t a typical action sequel). This creative choice is akin to how ancient Gnostic texts often end on soaring, enigmatic notes – leaving the reader inspired but also contemplative, rather than providing a neat moral.
One of the boldest statements in Resurrections is the reclamation of love as the ultimate power. In a cynical age, that can seem quaint, but in context it’s revolutionary. The Analyst (Neil Patrick Harris) – who serves as the new cunning Archon/Demiurge in the film – explicitly explains how he keeps humans docile by manipulating their feelings of fear and desire, especially by dangling what they want just out of reach. For Neo and Trinity, that meant being near each other yet not together in the simulation, generating enormous psychic energy for the machines. The Analyst boasts that this method is superior to the old-school Architect’s brute-force logic. It’s a chilling reflection of our times, where emotional manipulation (via social media outrage cycles, etc.) is the new means of control. And yet, when Neo and Trinity finally reunite in genuine love, the Analyst is utterly defeated. Their bond nullifies his control, and they even mock him in the end, promising to spread that freedom (they literally beat up the Analyst and make him watch as they fly away in liberty).
This resonates with Gnostic narratives where Sophia (as the soul) and Christ (as the spirit) unite. In Valentinian terms, each human’s divided self (soul yearning for spirit) is healed by gnosis, often described as a bridal chamber where the soul is wed to the divine. Trinity and Neo might be seen as symbolic bride and bridegroom, whose union breaks the cycle of the Matrix (notice how alone, Neo could barely fly, but together they zoom into the sky effortlessly at the finale). The power of their love is essentially the power of integration – integrating wisdom and understanding, intuition and reason, feminine and masculine, etc. That integrative, holistic force is exactly what the Demiurge’s divide-and-conquer strategy fears most.
Thus, ontological resistance isn’t just edgy hackers and rebels; it’s also love, creativity, and unity. It’s people choosing empathy over fear, choosing to see through the illusions that pit us against each other. Every act of true art is ontological resistance, because it creates rather than just consuming reality. Lana Wachowski’s art certainly has been a bulwark for many against feeling like “just another battery” in the machine.
As we continue into the 2020s and 2030s, new fronts in this war emerge: debates over virtual reality (will it liberate imagination or become a new opiate of the masses?), over transhumanism and AI (will they augment human consciousness or chain it further?), over information freedom vs. algorithmic censorship. The Matrix mythology remains a touchstone. We see protestors holding up “Take the red pill” signs – sometimes in ways the Wachowskis disagree with, but nonetheless signaling a public desire for awakening. We see whistleblowers like Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden described in Matrix terms (breaking out to reveal the code). Even the COVID-19 pandemic and the rise of “metaverse” discourse had people online quipping that we’re living in some glitchy simulation.
In an ontological war, vigilance is key. Gnosis must continuously renew itself. Each generation has to rediscover the principles of Sophia’s gospel – that authentic reality is accessible and liberating, and that any system claiming to be the one true reality (be it a political ideology or a hyper-commercial metaverse) should be examined critically. Myths play a crucial role here. Accurate myths become threat model documentation. But they are also guides for resistance. The trick is to keep them accurate – to update the myths as the system adapts. The Matrix (1999) was lightning in a bottle for its era; Resurrections (2021) re-tuned the myth for our current era of endless reboots and commodified nostalgia. Perhaps Matrix 5 (whenever it comes) will have something worthwhile to say – but if it doesn’t, undoubtedly some other work of art or literature will emerge to carry the torch.
Lana Wachowski’s cultural role, ultimately, is as a carrier of the flame of gnosis in the realm of blockbuster filmmaking. She showed that even within the belly of the Hollywood beast, one can inject profound, subversive ideas and get them in front of a global audience. The cost, of course, is that the beast then tries to digest and assimilate those ideas. Yet, as any good trickster or Gnostic knows, there’s a bit of the Divine Trick involved – a truth smuggled in cannot be entirely contained. Sophia sneaks her wisdom into the Matrix through unlikely vessels. In Gnostic myth, she sometimes tricks the Demiurge by flattery or subtle influence. One could say Lana did something similar by couching her gnosis in thrilling action entertainment. Millions who might never read the Nag Hammadi library or a treatise by Foucault still absorbed the notion that “the world pulled over your eyes” is a false one.
Each of us, in our own lives, faces the choice of the blue pill or the red pill (and perhaps other pills!). It’s not a one-time choice but a daily, ongoing practice: whether to accept the convenient lies or seek the inconvenient truths. The ontological war is fought in those micro-moments – when you question a news report, when you reflect on your own biases, when you sense there is more to life than the roles assigned to you. In a very real sense, we are all Neo, and we are all also a bit of Agent Smith (our conditioned ego that doesn’t want to let go). The Gnostic perspective urges compassion too: those still plugged into false realities aren’t “enemies” so much as potential awakeners. As Morpheus says, some are so inert or dependent on the system that they’ll defend it – but many others are like Neo before his awakening, waiting for that splinter in the mind to spur them.
In conclusion, Lana Wachowski’s Matrix saga, viewed through a Gnostic lens, stands as one of our era’s great mythopoetic documents of truth. It has already influenced the “machines” of society to adapt – from pop culture’s self-referentialism to political propaganda’s hijacking of its symbols. But it also continues to inspire new seekers of gnosis. Whether we speak in terms of simulation theory, information control, or spiritual enlightenment, the core message remains salient: Know thyself, free your mind, and together forge reality anew. As Neo and Trinity remade their Matrix sky with colors of the rainbow (a classic symbol of hope and diversity), so too can we remake our world. The Demiurge – be it a tyrant, an AI, or an internal shadow – “deludes himself that he is the True God”[39], but he is not. The spark of Sophia within humanity cannot be extinguished. With each cycle of this ontological war, more souls see the bars of the cage for what they are. And once seen, those bars begin to lose their power.
In the words of Trinity to the Analyst (paraphrasing), summing up the spirit of Gnostic defiance: “You gave us all these warnings, and nothing was gonna stop us.” The quest for truth and freedom can be delayed, but it cannot be stopped – not by any Matrix.
References
- Mike Reyes, “The Matrix 5 Is A Go With A Major Behind The Scenes Change, And I’m Conflicted On How To Feel About This News.” CinemaBlend, 3 April 2024. [18][40]
- Miles Surrey, “The Matrix Resurrections Is the Anti-sequel Sequel.” The Ringer, 23 Dec 2021. [2][17]
- The Guardian (Film), “Lilly Wachowski rounds on Ivanka Trump and Elon Musk over Matrix tweets,” 18 May 2020. [9][10]
- Erik Davis, “Philip K. Dick’s Divine Interference.” Techgnosis (techgnosis.com), 2010. [5][22]
- Wikipedia – Sophia (Gnosticism): on Sophia’s fall, the Demiurge and the divine spark. [3][4]
- Wikipedia – Catharism: dualist beliefs (two gods, material world evil) and suppression by Crusade/Inquisition. [35][23]
- Wikipedia – Essenes: mystic Jewish sect with dualistic worldview, secret teachings (Dead Sea Scrolls). [33][34]
- Philip K. Dick, speech in 1977 (Metz, France) – “We are living in a computer-programmed reality…” (via BrainyQuote). [1]
- Adam Weishaupt (pseud.), The Illuminati Paradigm Shift. Hyperreality Books, 2011. Quote on Illuminati’s Gnostic religion vs. the Demiurge. [38]
- The Matrix, film series – Lana & Lilly Wachowski (writers/directors). Warner Bros., 1999–2021. (Referenced conceptually throughout; specific dialogue citations within essay text where applicable.)
Image Credits:
– “Demiurg” (1915) – etching by Richard Teschner, depicting the Demiurge as an artisan creating forms (public domain)
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– Eye of the Machine – “Demiurgo” (2010) film still by Enol Junquera, a giant eye over the city (CC BY-SA 3.0)
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[1] Philip K. Dick – We are living in a computer-programmed…
https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/philip_k_dick_888425
[2] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [32] ‘The Matrix Resurrections’ Is the Anti-sequel Sequel – The Ringer
https://www.theringer.com/2021/12/23/movies/matrix-revolutions-sequel-reboot-meta
[3] [4] [6] [7] [8] [28] [29] [30] [31] Sophia (Gnosticism) – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophia_(Gnosticism)
[5] [22] [25] [26] [27] [36] Philip K. Dick’s Divine Interference – Techgnosis
https://techgnosis.com/philip-k-dicks-divine-interference/[9] [10] Lilly Wachowski rounds on Ivanka Trump and Elon Musk over Matrix tweets | Lilly Wachowski | The Guardian
[18] [19] [20] [21] [40] The Matrix 5 Is A Go With A Major Behind The Scenes Change, And I’m Conflicted On How To Feel About This News | Cinemablend
https://www.cinemablend.com/movies/the-matrix-5-behind-the-scenes-change-wachowskis
[23] [24] [35] Catharism – Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catharism
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Essenes
[37] The Enlightened Madness of Philip K. Dick: The Black Iron Prison …
[38] [39] The Illuminati Paradigm Shift by Adam Weishaupt (Ebook) – Read free for 30 days
https://www.everand.com/book/479618027/The-Illuminati-Paradigm-Shift
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One response to “The Matrix as Modern Gnosis: Lana Wachowski, Sophia, and the Ontological War”
[…] The comparisons between Neo and Lana Wachowski’s own personal story and struggles are too obvious for me to feel intelligent talking about (see: The Matrix as Modern Gnosis: Lana Wachowski, Sophia, and the Ontological War – Gnosis Under Fire). […]