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I read all the philosophy papers posted on thematrix.com back in the early 21st century. They featured about 10 of them and each was relevant to the movie and its theme.

One mentioned a life of someone that was meaningless. Because, like the matrix red pill wake up, something happened to them. And they were awoken to darkness and heard a voice before realizing their entire life was just training. Every red light they stopped at would help them use the red light button in the cockpit of a fighter jet like spaceship. Or maybe all that math in high school was only there to help us figure out the physics of space.

The life program ran, and ended. Once awake in the real world, we have little time to think and are part of a larger war. Giving us only seconds to live in the real world, as we kamikaze into alien territory.

Sorry if I didn't get all that, I was like 13 then. And only read it once without ever looking further into it. Can someone tell me if that was literally a philosophy paper, or something a fan would in this day and age 'tweet'? Or is it part of a series of a philosophical book or maybe a short story from someone famous.

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    Did you see it on whatisthematrix.com ? Here is an archived version of the site's main navigation page, if that helps. – Hypnosifl Nov 4 '15 at 0:31
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    In addition, here is a later version of the site, whatisthematrix.warnerbros.com. I see there is a sub-page labeled "philosophy" here, could you take a glance at the papers and see if any of them is the one you remember? – Hypnosifl Nov 4 '15 at 1:54
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    Is it possible you're thinking of the short story Goliath? The details don't match exactly but there are similarities. You can read it online here. – Null Nov 4 '15 at 2:56
  • Ahh never thought to use the archive. Ill look into the philosophy papers. Thanks. – Richard Peter Targett Nov 4 '15 at 22:37
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Echoing Null's comment, it seems that you're thinking of the web-story "Goliath" by Neil Gaiman, originally found on Warner Bros' whatisthematrix.com website (as well as the subsequent Matrix Comics Vol. 1) and which features many of the elements you've mentioned:

Awakening to darkness and hearing a voice

I was standing in the puddle of the world, a weird, brightly coloured thing that oozed and brimmed and didn't cover the tops of my brown leather shoes (I have feet like shoeboxes. Boots have to be specially made for me. Costs me a fortune). The puddle cast a weird light upwards. In fiction, I think I would have refused to believe it was happening, wonder if I'd been drugged or if I was dreaming. In reality, hell, it had happened, and I stared up into the darkness, and then, when nothing happened, I began to walk, splashing through the liquid world, calling out, seeing if anyone was there.

Something flickered in front of me. "Hey," said a voice. The accent was American, although the intonation was odd. "Hello," I said.

Their entire life was training

The next few years passed really fast. It seemed like I spent all of them in planes of different kinds, cramped into tiny cockpits, in seats I barely fitted, flicking switches too small for my fingers.

I got Secret clearance, then I got Noble clearance, which leaves Secret clearance in the shade, and then I got Graceful clearance, which the Prime Minister himself doesn't have, by which time I was piloting flying saucers and other craft that moved with no visible means of support.

Finally he awakens to the real world

In.
Out.
It was like being born. It wasn't comfortable, or pleasant. It was the breathing carried me through it, through all the pain and the darkness and the bubbling in my lungs. I opened my eyes.
I was lying on a metal disk about eight feet across. I was naked, wet and surrounded by a sprawl of cables. They were retracting, moving away from me, like scared worms or nervous brightly coloured snakes.

And is immediately sent on a kamikaze mission against aliens

I never saw the aliens, if there were any aliens, but I saw their ship. It looked like fungus or seaweed: the whole thing was organic, an enormous glimmering thing, orbiting the moon. It looked like something you'd see growing on a rotting log, half-submerged under the sea. It was the size of Tasmania.

Two-hundred mile-long sticky tendrils were dragging asteroids of various sizes behind them. It reminded me a little of the trailing tendrils of a portuguese man o' war, that strange compound sea-creature.

They started throwing rocks at me as I got a couple of hundred thousand miles away.

My fingers were activating the missile bay, aiming at a floating nucleus, while I wondered what I was doing. I wasn't saving the world I knew. That world was imaginary: a sequence of ones and zeroes. I was saving a nightmare...

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    Thanks! I went through the philo. papers but didnt find it. This has to be the one. – Richard Peter Targett Nov 7 '15 at 19:44

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