Jules: So he had a spoon?
Vincent: No, man, I’m telling you, the whole point was that there wasn’t a spoon.
Jules: So what did the motherfucker have in his hand?
Vincent: A spoon.
Jules: Well there you go then, he had a spoon. So don’t go tellin’ me he didn’t have a spoon.
Vincent: No, you misunderstand.
Jules: All right, motherfucker, enlighten me.
Vincent: See, the guy had what looked like a spoon, but there was no spoon. It was just a representation of a spoon. But it wasn’t real.
Jules: Now hold on. It looked like a spoon?
Jules: Did he hold it? I mean did it have, you know, mass?
Jules: So if it was a physical object that fucking looked like a spoon, how was it not a spoon?
Vincent: All right, see man, the Matrix was like this – what do you call it – other plane of reality, sort of. And if you knew that you could interact with it in ways it wasn’t designed to be interacted with.
Jules: So you could make spoons not be spoons?
Vincent: No, man, no. The spoon was a symbol. It was just an object in the Matrix that didn’t really exist outside of the Matrix, unlike the people. So it could be acted on.
Jules: So it’s like Plato’s allegory of reality being the shadows on a cave wall, then.
Jules: Except the shadows weren’t even real. It was more like a shadow of a dog, but the guy was just making a fucking dog puppet with his hands and calling it a dog and, what, fooling most people?
Vincent: There it is.
Jules: So the whole fucking Matrix is really just Plato with fucking dog puppets?
Vincent: Pretty much, man.
Jules: That shit is weak sauce.
Vincent: Tell me about it. Now can we finish up here and get this case to Mr. Wallace?
Jules: Mr. Wallace ain’t no fucking dog shadow.
Vincent: You got that right. Neither are these waffles. These things are good.
(Vincent and Jules are, of course, property of Tarintino. The Matrix is property of some dog shaped shadow on a cave wall, I think. The words here are mine.)