He's raised his truth deflector shields, Captain.

In case you haven't noticed, geeks are very protective of the bits of culture they have assimilated. They often feel that they're poorly represented by pop culture as it is, so when a movie or TV show or anything else comes along that they identify with, they cling to it tenaciously through both thick and thin.

Once they have their geek claws into something, that attachment continues through spin-offs and sequels, sometimes to the geeks' own detriment. They love their chosen bits of culture so much that they will often simply refuse to acknowledge how bad a sequel is, sticking by it based solely on the fact that it has the name Star Trek or Star Wars -- or, yes, even The Matrix -- on it. This, truly, is the only way that one can explain how Star Trek: Voyager lasted beyond the pilot episode.

Also, I have to call into question the geek world's affection for The Matrix. I mean, on the surface, it makes sense... why wouldn't a geek who can't climb a flight of stairs without getting winded, but who can configure an Apache server in his sleep, not enjoy a movie in which a guy can pull off incredible feats of martial arts and acrobatics based on the dexterity of his mind and not his physical body? But then, you have to realize that the humans in the movie are trying to destroy the Matrix. Which would leave them with Zion, where they'd just be geeks again, and where (as Reloaded has shown us), when the young, sexy, glistening, part-time model people start partying, the older and unattractive people mysteriously disappear.

I can only assume that the geeks are pulling for the agents in these movies, then. That's the only way it makes sense.