Morpheus takes Neo to the Oracle, who appears to be a 50-year old Black woman and has the power of foresight. She reviews Neo and tells him that he has the "gift", but appeared to be waiting for something—"Your next life, maybe." Neo infers incorrectly that the Oracle has said that he is not the One. The Oracle warns him that an event will come where he will have to choose between his own life or that of Morpheus, and that one of them will die.
Oracle: OK, now I'm supposed to say, "Hmm, that's interesting, but..." then you say...
Neo: ..."but what?"
Oracle: But... you already know what I'm going to tell you.
Neo: I'm not The One.
Oracle: Sorry, kid. You got the gift, but it looks like you're waiting for something.
Neo: What?
Oracle: Your next life, maybe. Who knows? That's the way these things go.
She herself claims that she lacks the ability to see past her own choice, explaining that choices are not understood by the person who makes them.
Morpheus: "She told you exactly what you needed to hear, that's all. Neo, sooner or later you're going to realize, just as I did, there's a difference between knowing the path and walking the path."
inferred? hmmmm. Any connotations to "next life", as in next stage of his current life? hmmmm. Also, it was thru saving Morpheus (neither died), (was she merely pointing the way to the truth?), that he was able to "discover" he was The One. Was his "self-discovery" and consequent "re-birth" the "death" she was referring to?
www.answers.com/topic/neo-matrix-character
en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Oracle_%28Matrix_character%29&redirect=no
For a movie "for kids" (heh), there seems to be a whole lot of "adult oriented" philosophical references.
Any examples of this in TCTC?
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www.inthesetimes.com/comments.php?id=427_0_1_0_C&NF=1
As Henry Miller always admonished and Don Juan Matus affirmed, you have to lose your reason in order to get in touch with that part of you that you don't even believe exists.
Dominick Mastroserio
(gotta love Vonnegut)
It must be kind of spooky to be a student or teacher in a university as great as this one, with its libraries and laboratories and lecture halls, while knowing it is within the borders of a nation where wisdom, reason, knowledge and truth no longer apply.
I realize that some of you may have come in hopes of hearing tips on how to become a professional writer. I say to you, “If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts. But do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites, standing for absolutely nothing. All they do is show you’ve been to college.”
But actually, to practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it. Dance on your way out of here. Sing on your way out of here. Write a love poem when you get home. Draw a picture of your bed or roommate.
And hey, listen: A sappy woman sent me a letter a few years back. She knew I was sappy, too, which is to say a lifelong northern Democrat in the Franklin Delano Roosevelt mode, a friend of the working stiffs. She was about to have a baby, not mine, and wished to know if it was a bad thing to bring such a sweet and innocent creature into a world as bad as this one is. I replied that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me, besides music, was all the saints I met, who could be anywhere. By saints I meant people who behaved decently in a strikingly indecent society. Perhaps some of you are or will become saints for her child to meet.
"...and the saints, go marching in..."
, and yes, Prebe is VERY funny, for not being American, that is, heh. 
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