"Jack Vance - Assault on a City" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

kind of wiring."
"It's been done. In fact, the gunk producers have gone far beyond:
brain-wiring plus a percept equals gunk."
"Oh. That's what gunk is. I thought it was a hallucinatory drug."
"It's controlled hallucination. The more you turn up the voltage, the
more vivid it becomes. To the gunker life is gray; the colors come back
when he dials up the gunk. Real life is a dismal interlude between the
sumptuous experiences of gunk . . . Oh, it's seductive!"
"Have you tried it?"
Waldo shrugged. "It's illegalтАФbut most everybody tries it. Are you
interested?"
Alice shook her head. "In the first place, I'm not wired. In the second
placeтАФbut no matter." She became busy with her notes.
Waldo asked, "What are you writing about now? Gunk?"
"Just an idea or two."
"Such as?"
"You probably wouldn't be interested."
"Oh, but I would! I'd be interested in all your notes."
"You might not understand them."
"Try me."
Alice shrugged and read, " 'Urbanites as explorers of inner space:
i.e.тАФsubjectivity. The captains: psychologists. The pioneers:
abstractionists. The creed: perceptiveness, control of ideas. The fuglemen:
critics. The paragons: the "well-read man," the "educated listener," the
"perceptive spectator."
"'Precursive to gunk: theater-attendance, percepts, music, books: all
urbanite cult-objects.
"'Abstraction: the work of urbanity. Vicarious experience: the life-flow
of urbanity. Subjectivity: the urban mind-flow.'"
She looked at Waldo. "These are only a few rough notes. Do you want to
hear any more?"
Waldo sat with a grim expression. "Do you really believe all that?"
"'Belief is not quite the right word." Alice reflected a moment. "I've
simply arranged a set of facts into a pattern. For an urbanite the
implications go very farтАФin fact, very far indeed. But let's talk of
something else. Have you ever visited Nicobar?"
"No," said Waldo, looking off across the Baund.
"I've heard that the Sunken Temple is very interesting. I'd like to try to
decipher the glyphs."
"Indeed?" Waldo lifted his eyebrows. "Are you acquainted with Ancient
Gondwanese?"
"Of course not! But glyphs usually have a symbolic derivation. Don't
stare at those lights, Waldo; they'll put you to sleep."
"What?" Waldo sat up in his chair. "Nothing of the sort. They're just the
lights of a carousel."
"I know, but passing behind those pillars they fluctuate at about ten
cycles a second, or so I'd estimate."
"And what of that?"
"The lights send impulses to your brain which create electrical waves.
At that particular frequency, if the waves are strong enough or continue