"Stanley G. Weinbaum - Pygmalion's Spectacles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinbaum Stanley G)

irony is that even reality is a dream."

"Cracked!" thought Dan again.

"Or so," concluded the other, "says the philosopher Berkeley."
"Berkeley?" echoed Dan. His head was clearing; memories of a sophomore course in Elementary
Philosophy drifted back. "Bishop Berkeley, eh?"

"You know him, then? The philosopher of IdealismтАФno?тАФthe one who argues that we do not see, feel,
hear, taste the object, but that we have only the sensation of seeing, feeling, hearing, tasting."

"IтАФsort of recall it."

"Hah! But sensations are mental phenomena. They exist in our minds. How, then, do we know that the
objects themselves do not exist only in our minds?" He waved again at the light-flecked buildings. "You
do not see that wall of masonry; you perceive only a sensation, a feeling of sight. The rest you interpret."

"You see the same thing," retorted Dan.

"How do you know I do? Even if you knew that what I call red would not be green could you see
through my eyesтАФeven if you knew that, how do you know that I too am not a dream of yours?"

Dan laughed. "Of course nobody knows anything. You just get what information you can through the
windows of your five senses, and then make your guesses. When they're wrong, you pay the penalty."
His mind was clear now save for a mild headache. "Listen," he said suddenly. "You can argue a reality
away to an illusion; that's easy. But if your friend Berkeley is right, why can't you take a dream and make
it real? If it works one way, it must work the other."

The beard waggled; elf-bright eyes glittered queerly at him. "All artists do that," said the old man softly.
Dan felt that something more quivered on the verge of utterance.

"That's an evasion," he grunted. "Anybody can tell the difference between a picture and the real thing, or
between a movie and life."

"But," whispered the other, "the realer the better, no? And if one could make aтАФa movieтАФvery real
indeed, what would you say then?"

"Nobody can, though."

The eyes glittered strangely again. "I can!" he whispered. "I did!"

"Did what?"

"Made real a dream." The voice turned angry. "Fools! I bring it here to sell to Westman, the camera
people, and what do they say? 'It isn't clear. Only one person can use it at a time. It's too expensive.'
Fools! Fools!"

"Huh?"

"Listen! I'm Albert LudwigтАФProfessor Ludwig." As Dan was silent, he continued, "It means nothing to