"Нейл Стефенсон. Snow Crash (Снежная лавина, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"Anyway, there's this scene, early, where the main character wakes up
in a dumpster. The idea is to show how, you know, despondent he is-"
"That crazy energy-"
"Exactly."
"Fabulous."
"I like it. Well, he wants to replace it with a scene where the guy is
out in the desert with a bazooka, blowing up old cars in an abandoned
junkyard."
"You're kidding!"
"So we're sitting there on his fucking patio over the beach and he's
going, like, whoom! whoomi imitating this goddamn bazooka. He's thrilled by
the idea. I mean, this is a man who wants to put a bazooka in a movie. So I
think I talked him out of it."
"Nice scene. But you're right. A bazooka doesn't do the same thing as a
dumpster."
Hiro pauses long enough to get this down, then keeps walking. He
mumbles "Bigboard" again, recalls the magic map, pinpoints his own location,
and then reads off the name of this nearby screenwriter. Later on, he can do
a search of industry publica
фi
NEAL STEPHENSON
tions to find out what script this guy is working on, hence the name of
this mystery director with a fetish for bazookas. Since this whole
conversation has come to him via his computer, he's just taken an audio tape
of the whole thing. Later, he can process it to disguise the voices, then
upload it to the Library, cross-referenced under the director's name. A
hundred struggling screenwriters will call this conversation up, listen to
it over and over until they've got it memorized, paying Hiro for the
privilege, and within a few weeks, bazooka scripts will flood the director's
office. Whoomt
The Rock Star Quadrant is almost too bright to look at. Rock star
avatars have the hairdos that rock stars can only wear in their dreams. Hiro
scans it briefly to see if any of his friends are in there, but it's mostly
parasites and has-beens. Most of the people Hiro knows are will-bes or
wannabes.
The Movie Star Quadrant is easier to look at. Actors love to come here
because in The Black Sun, they always look as good as they do in the movies.
And unlike a bar or club in Reality, they can get into this place without
physically having to leave their mansion, hotel suite, ski lodge, private
airline cabin, or whatever. They can strut their stuff and visit with their
friends without any exposure to kidnappers, paparazzi, scnpt-flingers,
assassins, cxspouses, autograph brokers, process servers, psycho fans,
marriage proposals, or gossip columnists.
He gets up off the bar stool and resumes his slow orbit, scanning the
Nipponese Quadrant. It's a lot of guys in suits, as usual. Some of them are
talking to gringos from the Industry. And a large part of the quadrant, in
the back corner, has been screened off by a temporary partition.
Bigboard again. Hiro figures out which tables are behind the partition,
starts reading off the names. The only one he recognizes immediately is an
American: L. Bob Rife, the cabletelevision monopolist. A very big name to