451 по фаренгейту
The Sieve and the Sand
"Sonowdoyouseewhybooksarehatedandfeared? Theyshowtheporesinthefaceoflife. Thecomfortablepeoplewantonlywaxmoonfaces,poreless,hairless,expressionless. Wearelivinginatimewhenflowersaretryingtoliveonflowers,insteadofgrowingongoodrainandblackloam. Evenfireworks,foralltheirprettiness,comefromthechemistryoftheearth. Yetsomehowwethinkwecangrow,feedingonflowersandfireworks,withoutcompletingthecyclebacktoreality. DoyouknowthelegendofHerculesandAntaeus,thegiantwrestler,whosestrengthwasincrediblesolongashestoodfirmlyontheearth. Butwhenhewasheld,rootless,inmid-air,byHercules,heperishedeasily. Ifthereisn’tsomethinginthatlegendforustoday,inthiscity,inourtime,thenIamcompletelyinsane. Well,therewehavethefirstthingIsaidweneeded. Quality,textureofinformation."
"Andthesecond?"
"Leisure."
"Oh,butwe’veplentyofoff-hours."
"Off-hours,yes.Buttimetothink? Ifyou’renotdrivingahundredmilesanhour,ataclipwhereyoucan’tthinkofanythingelsebutthedanger, thenyou’replayingsomegameorsittinginsomeroomwhereyoucan’targuewiththefourwalltelevisor. Why?Thetelevisoris‘real.’ Itisimmediate,ithasdimension. Ittellsyouwhattothinkandblastsitin. Itmustbe,right. Itseemssoright. Itrushesyouonsoquicklytoitsownconclusionsyourmindhasn’ttimetoprotest, ‘Whatnonsense!’"
"Onlythe‘family’is‘people.’"
"Ibegyourpardon?"
