"Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Ideal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinbaum Stanley G)

"I—suppose so."

"Then I argue that our own individuality is due to our falling short of perfection. All of us—even van
Manderpootz—are individuals only because we are not perfect. Were we perfect, each of us would be
exactly like everyone else. True?"

"Uh—yes."

"But Heaven, by definition, is a place where all is perfect. Therefore, in Heaven everybody is exactly like
everybody else; and therefore, everybody thoroughly and completely bored. There is no torture like
boredom, Dixon, and—Well, have I proved my point?"

I was floored. "But—about anarchy, then?" I stammered.

"Simple. Very simple for van Manderpootz. See here; with a perfect nation—that is, one whose
individuals are all exactly alike, which I have just proved to constitute perfection—with a perfect nation, I
repeat, laws and government are utterly superfluous. If everybody reacts to stimuli in the same way, laws
are quite useless, obviously. If, for instance, a certain event occurred that might lead to a declaration of
war, why, everybody in such a nation would vote for war at the same instant. Therefore government is
unnecessary, and therefore anarchy is the ideal government, since it is the proper government for a
perfect race." He paused. "I shall now prove that anarchy is not the ideal government—"

"Never mind!" I begged. "Who am I to argue with van Manderpootz? But is that the whole purpose of
this dizzy robot? Just a basis for logic?" The mechanism replied with its usual rasp as it leaped toward
some vagrant car beyond the window.

"Isn't that enough?" growled van Manderpootz. "However"—his voice dropped—"I have even a greater
destiny in mind. My boy, van Manderpootz has solved the riddle of the universe!" He paused
impressively. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"Uh!" I gasped. "It's—uh—marvelous!"

"Not for van Manderpootz," he said modestly.

"But—what is it?"

"Eh—oh!" He frowned. "Well, I'll tell you, Dixon. You won't understand, but I'll tell you." He coughed.
"As far back as the early twentieth century," he resumed, "Einstein proved that energy is particular.
Matter is also particular, and now van Manderpootz adds that space and time are discrete!" He glared at
me.

"Energy and matter are particular," I murmured, "and space and time are discrete! How very moral of
them!"

"Imbecile!" he blazed. "To pun on the words of van Manderpootz! You know very well that I mean
particular and discrete in the physical sense. Matter is composed of particles, therefore it is particular.
The particles of matter are called electrons, protons, and neutrons, and those of energy, quanta. I now
add two others, the particles of space I call spations, those of time, chronons."

"And what in the devil," I asked, "are particles of space and time?"