Muerte Las Vegas

The glitz, the glamor, the spectacle. All that the pinnacle of capitalist consumption has to offer, Donald Trump and Hunter S. Thompson madness, surreal visions of indulgence amplified rabid intoxication in windowless foretresses. In the middle of the desert: take an hour shower in your suite, jump in the pool, play golf on green grass.

American empire exemplified: Cesear’s Palace and Luxor Pyramid. Monuments of this society, a temple of consumption, marble plated wood and debt driven excess. What recession? 

Class lines clearly drawn. Only VIPs are allowed in this area, the cabana by the pool costs $3,000, you can’t wear cut off jeans here. Limo or taxi or walk? Cash rules everything around me.The cleaning crew busting their asses to clean up the filth. The man buying her $24 cocktails because he wants her drunk and indebted. Hypersexualized hypercapitalism hyperdevastation.

Eat drink gamlbe fuck eat drink money gamble billboards bright lights ornate stone drink drink drink fucccckkkkkkk show trophies luxury leisure billboard desire devour devour inebriation gamble eat drink flashy jewelry expensive shoes cologne cigarettes cigarettes.

I don’t normally smoke but I’m drunk. I couldn’t handle Vegas, I found myself loosing a screw or two, maybe five. The development and consumption sending me into an anti-capitalist theoretical whirlwind. I did not have intellectual allies, so I drank and drank and drank to make my rage and oncoming depression fall down. He is smoking and I want a drag, I ask him for one. He offers me a whole cigarette, says he doesn’t like to share them. I explain that I don’t want a whole one. He replies: “It’s Vegas, kill yourself.”

He works in the stock market and loves partying in Vegas. Says it helps him “forget it all.” The objective is to forget, to get shitty, to live in an alternate reality. The buffets typify Vegas: making resources seem unlimited. All you can eat. The never-ending feast, don’t worry about where the ingredients come from, how they were grown or harvested, who cooked them. The trick of Vegas is that it makes people feel like players when they are getting played. I am looking up strip clubs and limos as I type this.


About Anon Wit

RAWRR I live and things like that

Posted on 07/01/2012, in Cultural Criticism, Ethnography, Poetry-Journalism. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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