STARS & STRIPS
IN THE LANGUAGE OF CITIES, LAS VEGAS IS A VERB. A METROPOLIS IN A CONSTANT STATE OF DOING SOMETHING, HEAVY ON THE HEDONISM.
Arrive at night and it’s all hot, sweaty flashes of arhythmic light, every glance full of bright temptation. Booze. Weed. Sex. Gambling. Don’t think, do. Cheerfully succumb. In the day it’s like a cheesy seaside holiday resort in the middle of the desert, heavy lidded hangovers battered by dry heat, a million bouts of post-party beer fear sweating themselves towards the next evening’s boozy redemption. But somehow it works, mainly because Vegas knows what it is, and rolls with it. Despite all the promises of big budget magic shows in fake, half-scale Venetian cathedrals, Vegas itself is under no illusions.
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