the question of the sunset and The Strip
i know i've given a somewhat negative portrayal of las vegas. the neon, the fakery, the stench, the hooker hotline trading card fuckers... i think i referred to it as - "an adult-themed amusement park/neon wasteland", "a giant cavity in the jaws of human decency and culture." no? i didn't? well, i guess i meant to.
to be precise, i referred to las vegas as - "the shittiest, most lavish piece of shit in all of western shit." i think that says it all really. but some time after my days in vegas, i was turned on to a book (thank you brisa), Air Guitar by Dave Hickey, offering a different point of view, an explanation of sorts that allowed me to see vegas in a different, less-shitty, light. and though i still don't really like las vegas, i have at least grown to appreciate it, for all its gaudiness and over-abundance. for there is beauty in all things, no matter how excessively shitty they may be. anyway, here's an excerpt to further explain -
"...every night I find myself struck by the fact that, while The Strip always glitters with a reckless and undeniable specificity against the darkness, the sunset, smoldering out above the mountains, every night and without exception, looks bogus as hell. It's spectacular, of course, and even, occasionally, sublime (if you like sublime), but to my eyes the sunset is always fake--as flat and gaudy as a Barnett Newman and just as pretentious.
Friends of mine who visit watch this light show with different eyes. They prefer the page of the landscape to the text of the neon. They seem to think it's more "authentic." I, on the other hand, supsect that "authenticity" is altogether elsewhere--that they are responding to nature's ability to mimic the sincerity of a painting, that the question of the sunset and The Strip is more a matter of one's taste in duplicity. One either prefers the honest fakery of the neon or the fake honesty of the sunset--the undisguised artifice of culture or the cultural construction of "authenticity"--the genuine rhinestone, finally, or the imitation pearl." - dave hickey, Air Guitar
to be precise, i referred to las vegas as - "the shittiest, most lavish piece of shit in all of western shit." i think that says it all really. but some time after my days in vegas, i was turned on to a book (thank you brisa), Air Guitar by Dave Hickey, offering a different point of view, an explanation of sorts that allowed me to see vegas in a different, less-shitty, light. and though i still don't really like las vegas, i have at least grown to appreciate it, for all its gaudiness and over-abundance. for there is beauty in all things, no matter how excessively shitty they may be. anyway, here's an excerpt to further explain -
"...every night I find myself struck by the fact that, while The Strip always glitters with a reckless and undeniable specificity against the darkness, the sunset, smoldering out above the mountains, every night and without exception, looks bogus as hell. It's spectacular, of course, and even, occasionally, sublime (if you like sublime), but to my eyes the sunset is always fake--as flat and gaudy as a Barnett Newman and just as pretentious.
Friends of mine who visit watch this light show with different eyes. They prefer the page of the landscape to the text of the neon. They seem to think it's more "authentic." I, on the other hand, supsect that "authenticity" is altogether elsewhere--that they are responding to nature's ability to mimic the sincerity of a painting, that the question of the sunset and The Strip is more a matter of one's taste in duplicity. One either prefers the honest fakery of the neon or the fake honesty of the sunset--the undisguised artifice of culture or the cultural construction of "authenticity"--the genuine rhinestone, finally, or the imitation pearl." - dave hickey, Air Guitar
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