All right, ALL RIGHT. It’s a new posting. May it pleasure you beyond all measure.
A couple weekends ago I was in Las Vegas. I had never been before, and now can say that I have. ‘Self’ Magazine – one of those “ladies’” mags with titles synonymous with “mine,” “greed,” “egocentric,” etc., sent Val to cover a SEXUAL FANTASIES convention at the Hilton, and I got taken along. I did not attend the convention. I missed psychiatrists talking about dreams; Phd’s describing how alcohol affects inhibitions; real radical stuff. To learn more I suggest you subscribe to ‘Self’ and tell them it’s because you love those VALERIE FRANKEL articles.
I have to admit, I didn’t give Vegas much of a chance. I hated it as soon as we got off the plane (US Air, delayed 2 hours, reason never given). SLOT MACHINES. The ringing, beeping, and
flashing lights never stop coming at you, wherever you go, whenever you go there. There’s ARMIES of those damn things -- untold thousands. I did some research but couldn’t find an approximate number. People spend hours dumping money into them, and there’s no way you can win. There are no odds, no knack required; put the money in, push the button (or pull the handle, makes no difference), watch the lights flash, repeat. Doesn’t matter how long you play, or how many people have played before you. People get hypnotized by those things, it’s really sick. You at least have a slight chance of winning if you play actual games, with actual people. For some reason I’m talking as though I give a shit.
Old Lady, to Beavis and Butthead: So, are you young men in Vegas to try the slots?
Butthead: Yeah! We wanna do some sluts!
Old Lady: All you need is some quarters and you could score big!
Beavis: Yeah, yeah! We're gonna score!
Old Lady: Keep that attitude.
Prostitution is also legal there. And I'm sure there are other methods of throwing money away that most of us know nothing about. If this is Sin City I would really just as soon be in Disney World.
‘Self’ put us at Treasure Island, one of those huge casino/hotels on The Strip. It used to be one of the more kid-friendly places to stay in Vegas, with its pirate and treasure theme. But how kid-friendly can or should Vegas be? What kind of sleazebag would bring a kid to a place like that? Anyway, the pirates at Treasure Island are now mostly consigned to the free show that
takes place a couple times every evening outside the hotel. There’s a wide moat with a big
pirate ship set built into one side. This ship is “manned” by the SIRENS OF TI, half-naked sexy pirate babes who lip-synch horrible music and pro-wrestler-type taunts. All their noise attracts an actual sailing pirate ship, full of half-naked sexy pirate men who unfortunately don’t sing “Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me, AVAST!” but do talk the same kind of WWF invective. This ship is a full-sized thing which appears from around a bend and ‘sails’ into place on the opposite side of the bridge from the Sirens. They yell at each other for a minute then attack. Cannons explode, balls of flame go rolling up into the sky, masts topple, pirates high dive into the moat, and the pirate ship sinks! The Sirens capture the pirates, and the whole thing ends with a dance. Oh joy, oh rapture. A heck of a show!
The weather on Saturday was too grim for me to go to Hoover Dam, as planned, so I went with Val to the Hilton, which houses as their main attraction STAR TREK: THE EXPERIENCE. An immense collection of props and costumes from the movies and TV series, extensive enough to make you raise an eyebrow and say "fascinating," depending on your level of Trek-gayness. Also a bar with amusing theme drinks, a gift shop, and two crazy rides -- or I suppose they call them “inter-active experiences.” Both these “experiences” consist of Trek-costumed actors leading the small audience onto an elaborate set at which point the trouble starts. “Borg Invasion 4D” is an excellent 3D movie (we have to wear “protective goggles” because we start in the engine room, or something). The ship is attacked by Borg. Suddenly the wall we’ve been looking at gets blasted and becomes a big hole in the ship! We’re staring into the yawning 3D infinity of space! We have to resist the Borg as they blow air at us and stick things in our backs and do a rectal probe (Disney-type Tingler effects). In “Klingon Encounter” we’re aboard the Enterprise, having a tour of the bridge. Renegade Klingon bastards attack the ship because they’ve somehow ascertained that one of us audience members is an ancestor of Jean-Luc Picard, and if they kill us, Picard will never exist! But if he didn't exist why would we be talking about him? Don't KLINGONS EVER THINK OF ANYTHING? I hate those fucking Klingons. LET... THEM... DIE. We all get hustled into an elevator and put aboard a shuttle craft. It then becomes one of those virtual roller coaster rides as we get thrashed around and shown sickening, vertiginous (2D) movies. A couple of red-shirted actors die flashy deaths, but none of the audience gets killed. Nauseous, yes.
I am menaced by a salt vampire.
