The Filthy Bowels of the Beast - A Las Vegas Story
Any foray into the bowels of the beast in the Nevada desert, to its gambling, sullen depraved losers, live shows of music, acrobatics & illusion, weary convention goers with their plastic bags full swag of all sort, hour long lines for mediocre coffee, beautiful exotic women, depravity, melt in your mouth fatty tuna sashimi, a dry aged medium rare tomahawk ribeye made of my dreams, dirty martinis, nighttime skyline views over the desert, hookers on the prowl, fall down drunks, miles of trippy carpet in all directions, a slight haze of cigar and cigarette smoke hanging across the casino floor, the occasional whiff of good bud, eats and drinks every type suitable for kings and queens, simply an excess of pleasures and flavors, also known as Las Vegas, quickly brings my thoughts to Dr. Gonzo.
I mostly have a hate relationship with this place, its juxtaposition to my genuine authenticity, but there is some love too, grateful I was able to visit, more grateful to be home, there is no deep love affair here, it is not my toes in the soft sand of a Caribbean beach or a frosty mountain meadow of an early fall morning in the Rockies. Those places live in both my memories and dreams of the future, places I love deeply and completely. My thoughts on this place might be best summed up as: I fuckin’ hate Vegas, but damn what a wild & filthy ride!
“Las Vegas is the savage heart of the American dream.” - HST
This adventure deep into the filthy bowls of the desert beast, a unique mixture of business, excess and just plain livin', the extent of its glorious weight on my being heavy enough to require several days of intensive recovery, the kind of complete physical and mental exhaustion that fully clears the mind, a mental enema of sorts, refreshed with a blank canvas, now back to painting a life of fluidity and openness to outcome, living with ease as I remind myself often, completely uncertain, yet thoroughly beautiful, a way of life. Thank you for that moment of clarity Las Vegas!
I find my attention shifting, these past nights since my return, the Pacific ocean has been in my dreams, the inspiration for this piece of filth I call writing, the warmth of the sun across my face, the water and sand mixing to create a silky creamy slurry that flows between my toes with each subsequent wave, the salt and the sun bleach my hair and tan my skin, my shorts cool and wet to the touch as they cling and hug my legs, all of which makes life feel so simple and easy, even if its just for a moment, at complete ease, a siren song for my spirit.
I had three of the finest meals of my life, was mesmerized by Carlos Santana wailing some blues guitar, conducted business like a boss, tasted the excess, dabbled if you will, but ultimately took myself to the brink of physical and mental exhaustion during my time in the bowels of Las Vegas, all and all, it was a pretty wild ride. Grateful for the experience!
Good bye and good riddance though, at least until our next dance.
Joshua
“So if you now number yourself among the disenchanted, then you have no choice but to accept things as they are, or to seriously seek something else. But beware of looking for goals: look for a way of life.” - Hunter S. Thompson
Photo Credit @AnitaGonzo @GonzoVice @300PoundSamoan
