diasyrmus

an emotional soup kitchen of mutant allegorical hermaphrodites

‘Nosferatu Man’ by Slint is my new jam.

Every time I see Caesars Palace, I’m reminded of Father Christmas on Summer Holiday.

The outside flavourness of it. 1. The Venetian. 2. Having breakfast in Paris.

The Neon Sign Boneyard was great - about the best museum Vegas could have. Guided tour took you through the history of the signs and the history that was attached to them.

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I’d missed all this Matt Goss being a thing in Vegas. 

Here in the Nevada Desert, Goss has reinvented himself as a new Sinatra. A Peckham boy updating the moves Ol’ Blue Eyes invented. And rather than running him out of town for the cheek of it, the Americans have fallen for Goss in a way they never did before.

This feels like the sort of place Vegas is. Producing weird Gatsbys out of the desert.

For a while he had no money at all. 'All our assets had been frozen. I was down to the wire, I'm talking only being able to buy one cheeseburger a day.'

Now he can afford many cheeseburgers a day. But he hasn’t forgotten his roots.

Not everybody is impressed. As Goss walks through the casino, flanked by bodyguards, on his way to the show, a lone voice from the card tables shouts out: ‘Douche bag!’ The singer spins on his heels, outruns his guards and goes close up, face to face with the offender. 

'Just because I'm on the billboard doesn't mean I won't sort you out.'

And this 

Underneath that tux is a tattoo he calls The Mark: a circle pattern worn by a close group of friends, all sworn to loyalty, including his father and his stepbrother Adam.

It’s a strange picture of a man, who went through a fame-loss-fame cycle, and it’s shaped him in some weird ways. But, again, Vegas feels right for that sort of thing. He may not be ‘Britain’s Answer to Frank Sinatra’ as the billboard has it (it’s a quote from The Sun), but he maybe he is this version of America’s Frank Sinatra.

Five o’clock in the morning, and as the sun rises Goss is standing in the bay window of his suite, black tie hanging loose, with a tumbler of Johnnie Walker Black Label in his hand, looking down on Vegas.

'Look at this. It's not a fantasy. This is real.'

(http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1310130/Matt-Goss-How-went-Bros-Las-Vegass-new-Frank-Sinatra.html)

reading Al Alvarez’s Biggest Game in Town again. That sense of geological time as you come into Vegas gave me a strong feeling of Ballard, not erased by the experience of the urban strip. 
And in the middle of this alien planet, a mirage. 
It feels like an inexpert post-collapse attempt to preserve. Ersatz skimmings of other civilisations - that which those who survived, who were not the best, were able to save.
The outside-in hotels, through a drifting middle-America, looking almost refugee-like, are sustained and contained by a vast machine of statistics and neurochemicals.
'These fragments have I stored in favour of my ruin.'

reading Al Alvarez’s Biggest Game in Town again. That sense of geological time as you come into Vegas gave me a strong feeling of Ballard, not erased by the experience of the urban strip. 

And in the middle of this alien planet, a mirage. 

It feels like an inexpert post-collapse attempt to preserve. Ersatz skimmings of other civilisations - that which those who survived, who were not the best, were able to save.

The outside-in hotels, through a drifting middle-America, looking almost refugee-like, are sustained and contained by a vast machine of statistics and neurochemicals.

'These fragments have I stored in favour of my ruin.'

I’d’ve been disappointed if this hadn’t been the view from my hotel room tbh. 

It’s half six in the morning. Was casting about unsuccessfully on hotel tv for the Everton/Arsenal game. Going out for a stroll along the strip.

Ok, I’m three hours in Vegas and this ^ is clearly how it’s going to go.

From the film Detour (see above). Apparently shot in six days.

Watched it on the flight and didn’t realise i had seen it before, until the doomed main character, one of the many spouting purple hard-boiled, used a phrase i had picked up and use from the film: ‘I had to hit the hay and hit it hard.’

Herne Hill > Vegas gpoy obscured by chance annunciation.

“I do not hate parenthesis or epexegesis, but “most dear, and most worthy to be most dear” seems to me a rather vile phrase;”

—   gotta love George Saintsbury.