From fifteen-thousand feet, Las Vegas is invisible. The desert floor of Nevada stretches on until it disappears into the ether of earth’s hazy rim, with minor undulations here and there, grey mountains shoved up through the sand like bones in a compound fracture.
The first indication that civilization exists here too, is when the mirror’s edge of the windows on the Luxor Casino twinkle back at your airplane as if to say, “hey, Sin City will see you now.” That’s if you believe Las Vegas is some measure of civilization, but to go further down that path would be to assume this travelogue is more philosophical than it could ever want to be.
The Luxor, like more than a few things from the nineties, resembles something else in a weird, love-it-and-hate-it kind of way. It’s a huge glass pyramid that could pass as a bigger brother to the clear…
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