Last Days In Las Vegas
The Apocalypse will begin in Las Vegas amidst a sweltering heatwave.
By Ruby Thelot
Published
The End Times is a column cataloguing the omens of the Apocalypse as they occur in culture.
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It’s all salt and heat. It was 110 degrees in Las Vegas this week. And every year, it gets worse. I drove through the desert for hours to get to the American Oasis. A city of Sin in the midst of the desert is ripe for divine retribution, such a natural target.
The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and it was allowed to scorch people with fire. They were scorched by the fierce heat.
At night, the street signs shine like stars. A million Alpha Centauri beckon me as I walk the Strip of Paradise. Ads made celestial. Decorated sheds line the street with the imagery and symbols of temptation.
Girls direct to you
The only respite is found inside the sheds, where the cool mechanic breeze of freon boxes refrigerates the interior of casinos. On the vast floor, thousands of grey-haired iPad babies sit enraptured in front giant screens clicking away as bright images of half-baked games illuminate their faces. The dry chilled air is mixed with the suave scent of cigarettes being smoked inside.
Where the fun never sets