"Wandering through the main strip of Vegas, I found myself in front of The Palace. Caesar's ghostly mirage of palacial wealth and prosperity for all punters is emphasised by meticulously lifelike robotic stone statues holding gratuitous orgies of self-indulgence over and over again - every hour, on the hour. The crowd applauds the simulacra. "Animated mechanics imitating casino death. "Stumbling through acres of slot machines and felt tables, I left feeling like Ali - boxed in and punchdrunk with banality. "Checked into the only hotel I could find with a vacant room. A fine establishment: The Debbie Reynolds Hollywood Hotel/Casino/Hollywood Movie Museum. "Debbie sings relentlessly whenever the reception's phone is put on hold. An impressively large illuminated street sign of Debbie girthed with strobing lights complements the streetscape outside the hotel. A recording of Debbie singing echoes through the lobby. Debbie regularly performs at her own piano bar. Many photos of Debbie with select celebrities litter the walls. Debbie's hotel was a document. A suicide note written to all the Classic Hollywood stars, or rather for the manequins of them scattered in the hotel lobby. "Audrey Hepburn, Humprey Bogart and Jimmy Cagney saw me to my room from the hallway walls. Settling, I channel surfed only to find News3 displaying Dr. Jack Kevorkian (aka Dr. Death) in the US courts yet again for helping to push up terminal daisies." Tell me something about Virtual Worlds (How much more vitual can you get?)

SATELLITE DISPATCH  /  ONROAD  /  ADAM BURNS  /  1-4  /  2-4  /  3-4  /  4-4