Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Somewhere in the long and irksome history of assholes, Las Vegas was deemed the ultimate city to visit if you're a real man, MAN! You can gamble, MAN! It's Sin City, MAN! Ironically, the same flashy allure that coaxes every frat boy in the country to flock to the middle of the desert to "have fun" also attracts the elderly. It's the same group of old people who have organized bus trips to Atlantic City in the interest of making it big just in time for their sudden deaths. So, it's actually pretty interesting to hang around an airport loaded with date rapists and mummies.
That being said, I've been thinking a lot about criticism. After watching Jamie Kennedy's surprisingly good documentary called Heckler, I'm realizing more and more that criticism, for the most part, is a necessary facet of the creative process, but it's also an easy haven for those of us who don't actually DO anything. As much as I bitch and moan about Dane Cook, who am I to judge? He's popular and successful. I am neither of those things. It's incredibly easy to rip someone apart if you haven't actually done the work they do. It really is time to stop complaining and start doing.
And THAT being said, I still hate Vegas. It's a fucking abomination. Slot machines in the airport? Get the fuck out of here with that nonsense. We get it, there's gambling in Las Vegas.