There’s no photography allowed in the casinos of Las Vegas. Some claim it’s to retain a sense of mystique, while other people might suggest it’s because it might undercut the carefully curated media depiction of it.

I passed through there for three days a few years ago on my way out of LA and I was immediately struck by the wafer-thin, extremely shiny veneer that papers over the palpable undercurrent of desperation. The strip is not a place of poverty, extreme crime or real danger. But it is the home of a disconcerting sense of emptiness. Inside casinos are rows of silent pensioners slotting their way through their final years to the saccharine muzak of the shop floor; on the streets, a younger crowd of bros searching for fulfilment with the hollow affections of a lap dance.

To me, the place seemed to be a suppository for our most basic instincts to pursue temporary, joyless and incredibly expensive quick fixes; where locked smiles in a thousand photographs seem to say “This is fun. We are having fun.” Just not in the casinos themselves, of course.

But anyway, some people seem to like it.

Either way I was suspicious of this poster, which is currently plastered around London, because it didn’t exactly mirror my experiences.

So I sent some PR types in Las Vegas my thoughts on it. (Click to enlarge.)