Popular Culture Review Vol. 11, No. 1, February 2000 | Page 74

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Popular Culture Review

. . . house-whores winners, hand jobs for the bad luck crowd” (41). Vegas is a
lottery, and for the most part, the only people who get rich are the casino owners
and the state.
Just as many during the Jazz Age thought that indiscriminate investment in
the falsely inflated stock market would invariably result in financial success, people
still believe that wealth is available for the taking in the West. But their perception
o f the method of achieving prosperity has changed in that it’s no longer work that
is rewarded; instead, it’s just dumb luck. Admittedly, the possibility of striking it
rich in gold or silver, which was a big draw to the West in the boom years following
the California Gold Rush of 1849, is conceptually not that much different from
hitting a slot jackpot. But you can’t just stick a quarter on the ground and have it
spit up money; although luck plays a large part in wealth attained through mining,
it is nevertheless very hard work. The same can be said of the dust bowl refugees
who migrated in the hopes of becoming farmers, or those who came West for
factory jobs during World War Two and the ensuing post-war boom; these people
came in search of a better life, but they came expecting to work hard to secure it.
Even today, immigrants who come to America still believe in the possibilities of
life in this country and are willing to work hard for a better life; but among natives,
the belief in the possibility of merit being rewarded seems to have given way to the
lure o f easy money. As Thompson cogently observes, the Americans who come to
Las Vegas in search of instant riches
. . . look like caricatures of used-car dealers from Dallas. But they’re

real, and, sweet Jesus, there are a hell of a lot of them—still screaming
around these desert-city crap tables at four-thirty on a Sunday morning.
Still humping the American Dream, that vision of the Big Winner
somehow emerging from the last-minute pre-dawn chaos of a stale
Vegas casino. (57)
Early on in Fear and Loathing, covering the Mint 400 story is put aside so
Duke and Dr. Gonzo can explore Vegas while under the influence of a plethora of
drugs. As is to be expected, after three days of debauchery Duke realizes that he
has failed to cover the race. As he ponders his failure he is reminded of a failure
from another time and place that isn’t as long ago or far away as it seems:
Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years
later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of
peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was
a very special time and place to be a part of...
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the