“Leaving Las Vegas” - a study in nihilism
“Leaving Las Vegas” - a study in nihilism I have often wondered why art forms, and to a large extent, society in general, treats an alcoholic with an melancholic sympathy; looks upon him with a kind of motherly vulnerability, when we never think of according such curtsies to a smoker, or any other drug abuser. Have you ever heard of any jinxed, unrequited lover, smoking or drugging themselves to a sublimely artistic suicide? I haven’t, or it is extremely rare? I guess, there is nothing "romantic" about such acts. Unlike an alcoholic, who has found reams of poems and rich prose devoted to his escapades and sorrowful destiny, No bard, novelist, dramatist or film maker has ever elevated any other form of addiction (with a few exceptions, of course) to a pedestal where they can be viewed sympathetically or with an artistic eye. The archetypal alcoholic male with his stubby beard, shabby clothes, droopy eyes, slurring voice, unsteady steps; holding a glass or bottle reflecting