I’m getting nostalgic for artificial geology. This is how it starts.
I took some pictures of what used to be the Mirage, which is a very Las Vegas sentence. In most cities, you photograph a building and tell people what it is. Here, you explain what it was and which driveway they should no longer attempt to use.
Looking at the pictures, I realized I had outlived a volcano.
I hadn’t been training for that. I go to the gym, but none of the equipment has a setting for outlasting a geological attraction. The volcano had advantages. No cholesterol. No family history. People whose actual job was making sure it continued being a volcano. A Grateful Dead member supplying its life soundtrack.
And yet, here I am.
Read the full Riff, plus today’s Don’t Pick What I Pick, on Substack →




