Vegas had oriented itself around the vantage point of the automobile driver, cruising down Fremont Street or the strip: shop windows and sidewalk displays had given way to sixty-foot neon cowboys. The geometric seriousness of the Seagram Building or Brasília had given way to a playful anarchy: the Wild West of the gold rush thrust up against Olde English feudal designs, sitting next to cartoon arabesques, fronted by an endless stream of wedding chapels.
