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They want you out of the room quickly and downstairs, looking for a cup of joe to kick-start the ol’ grey matter, we’ll get you one, no problem, sir, and hey, while you wait, why not throw a few bucks into this handy slot machine right here?

Another thing that struck me, and this was the same at every hotel and casino we went into: the lighting is always the same.

A dim, always-maybe-late-afternoon glow to the rooms. No matter what time of day or night, it always looks the same. Messed with my Circadian rhythms something fierce. Also, along the same lines: no clocks. You’d better be sporting a watch in Las Vegas if you want to know what time it is, because there are no clocks around for you to help you maybe get the feeling that maybe you’ve been playing blackjack a little too long. Another thing I noticed; I was alert up until it was time to go to bed. Usually, I wind down a little about two hours before I fall asleep. I actual ly get quite dopey. But not in Las Vegas. I couldn’t figure this one out, until one of the many cab drivers we had overheard Mimi and I talking about it, and clued us in. Seems as though since the hotels and casinos have to do a massive amount of air-handling to scrub out the cigar and cigarette smoke, they give the folks a little added bonus of pumping in fresh oxygen while they’re at it as well.

Keeps everyone bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

So, you know, you can keep gambling.

No distractions, other than the ones the casinos want you to have.

The whole thing is a manipulated environment designed to get you to spend money on your own personal entertainment.

Now, you’ve read enough of these treatises by me that you know I’m going to tie this into comics somehow, right?

How does this apply to comics?

How does it not apply to comics?

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