ABSTRACT
This is a tale of dissent that flows along a very “lyric I” from point A to B, from truth to un-truth, from disturbances to dislocations, from days of actions to states of screenality and back. Dissent, as risk, is always about the location and dislocation of one’s social sense or (ae)ffective condition in relation to the embedded real in which one finds oneself; that is the influence of where and when one is born or comes into being. My dissenting being emerges from the convolute of being from Las Vegas, Nevada—the land of risks and of the always/already gamble. My world was full of bright burning neon nukes going off down the road, casino capitalism playing the odds 24/7, strange alien areas run by military groups for unknown purposes, nuclear bombs and the pragmatic platonic prayers of the Mormons running the state. I found myself under a simple formula that would soon run the whole neoliberal world: Money+Mafia+Military+Mormons+ (a Mexican me) = equalled the ruins yet to come.
