Dummies shouldn’t shock anyone who drives in Las Vegas

"But the driver has no time to ponder paradoxical subtleties within a dangerous, sinuous maze. He or she relies on signs for guidance - enormous signs in vast spaces at high speeds."

- From "Learning from Las Vegas: The Forgotten Symbolism of Architectural Form"

Shocking. Outrageous. Entirely distasteful.

I'm not talking about Carrot Top's latest standup routine. I'm merely repeating the breathless reactions to the work of vandals who last week startled motorists by hanging dummies from nooses in an attempt to draw attention to Wall Street's transgressions.

Imagine that: Local drivers being outraged by signs. It's hard to believe. Local drivers have been flashing me outrageous signs for years, but that's a topic for another time.

Although no one is taking credit for the low-level criminal activity/political statements, the act smacks of the work of the local Occupy Las Vegas group. In what appears to be an example of pride of ownership in action, an Occupy activist posted photos of the billboards on her blog site.

The authors get no style points for subtlety for their "Dying for Work" and "Hope You're Happy, Wall St." remarks along Interstate 15 and Highland Drive, respectively, but then that was the whole point: somehow cut through what Robert Venturi called the "dangerous, sinuous maze" and make a statement that gets attention.

It worked. The story of the shocking Las Vegas billboards went national.

Just imagine the reaction of motorists if someone had painted the current blue-collar jobless rate, or listed the annual bonuses of some of those Wall Street villains. Maybe they could have printed T-shirts that read, "Big business sent my job to China, and all I got was this lousy pink slip."

While your level of outrage probably reflects your personal politics, and the image of even a dummy hanging from a noose is repulsive, what I find hard to fathom is how anyone in Las Vegas could be that upset about an inappropriate billboard .

Our roadsides are festooned with suggestive and misleading billboards you won't see in most other parts of the country. Through the generations, we've objectified women to sell everything from cheap buffets and $2 blackjack to, well, expensive buffets and $25 blackjack. But that's Las Vegas, where nothing sells a shrimp cocktail like a well-developed bosom.

Can an anti-Wall Street message really qualify as offensive in a valley littered with billboards for massage parlor prostitution and the "Bait & Tackle" amateur porn site?

Can we justify ads proclaiming, "I won a house" playing slots at a local casino, but be outraged if another billboard laments, "I lost my mortgage payment" at that same gambling hall? It's not exactly a Burma Shave world we're living in.

Nevada Highway Patrol Trooper Jeremie Elliott kept the issue in perspective, telling The Associated Press, "It's a publicity stunt, obviously done in bad taste."

Call it poor taste personified and an act of vandalism. But it also served as a reminder that there's an undercurrent of resentment of the corporate government state that isn't going away anytime soon.

For all its crass commercialism, our outdoor advertising tradition is one of the weird wonders of Las Vegas. Rooted in the neon iconography of our motel and casino cultures, the signs reveal who we are and what we're thinking and dreaming.

Las Vegas lives out loud. It's a reason pop-culture hipsters and social scientists are drawn to the place. To learn from Las Vegas is to better understand America. As art and architecture critic David Hickey astutely observed, "America ... is a very poor lens through which to view Las Vegas, while Las Vegas is a wonderful lens through which to view America."

Shocking. Outrageous. Entirely distasteful. And, don't forget, attention grabbing.

But distracted drivers and defenders of Wall Street's honor can rest easy. The messages have been removed from the billboards.

Just to make sure, I drove down I-15 and barely noticed the animated Little Darlings topless club sign as it beckoned to motorists making the scorching afternoon commute.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Email him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 702-383-0295. He also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/smith. Follow him on Twitter @jlnevadasmith.