
As everybody gathers around the cake, prodding hesitantly with forks, nobody is thinking about John Belushi who died of a drug overdose in one of the rooms upstairs, nobody is thinking about Lindsay Lohan who lives here now, scolded again and again for her use of this very drug. Is it okay to celebrate Cocaine but not okay to snort it? What then are we celebrating? The high? The escape? Escape is the mantra of Los Angeles, the city whose name even nods at imaginary, idealized creatures. What, here, are we trying to hard to escape from? Why is escape so valued in LA that it gets its own cake despite dark, destructive associations? The powdered lines become an escalator away from the mundane, away from the pain of being average.
Los Angeles feeds us a lie, an illusion that something heavenly, something divine lies just on the other side of the wall. That lie is sweet and seductive, that lie is toxic, that lie is Hollywood Cake.
In the bathroom, powder residue lingers on the sink. This is real: Cocaine isn't a dream or a nightmare, it is a reality that goes on enhancing brief, flickering moments while destroying lives. Cocaine is still a tool for the unhappy, condemning spirits to emptiness, sealing despair with despair.
As we can see by this cake, cocaine in Hollywood is looked upon with ease and humor, as if it were pixie dust, something airy and light we inhale simply to feel better.
-- Zahra Lipson
Photo: Zahra Lipson
I love how you've revealed the irony in Hollywood cake, something that I probably wouldn't have realized had I been there myself. Love the images, I can SEE what the bathroom sink looks like, and people prodding as you've described. The contrast in the "sweet and seductive" and the "dark, destructive" fit together so well in your piece.
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