Ancient casino vizier Steve Wynn finally ran out of luck. He appealed all the way to the Supreme Court to have libel laws reinterpreted in his favor because … well, because he’s special, we guess. Wynn used to fancy himself “the most powerful man in Nevada” and all that absolute power corrupted him absolutely. He got to the point of thinking that he could play hide the salami with Wynn Resorts employees and get away with it. He couldn’t and that was the end of a hitherto spectacular career in casinos.
Bent upon revenge on the women—brave employees and intrepid journalists alike—who brought him down, Wynn pursued a quixotic defamation suit. At its crux, he wanted the standing precedent on libel thrown out, so that no “actual malice” had to be present in order for defamation to be committed. Imagine the chilling effect on free speech and public disclosure if defamation were suddenly in the eye of the beholder, not the law. Whistleblowers would be intimated, journalists muzzled and a woman pawed by a horny, old gaming mogul would have very little recourse indeed.
Thankfully, the Supremes weren’t willing to upset that applecart and turned a deaf ear to Wynn’s plea. (Not even fellow sexual harasser Clarence Thomas made a peep.) Can you imagine what would have happened to John L. Smith if Wynn and the late Sheldon Adelson could bend libel laws to their own wishes? Oligarchs like they could run rampant, with little fear of restraint. After all, the drowsy Nevada Gaming Control Board only moved against Wynn after the Wall Street Journal and The Associated Press did the heavy lifting.
Wynn’s attorney wailed, somewhat fancifully, that “everyone in the world has the ability to publish any statement with a few keystrokes. And in this age of clickbait journalism, even those members of the legacy media have resorted to libelous headlines and false reports to generate views. This Court need not further this golden era of lies.” Boo hoo. Except that the statements on record weren’t lies. Wynn himself even tried to diminish them by calling the compulsory sex “consensual.” The plaintiff would have us believe some reckless blogger ruined Wynn’s reputation “with a few keystrokes,” when assiduous reporting, a great deal of shoe leather and two bastions of print journalism brought him down.
Anyway, with any luck this marks the end of the public career of the superannuated lecher. He’s been toast in the casino industry for seven years now and with any luck we’ve heard the last of him. Don’t let the gilded doorknob hit you on the way out, Skeletor.
Anyone remember the obscure Three Affiliated Tribes of the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation? They emerged from the margins of tribal gambling to secure 23 acres of land on the Las Vegas Strip, near Mandalay Bay. To what end the Mandan, Hidatsa & Arikara Nation wanted the land was unclear … until now. According to journalist Jennifer Eggleston, the Three Affiliated Tribes’ plan is slowly being made visible. Tribal Chairman Mark Fox is credited with a scheme for a 15,000-20,000-seat arena on the site. The overall development is being designed by ubiquitous casino architect Paul Steelman‘s firm. Unfortunately, there is no fly-by-night project with which Steelman will not attach himself, so it’s difficult to judge the credibility of this latest venture.
After all, when even the ever-credulous Las Vegas Review-Journal won’t tout your real estate project, it must be exceptionally low either on the radar or on believability. However, Fox has been playing footsie with Las Vegas Golden Knights owner Bill Foley. The latter says he’s not actively seeking a new venue for his team but doesn’t rule out ankling from T-Mobile Arena at some point in the future. (Of course, that would open up T-Mobile to a potential NBA team, so MGM Resorts International has no reason to panic.)
In the meantime, Fox and friends are content to drop hints. They say all will be revealed when the necessary approvals are received from Clark County. The latter would approve and subsidize a unicorn petting zoo if you put it before them, so don’t keep us waiting too long, Tribes.
There’s something very fishy going on at the Downtown Grand and we’re not referring to its slow-motion sale. The quiet casino hotel, on whose gambling floor you could hear a pin drop, was the recent subject of a complaint to LVA. A guest stayed there for a weekend and didn’t get his room cleaned. Not once during his stay. Nope. The official Downtown Grand line is that rooms are cleaned every three days, which seems awfully lax. Surely the Culinary Union would have addressed this in the latest labor pact, no? But the Culinary’s Bethany Khan clammed up when we came calling. So did state Sen. Lori Rogich (R), who has laudably made an issue of mandating daily room cleanings. (Unfortunately, Nevada‘s puppet governor, Joe Lombardo [R], squelched Rogich’s effort.) What sort of tacit agreement do the Culinary and the not-so-Grand have? Inquiring stayover minds would surely like to know.