The Paris Hotel, like nearly everything else is Las Vegas, is a Baudrillardian landscape of half-cocked simulation and middle American escapism. Add to this any music relating to France (Edith Piaf? check. Serge Gainsbourg? check. "Lady Marmelade" as performed in 2001 by Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya, and Pink? check.) along with copious amounts of tourists buying crepes! Arc de Triomphe snow globes! boisson alcoolisée! and you've got yourself the ultimate postmodern getaway.
In conclusion, I've decided I need not visit Paris (the city) unless I wish to be disappointed by its lack of painted skies and novelty booze.
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