ART AND THE BOUNCY BANKER: Letter to the Bank#23

The Bruxist Collective's take on Art and (as Alfred Jarry might put it) P'finance.

A numerically dyslexic artist (and reluctant consumer) shares his dearth of financial wisdom and resulting frustrations with his Bank Manager. Read personal letters from the elusive Art to his even more elusive Bank Manager. See a comic rendition of a Day In The Life Of The Bouncy Banker. Art struggles to make sense of the senseless as the Authorities of Finance wobble but never quite fall down. Full of hot air they float above it all! When they bounce it is with impunity! Why are there no Remorseful Bankers? Can Art and Finance ever coexist? Do you have a Blue Chip on your shoulder?

When bankers get together they talk about Art. When artists get together they talk about money. Oscar Wilde

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Letter to the Bank#23

Dear BM,

It has been a while but if you have the least bit of sensitivity you can already tell I have not changed my tone. Am I asking you how you are, like a civil person should? No because I already know the answer. You are doing just fine. I am not exactly thrilled for you. It can’t be that hard when people are so eager and willing to toss wads of money at you every time you blink. Nobody does that when I blink. You don’t even have to work for it. If just sitting behind a desk speculating recklessly is all it takes then I want in on the action. I'm very good at being reckless! Just look at the state of my mortgage! I’ll just write the word banker on my forehead. And don’t you start getting all defensive. That line about having to pay the talent, keep the talent pool, offer bonuses blah blah blah. Well sure where genuine talent is involved, sure if they earned it. We just are not overjoyed to see institutional disfunction that has seriously hurt us all being rewarded. I’m straining to be ever so slightly light hearted. I feel a bit like the brilliant satirical singer/songwriter (and mathematician) Tom Lehrer, who once said in an interview, when asked why he’d stopped writing his hilarious songs, that he no longer found any of it funny anymore.

It doesn’t appear as if any you guys really give a damn how you are perceived. Nobody appears ready to impose regulations on you and you cannot be shamed into behaving ethically and altruistically anymore. So where does that leave us but down in the dumps. That is where I’ve been for a while. Truthfully a mood approximating despair has kept me damped way down. I admit it—I am not my usual fiery self. But I do have glimmers of hope buried under the ashes, glimmers that are ready to be reignited given the right fuel. Your talents will be heavily taxed as you try to keep my fury at bay. I was almost completely put out but now feel a growing heat underground as if the earth still believes enough in humans to offer them once more the gift of fire and fury.

I’ll give you a tip: If you dignify my letter to you with a response I might be controllable for some time yet. Your justified concern that I might just start a forest fire and threaten your lovely McMansion on the hill, or your barricaded millionaire enclave in the valley can be assuaged by a thoughtful reply.

Sincerely,

K.C.

PS— I see you have changed the term toxic asset to legacy security. How brilliant. Maybe you do deserve that bonus! Come on! Lighten up. That is what I am about to do.