Letter to the Bank #28

Dear Banksy, and I mean YOU, my personal BM, not that secretive art collective that goes around destroying the facades of fine institutions not dissimilar to yours and calls it Art and Commentary and the like,

I am so excited. Despite none of your guys showing up the potluck confessional was a huge success. For the next one not only will there be a place to go if you want to get some of the terrible underhanded deals you’ve nailed down of late off your chest, but there will also be a photo booth element. You’ll now be able to:
Confess (as mentioned above),
Draw money (quite literally using the crayons and paper provided),
Give away your money to an ever-changing list of charities deemed by yours truly to be worthy recipients,
Vote for your favorite whatever,
AND…
Pose for a photograph as a remorseful engine of Capitalism as opposed to a remorseless one. What a change that will be! I’m asking people to pose as if remorseful but know full well most will scoff at the idea or even be nonplussed by it. Some might even gamely try with ghastly results but it is all to the good. As more and more people are invited to the party—the insurance folks, the traders, and the bookkeepers—this “rogues” gallery will hopefully grow and grow. I believe the inclination to let it all hang out or get things off one’s chest is an almost irresistible one when presented with the opportunity to do so. It is a bit like that Truth and Reconciliation Commission created with the end of Apartheid in South Africa. Not only did the generals and the torturers step forward but so did the humblest of collaborators, the shoemaker, the shopkeeper, who, not thinking of the consequences did partake of, or impart, in most inappropriate fashion, information that, to say the least was flawed. The advice so proffered was all too eagerly taken methinks (as one who is perhaps a case in point). Maybe home owners will soon be standing side by side with the top bank executives as they all hold hands and bow their heads in a collective sigh of shame. Actually the thought of it makes me a touch queasy. Still a little culpability would do us all the world of good.
Anyway do come this time and please bring your friends preferably those in the greatest denial. It will be fun to draw them out and in the end they will appreciate the benefits of group therapy I assure you. Having scruples if you’ve never had them before is quite an experience, a unique “high” if you will.

Until then yours most sincerely,

KC

PS—I almost forgot to add: The booths also have the ability to spit out Coke and the like if you put in the right number of quarters. What the right number is is for you to figure out and if you get it wrong you’ll lose your coins. It is, I suppose, a bit of a gamble. As vending machines go it is more spiteful than most and, if you can believe it, is bitterly opposed to giving out sugary drinks. Come to think of it “it” is an ominous box all in all.