ART AND THE BOUNCY BANKER: Letter to the Bank #32

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

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Letter to the Bank #32

Dear Mr. Banks,

I still hang on to the belief that you have my best interests at heart and that is why I insist on treating you as an individual, a tangible human being made of flesh and blood. This is why I continue to anthropomorphize you. You are, as it were, what I decide you are. On a good day you are kind and considerate. I can hear it in your voice and can imagine your look of warm concern. Your rotund figure is one day flabby and covered in old fashioned bling, a fob watch folded into your rippling pin stripped waistcoat as you puff on your cigar and address my deepest concerns. You ask after my family and I ask after yours. You live in a house not far from mine and socialize with the grocer, the taylor, the bike shop owner and, occasionally, me.
I know I am a deluded being.

You thinks I fantasize too much but I am capable of keeping it real. I’ve dipped into books like Liar’s Poker and seen the gleam in your collective eye. Lately I’ve begun a List of Ignominy. Here is how it begins:

Bankers,
Accountants,
Bookkeepers,
Traders,
Car manufacturers,
Insurance executives,
Realtors,
Mortgage adjusters...

...you get the idea. Believe me Artists and Homeowners are on the list somewhere. I just didn’t get to them yet and the above does not reflect, necessarily, the order of ignominy. This is the problem. Everyone goes on the list, EVERYONE! We’re ALL either stupid or greedy, or evil or naive or all of the above.
Sometimes the being I imagine behind that polished wooden desk at the bank as I pine for something that probably never was, is a therapist. That is fine but really, dull as it seems, all I crave is genuine financial advice.

If you grow my assets I’ll grow yours. Creepy as it sounds doesn’t that make fundamental sense? Instead I all too often feel as if you are taking advantage of me. What you look like then in my imagination would take up too much of my time just now and time is, as you have always taught me, MONEY. Honestly I do not have the time to write you these letters as they do not earn me a dime. I do have to ask myself: Is this time well spent?

Sincerely,

KC

PS—I do have some assets. One is my inclination to remain polite even when most tried. As angry as I ever get I remain inclined to leaving the doors open for further (totally imagined) dialogue.