Dear Banksy,
Thank you for bringing Dismaland to my HOME!!
When you set up your bemusement park a mere 15 minutes away
my son was thrilled. He has been a fan for many years…though that may now have
changed.
My son has Asperger’s Syndrome and the fact that he ‘got’
your work is a miracle in itself. He admired it, questioned it, and learned
from it.
As soon as he learned Dismaland was open, he dogged me to
get tickets. (When I say ‘dogged’, Aspie’s are notoriously obsessive when they
have a goal – and yes, I am the one who has to respond). Needless to say, your
abysmal website failed to produce time and time again. And sorry, you may be
cool and clever, but I am not paying £50 for tickets that cost £3, as the other
touting websites offered.
After many a rant at my inadequate attempts via the website,
my son accepted that he was going to have to chance queuing up. We worked out
a strategy to make this feel manageable, so off he went with his support
worker, full of hope and excitement.
Well, you know where this ends – in an interminable queue.
He phoned for advice having stood for two hours, only to be
told that there was the slightest chance they’d get in –AFTER the next hour it
would take to process the people with tickets, then the long queue in front of
him. They were also told that there was further queuing inside the site. If you
know anything of Asperger’s, you didn’t just create Dismaland, you created
hell.
Perhaps that’s what you wanted. It has been said that it’s all part of
the ‘dismal’ experience. Well, guess what – I don’t appreciate having a
miserable reality forced upon the world I work really hard to make pleasant for
a young man who faces crap every day.
Thanks for hurting him and disappointing him. Thank you for
your witty cruelty.
As your brochure says, ‘It’s not art unless it has the
potential to be a disaster’.
Congratulations on your art: I’m still fixing the disaster.
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