There’s a song on Laurie Anderson’s
2010 album Homeland titled only an expert. In her inimitable
vocal, half said, half sung, she wryly repeats:
Now only an expert can deal with the
problem
Because half the problem is seeing
the problem
And only an expert can deal with the
problem
Only an expert can deal with the
problem
One thing everyone knows about the
global financial crisis is that it’s a problem. We exist in a world that breeds
problems - which require experts. So who are the experts who can deal with
the problem? Apparently not Post, who state that they are (a) not experts on
the subject and (b) decided not to do any research. They didn’t want to know.
They wanted to spend an hour appearing to make it up, out of scraps of
information they had acquired inadvertently, osmotically, from the atmosphere
of problems.
They were pretty sure the crisis
kicked off with some mortgages sold by Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac (which,
improbably, are real companies), that people couldn’t repay (leading to
problems), but this initial point of fact leads to a sprawling, projected
napkin diagram that returns equally regularly to corn and Hasbro games.
Coincidences, incidental similarities, and misunderstandings escalate and get
knitted into an absurd, tenuous narrative. The more it gets repeated and the
more champagne they consume, the more they seem convinced by themselves.
It’s basically three women on stage
getting drunk and talking shit about how everything is connected.
And it doesn’t make sense because,
as promised, they don’t really know anything about the financial crisis, which
is kind of funny because we probably don’t either, because - honestly - we get
that it was something to do with mortgages, but beyond that the whole thing
makes about as much sense to us as a napkin diagram produced by three drunk
women slightly obsessed with corn.
Which, as a piece of theatre, seemed
a bit straightforward, a bit fleeting. It wasn’t really as funny as I thought
it would be. Maybe it was funnier for them, because they made it up when they
were drunk and they all know each other.
But let's compare them the real
experts, who caused a lot of problems by talking shit about the value of some
valueless financial products, wound up crashing an insanely interconnected
economy and then (however improbable this ought to be) drinking a lot of
champagne paid for by you and me, and feeling very pleased with
themselves.
Only an expert can cause those kinds
of problems.
Look at it again: three performers
are on stage. You gave them your money, you’re sat obediently in your seat,
you’re listening, and now they’re acting like experts. They’ve spun you a
ridiculous story that you don’t believe, and after an hour one of them looks at
her watch - actually no, looks at a watch she borrowed off an audience member
at the beginning of the show - and tells you time’s up, the end. The show is
over.
Now back to real life: you’re sat on
your seat, looking at the experts on your screen, and all you get is a vortex
of rehashed explanations by people known for their consumption of champagne.
These experts demand a hasty binge of bailouts, bill you for them, and thank
you with blanket austerity policies. Done deal. It doesn’t matter if you don’t
believe it, because - let’s face it - you’re not an expert, and you’re not on
the screen; and it doesn’t matter if you have questions or you think this is
ridiculous, or if you want your money (or your watch) back. The show is over.
Tickets are non refundable.
And this is very funny for a group
of friends who all know each other. But not so funny for you.
