Don't Wash the Bankers! (Spoonerism alert!)

Gordon Broon's receipe for helping us climb out of the credit crunch cesspit, into which we all plunged up to our armpits at the back end of last year, when his imaginary floor gave way beneath our feet, as at some latter-day Synod of Whitby, is that we should give up bashing the bankers.

Enough is enough, he cries, it's time to forgive and forget, they have suffered for too long, ect ect, chiz chiz.

I'm sorry, but that is bollocks. In the words of the late Margaret Thatcher, "No, no no no, no, NO!" They haven't suffered nearly enough. True, a few thousand lower level employees have been sacrificed by those who caused the mess in the first place, to try and invoke some general sympathy for the banking sector, and I do feel sorry for these people, because they know find themselves unemployed as a result of the actions of their supposed superiors and betters, who seem to have treated them in what is called in management jargon "the Mushroom Method" (keep them in the dark, then drop them in the shit).

But the rest of them? Have they suffered? Apart from a perfunctory, fingers-crossed behind the back apology in front of a House of Commons Committee? Have they buggery! And in any case, these banks in general are the people who saw fit to treat us, their customers, with such arrogance and such disdain in the past, with their megolamaniac demands that we identify ourselves and their snarty little letters that charge us £20 when we might have gone overdrawn. Well, no.

I'm sorry. We own their sorry asses now, and the boot is firmly on the other foot. My foot. Like all bullies, they can dish it out, but they can't take it. Well, tough. While I have got the boot, I will continue to apply it to whatever tender regions of their anatomy I can find, until someone starts to say sorry, and to treat me with some respect.