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Why I said no to Banksy’s Dismaland

dismaland banksy

#FOMO is a real thing. Real enough that I nearly spent $250 to change my flight so I could catch the last day of Banksy’s grim theme park, Dismaland. Did I think it was worth it? For that filtered, square-ready image I could tag, post, and sit back while the likes came streaming in? Sure I did – until my boyfriend scoffed, “that’s exactly what Banksy wants you to do”.

And that stuck with me. The whole concept of Dismaland is forged around consumerism and the malleable victims who succumb to the products they think they should love – or more accurately, the products they’re told to love. 

So, what’s next? If Banksy can attract thousands of people, lemming-like, to a decrepit interpretation of the happiest place on Earth, perhaps he could lure us into a permanent place of misery if we believed it was worth sharing on social media. That’s a bit extreme, but you get my point. And don’t get me wrong, I’m an advocate of his work and once you see beyond my hypocrisy, you’ll understand even Banksy himself would applaud my decision to boycott Dismaland.

So I’m sitting back and forgoing the entire commotion (sans the unavoidable snippets on social media) and saying no to consuming the most anti-consumerist experience possible. It’s the only option that really makes sense.

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