Face Value: Phil Collins, Banksy, and Prison

For the uninitiated, Phil Collins Day occurs the day after Valentine's Day. I was introduced to Phil Collins Day last year when I attended the parade, randomly, on a bitterly cold night in Greenpoint. Since then, I've become friends with the founder of said holiday, who can be seen happily bopping by the camera at about 0:29 in this video.

Heather felt that last year's extravaganza, complete with a paper mâché rendition of the leading man's famed widow's peak and a marching band, lacked the deep, introspective and personal engagement that she envisioned when she invented the holiday almost ten years ago. So this year was more intimate, and we gathered in a warehouse/art gallery in northern Greenpoint to be artsy, create Phil masks, spraypaint stencil t-shirts, and enter a confessional booth to tell The Man Himself deep and profound secrets about love. There are photos...

just like a catholic church

The booth had a two-way mirror, a video camera, and a microphone (just like my bathroom) for confessions. The anonymous confessions—we wore Phil masks to hide our identities—were compiled and allegedly sent to Phil. Everyone then started taping their masks to the gallery wall:

And then I did this to the tape dispenser:

And made some masks:

gotta confess to da pope

if phil got johnny depp's part in "crybaby"

or ahnold's part in "terminator"

T2

Then there was this piece of genius by Sarah a.k.a. Shark a.k.a. Shell...

the man with the golden voice

So, everyone considered the night a success. The Wall of Phils seemed too good not to become a permanent feature. Last Sunday, Sarah asked me to help her and Heather hang the Phil masks and I agreed. But Heather didn't get off set until very late that night and we scrapped the mission for another day. I think it was Wednesday when I sent Heather a text wondering when we would be hanging Phils but I didn't hear back from her. Coincidentally, that night I finally got around to watching Exit Through The Gift Shop, that Banksy movie from a couple of years ago. I'm not really sure how I feel about "street art", but the truth is that I like it and I don't think it should be a crime, but I guess if it were legal then it would lose some aspect of edginess (I can't believe I just wrote that). I found the film pretty entertaining, and I loved the aspect that people were willing to pay money for stuff that was legitimately terrible. Even the people they interviewed at the end, at that Mr. Brainwash show, seemed to know it was bad but were unwilling to admit that they thought as much.

Then I finally get a response from Heather, two days later:

Me: are we gonna hang phils or whut? did y'all already do it?
Heat: yes. and i just got out of jail as a result.
Me: um, wow. storytime later...

They had gone Monday night to hang Phils at the Greenpoint subway stop, and were arrested for graffiti or vandalism or something, and had spent two nights in jail all because of this:

They also had some wild stories from jail, but that isn't my place to retell. All I want to say is this: Phil, where were you? Why didn't you bail these innocent women out of prison? Fame is only worth it if you can use it for a good cause, Phil. Your day is coming, sir. The day after V-Day, 2013 (unless the world ends first).