Which sounds … not irrational. But when you think of a bad bank, what do you imagine?
You walk into the lobby decorated with portraits of Bernie Madoff, past a row of tellers who are not giving out any money because they are all too busy planning to have octuplets or adopting a chimpanzee as a family member. The executive suite is empty because everybody has gone off on his or her own personal corporate jet. To lunch. Which would consist only of products made with peanut butter. And the bad bank would, of course, have a corporate softball team that was open only to employees who took steroids on a regular basis.