Money, Maleness, and Fear

Mike Simi's Vague Menace


Your penchant for stretching your associatives all the way to the very edge of outrageous and then snapping us back into a stinging reality of compromised derivation and rehash letdowns yet again does no jistice to any semblance of greatness that could actually exist in this work. Not that I'm saying it does exist, because it does not. It is hard to determine, what did come first, the the hack critic or the unexceptional art? Who cares, it's all a vicious cycle. Case on point, Mr. Simi, who long ago caved and lost his edge and now is left trifling with neurotic, idiosyncratic indulgent notions he spends far more time fabricate physically than conceptually, thus giving the effect of a dull lecture or a boring film. Is it Seattle or is it the artists? Is it you or the Art? Just why does everyone leave for the shallow promise if the American Art Dream?
when i read comics, jokes, books, poems, or watch films, or listen to arguments, or read blog comments i demand to be entertained. simply put, i like narratives. i like art with narratives. this art by somebody i don't know is telling a story. i find the story to be entertaining. thank you.
Marcel Duchamps called, he wants his hand truck back.