Ethically inspired by the Poll Tax riots of 1989 myself and a friend produced a range of ten dollar T-shirts which featured the faces of Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan using F, U, C and K as halftone dots. We sold a few dozen down Camden Market and everyone thought them a hoedown hoot. This lucrative enterprise fizzled on out in six short months; the artworks filed in a basement basket for that future Klondike greenbacker boom. When the French Connection fashion retailer launched its FCUK range in 1997 with an ad campaign aggressively plugging the profanity suggested by its acronymic badge my anti-consumerist low art concept died its death. I did however keep a folio of notes which eventually became ‘The **** Shop’ manuscript. Unable to locate my original workings I’ve recreated a vulgar version of the Thatcher pic as a featured image for this post; the header above was the frontispiece. I publish here a compilation of unsolicited critical quotes:

This is like homework. Anthony McVey, Papakura NZ

I read until I saw the words, KARL MARX. Simon Firth, Southport UK

It’s OK, but I found the sex stuff rather TEDIOUS. Peter Bloxham, Lyttleton NZ

Sex digs below the surface. Keep digging. Mark Shanks, Upper Hutt NZ

I don’t get it. Anthony Harris, Wilmington UK

Warner Yance doesn’t sound like a Kiwi character. Brent Nicholas, Auckland NZ

What book? William Nacey, Pontypridd Wales

It seems a bit dense. You need to let your reader read. Robyn Foote, Remuera NZ

Stick to painting. Adam Davis, High Wycombe UK

Stick to writing. Ian Kingstone, Titirangi NZ

I started your book but just had a heart attack. I’ll get back to you. George Cleave, Te Atatu NZ

A great read. I couldn’t put it down. Gary Arkle, Wakefield UK

Fuck! About time! Robert Young, Muriwai NZ

What’s this, ‘The Thoughts of Chairman Warren’? Simon Firth, Southport UK

I bought the book in 2013. I haven’t found time to READ it yet. Aidan Crabtree, Titirangi NZ

When discussing heroin, if you’re not Kurt Cobain who gives a fuck. Johnny Pemberton, Los Angeles USA

Too many commas. Michael Ramsden, Barnsley UK

I got to page eight. Gregor Hard, Zeist Holland

  Are all genuine comments according to my misty, mouldy old memory. I struggle to figure these abstruse reactions, whose undertone would appear to be; ‘How dare you write an intelligent book about politics and science, philosophy and God. Exactly who do you think you are? I’ll NEVER read it. On principle!’
  Inferring that I’m a pretentious prick who is taking himself far too seriously – and these are the boyos to set me straight – back down a peg? Such universal dogged indifference from intelligent people I hold as friends would normally signal an inferior product vainly advanced by a delusional crank. A peevish position I roundly reject as I know I’ve provided an apposite critique of modern mores – one man’s journey – with sex and drugs and epistemology – Kant v Hegel via Lester Piggott. As a bit of a laugh?
  If any of the random respondents above had created an artwork and brought said specimen to my attention, I would’ve purchased the item the very next day and read or listened or watched it poste haste. Then I would’ve sent them an honest, positive, constructive appraisal; whether it tickled my fancy, or not.
  When I’m at the podium collecting my Nobel Prize for Literature I’ll be able say; ‘For their help and support I’d like to thank not one Cunt on Earth. Goodnight Stockholm.’