“The works on this website are the stuff of pure ego. There is nothing in them that does not directly serve their creator. Indeed, these creations constitute nothing more than the fumbling of a madman, clutching desperately at absurdities in a futile attempt to make sense of the human condition.
It is nonsense to a word, unsurprising from one such as he–an over-sensitive fool inclined to melancholy and madness. Were it that I had my way he’d have thrown himself from a cliff already, for then I’d not be wasting precious ink deconstructing the floundering, unintelligible soul of the man. Truly he is l’homme pathetique.
If you are unfortunate enough to be reading this, I urge you, post-haste, to be away from here and do not chance again upon this place. Each moment you spend here shall drag on to pointless infinity devoid of purpose or meaning. Be away!
As such, I declare (with no measure of regret) that Michael Scott Hand is terrible at everything he turns his hand to, failing inimitably and without exception.
Michael exists in a realm apart from ours; one existing soley for his own amusement.”
— Kathrus Hawthorne, “Review of Unknown Artists, 1866”
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Michael Scott Hand 