You don't know hate.
You've never seen art, and if you did, you'd know how great an offense against all proper sensibility the attention given to this shallow approximation is.
The man is not even in the ranks of those in his field, yet he claims the distinction of being an artist, a term that not even the great Old Masters would have self applied.
Even I can name a score of Comickers leagues above him, and yet he dares to self proclaim his position as an "artist."
The man fails at being a simple craftsman, yet he claims to be gifted by the great spirit of creation.
He wallows in his own complacency, yet wantonly includes himself in Their noble company, persons who knew nothing but ambition and want of perfection.
If I had an eternity and his sins were a mere mile, I could not mark out but a micron.