In 2008, after nearly twenty years of blacklisting by the contemporary art market, I held a self-represented exhibition, hiring The Brick Lane Gallery for this purpose.

After the first night, the owner, Tony Taglianetti, who had agreed to be present for the duration of the show, informed me that he was suddenly, and without warning, flying to Miami to attend an art show, so would not be available to help manage the success of my show for the two week duration as agreed when I paid him £4,000 to rent the gallery many months before hand.

The next day, after Taglianetti's mysterious departure in contravention to our agreement, the gallery lighting mysteriously broke down meaning the paintings could not be seen properly.

Then the internet connection to the building was mysteriously cut off meaning we could not send shots of the show to the national news media who wished to cover it. The drains had also been blocked creating a terrible odour in the building.

Without the gallery owners presence these problems proved terminal for the show's success.

As the show progressed, without media coverage we anticipated,  the lighting completely stopped working indicating the bulbs may have somehow been swapped for faulty ones, also as evidenced by the altered positioning of spotlights.

I felt as if the show had been sabotaged.

Despite paying £4,000 to rent the gallery, and for his presence during the show, we also paid Tony Taglianetti an extra £500 to manage the PR using his contacts, however the show was also mysteriously ignored by so-called Graffiti and Street Art blogs, despite my pedigree as a Graffiti Artist dating back to 1982 and London Graffiti Writer dating back to 1987 and classical oil painting ability from the early 1990s as evidenced by my work.

Shortly after my show was sabotaged, all mention of it was mysteriously deleted from the Brick Lane Gallery website,  and then, Taglianetti suddenly received enormous promotion in the art world, opened another gallery, on Brick Lane called (wait for it) 'Tony's Gallery', ostensibly specialising in 'Street Art' culture!

This was promoted with articles in high profile art market publications, naming Taglianetti as a key Street Art curator and expert (despite him admitting to me that he knew absolutely nothing about the genre).

These articles featured Taglianetti displaying work not displaying ingenuity and virtuosity in transcendence and dedication to mastery over a medium, such as was characterised by myriad ex-vandals like myself, such as was shown at the show on his premises:

...but instead in the anti-art no-style of 'postmodernist' Tracy Emin as favoured by the jingle-monger and art dealer Charles Saatchi.

[caption id="attachment_869" align="alignleft" width="225"] Tony Taglianetti twith *ahem* 'Street Art' (Fair Use)[/caption]

I felt maybe someone was building a fallacious cult of personality around Taglianetti , and promoting a fake version of street culture,  while all knowledge of me and my work and genuine graffiti culture remained obscured. using the tactic of censorship.

I was beginning to realise what level of human  I was dealing with at this point.

Sue for defamation if any of the above is untrue. The full story is in my book.

Due to the sabotage of the lighting and internet of the Brick Lane Gallery show Alice Jones was unable to feature it in her highly influential 'Observations' column, as she had requested, through no fault of her own.

Other media including the Evening Standard who had expressed interest to feature the show, were also affected in this way, leaving me unheard of by the broader public, while those who dropped into the show told me they loved my work, and many highly skilled artists who dropped in to the show told me they had experienced similar problems of blacklisting, censorship and mysterious goings on and could not get their work seen!

At this point I realised that something very strange indeed was going on in the contemporary art world, I felt that there were people in the background pulling strings, so I decided to tackle it head on and do something about it and open a gallery in the heart of the East End of London, my 'stomping ground' as a graffiti writer in the 1980s, and the centre of the UK's art scene to show all the traditionally skilled artists, old school London graffiti writers like myself who could not get any recognition despite making amazing work...

The full story is in my book.

After finding an old /Georgian warehouse loft to rent at the top of Brick Lane myself and my partner Jenny decided to open a gallery, and I also started this blog

I sent a press release to Juxtapoz magazine of which Evan Pricco is the editor-in-chief who, and who present themselves as champions of autonomous, traditionally skilled and often urban and 'outsider' art, and had the largest circulation of any art magazine in the United States, so ,thinking may well like my work I sent a press release as well as a personal email saying how much I enjoyed their publication, and they duly responded praising my work and  published a piece shown here-

[caption id="attachment_900" align="aligncenter" width="693"] Jon Hammer aka Elate article in Juxtapoz Magazine[/caption]

However the next day it had been taken down, so I contacted them to ask why and was told by one of their staff that there must have been a mistake so they put it back up!

Then a short while later it was taken down again!

[caption id="attachment_902" align="alignleft" width="637"] juxtapoz elate jonhammer jonhammer.com censorship[/caption]

so I emailed to ask why they had taken it down again, as I thought from their response that they liked my work, and they just mysteriously stopped answering, which I thought was very rude and outrageous behaviour, from a publication which was supposed to be championing autonomous art and alternative artists.

I was absolutely disgusted and flabbergasted at my unapologetic treatment from supposed global champions of the alternative arts.

The incident indicated to me that someone had editorial control over their magazine who could override the aesthetic decisions of the editorial team at a whim and exercise Stalinist control over what Juxtapoz were fraudulently celebrating as the very epitome of freedom of expression.

At this point I knew something seriously dodgy was going on, and rather than being put off, dishearten me or scare me, it made me realise that I was onto something really big.

The full story of exactly what is going on and why, is explained by my book, and the methodology of how this mass brainwashing is being achieved will be explained by the Propaganda Watchdog.

Coming soon....

[caption id="attachment_924" align="aligncenter" width="1500"] Intended Logo for Magic Window Studios[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_908" align="aligncenter" width="700"] Warning Notice- Art Gallery Not Needed[/caption]

Coming soon...full story in my book.

The full story of this is on my blog .

The freedom loving champs of the underclass and supposed Human Rights activists at the Guardian deserve a special place on this site for their unmitigated duplicity and sheer brass neck in their manufacture of, and cover for, straw men to be shoveled as fake-news-fodder to the maw of the masses, in the place of art's rightful hierarchy, but I can't even really be bothered to write much about their apparent sabotage of content in my blog, and apparent complicity in covering up my friend's death,  because I've already gone into it in detail on my blog, the full story is in my book.

At least the redtops and rightwingers, for all their many faults, don't pretend to be bleeding heart liberals.

While invited to paint at the Arcadia Spectacular at Glastonbury,  my presence was mildly irritated by a (totally ineffective) campaign of gang stalking, intimidation and threatening graffiti by the private-school old-boys club of street art impostors and the phony liberal set, which did little more than show the attempted aggressors up for the ineffectual bullies and beta-drips that they were (and still no doubt are), as I stood up to them square toe-to-toe and fronted it out nose to nose with them on numerous occasions.

One time they were at least eight or nine -handed (with at least twenty backup) against one (me and two girls how brave) on their home ground, in the West Country, at their annual 'bash', Glastonbury, in a backstage crew bar, run by their mates- with me effectively alone, hundreds of miles from home, with no back-up  and they backed down that time, and every single time - until it took a whole field of them to simply annoy me enough to go elsewhere and enjoy my evening off with my girl.

Bet they felt great- *at last* having got at least some kind of reaction after all their futile and embarrassing efforts!  Yes I actually felt embarrassed for them, and even got the feeling that certain in their ranks (if not most of them) probably would have had more fun if they had joined me for a drink and a dance!

Envy is a terrible thing....Glastonbury is now unrecogniseable for these kind of precious idiots, it used to be a really great festival. Full details on the exact playbook errors with full disclosure is wrapped in my book and ready for release.

As Dante devotes a special place in Hell to Judas Iscariot, alongside the Devil Himself at the lowest icy pit, so I have devoted a particular place in my exposé and propaganda deconstruction to the parasitic traitors who have enabled the selling out of the countercultural movements, and their effective neutralisation of avant-garde art as a community force for the good of humankind.

Out of those traitors I have reserved a special place for those elements who sold out LSD magazine, which thrived for a while, a perfumed garden in a barren wasteland, which proved there is an alternative to the moronic monoculture of hackneyed tropes and sentimental self-congratulation of the Culture Industry’s standard fare, and that the alternative is electrifyingly exciting art.

For as each avenue of dissent has been gradually closed off one after the other, under the life-blind corporate lockstep of globalisation under neoliberalism, LSD magazine enabled a chance for the last remaining remnants of the counterculture to come together and celebrate autonomy, to hold power to account and to take the piss out of and call out the censorious usurpers, while enabling voices from all sides of the cultural divide, both credible, kitsch and confused, to voice all manner of disparate opinion.

For myself, and the countless others featured in the magazine of traditionally skilled ingenuity and outspokenness, who thus find themselves otherwise blacklisted and side-lined from access to an outlet, let alone the mainstream media, it provided a well needed outlet to air their thoughts and share their art, for the readers it provided an idea that there is an alternative to the moronic monoculture mapped out for us.

As the Alpha insurgency energy of LSD mag organically cranked up the rhetoric against the idiot imposters installed as willing shills in their temporary positions damming the flux of imagination from flowing into the temporal matrix of significance, articles flowed into ideas amidst the myriad readers and exposed the totalitarianism of the art market's imaginary commodities, gave a voice to the genuine urban poor, the genuine visionaries and not the LARPers, and thus threatened the stranglehold on truth and so ‘something had to be done’.

Being one of the key contributors working closely with the compiler, I was party to the real reason for its closure, and that is quite different from which was communicated to the readers.

The magazine suddenly ground to a halt after it was infiltrated, censored, and ultimately neutralised through veiled murderous threats of the worst possible kind, by, it would appear, the contemporary art market's agents of influence, thus conveniently stemming the last widely circulated publication of free speech from the once-rich London counterculture enabling one of the founders, (who interestingly actually contributed very little to the mag in terms of content except for arranging the horrendous covers) to continue with the project and parasite the life-blood of credibility from the effort of the magazine’s countless contributors and lump it onto those the magazine rounded on so eloquently issue after issue, enabling him to continue a legacy of tiresome ‘transfer’ of credibility from the dissent against the controlled opposition, onto the controlled opposition through a cleansed and neutralised version of the project in the form of yet another boring industry street art blog regurgitating tired PR tropes and press releases from the usual suspects, a blog which last time I looked, lacked even a comments section making damn sure there is no dissent.

I wholeheartedly embraced spending (as did many other contributors) hundreds of hours preparing content which challenged the monopoly of the art market and Culture Industry in ludicrous posturing as they re-boil the long-stripped carcass of the once proud culture to serve-up a pitiful rehash of the triumphs and discoveries of previous Alphas’, with infinitely superior minds, ideas reduced to a servile token of their once autonomous triumphalism, hollowed out and reappropriated as symbols of the new globalist fascism they counterintuitively claim to be fighting.

Now it exists, as do all the other examples of the threadbare counterculture, as an example of how not to do things, exactly what appears to have happened and by who, and how has been minutely catalogued and is safely preserved for posterity come what may.

Censorship of this kind demonstrates the weak position of the censors, illustrates their total and utter lack of confidence in themselves and their ability, a lack which exists for a very good reason indeed as they stand way out of their depth in a rising tide of awareness.