“SPAM: A Classic Reimagined”

 

In conjunction with the release of Fools & JPEGs

 

In SPAM: A Classic Reimagined, Mondoir serves a satirical feast of visual irony. Each artwork mimics the familiar SPAM can—but instead of processed meat, these tins are filled with the processed detritus of the internet age: phishing emails, bot-generated noise, crypto scams, unsolicited DMs, and algorithmic nonsense.

 

But here’s the twist—unlike the fate of most digital art today, none of these works are minted on the blockchain. Why? Because not every image deserves a ledger entry. Not every creation needs a “floor price.” And frankly, not everything needs to be immortalized in code to mean something.

 

Printed on CNC-cut wooden boards, these digital pieces become physical objects. They’re tangible. Limited. A nod to craftsmanship in an era obsessed with metadata. This isn’t a rejection of Web3—it’s a call for intention within it. A reminder that minting without meaning is just another form of spam.

 

The exhibition launches alongside Mondoir’s second book, Fools & JPEGs—a brutally honest reflection on the illusions, delusions, and contradictions of the digital art and NFT space. In a world where provenance is idolized and “rarity” is algorithmically generated, Mondoir shrugs and says:

“Who am I? Why should you care where it came from?”

 

“SPAM: A Classic Reimagined”

 

In conjunction with the release of Fools & JPEGs

 

In SPAM: A Classic Reimagined, Mondoir serves a satirical feast of visual irony. Each artwork mimics the familiar SPAM can—but instead of processed meat, these tins are filled with the processed detritus of the internet age: phishing emails, bot-generated noise, crypto scams, unsolicited DMs, and algorithmic nonsense.

 

But here’s the twist—unlike the fate of most digital art today, none of these works are minted on the blockchain. Why? Because not every image deserves a ledger entry. Not every creation needs a “floor price.” And frankly, not everything needs to be immortalized in code to mean something.

 

Printed on CNC-cut wooden boards, these digital pieces become physical objects. They’re tangible. Limited. A nod to craftsmanship in an era obsessed with metadata. This isn’t a rejection of Web3—it’s a call for intention within it. A reminder that minting without meaning is just another form of spam.

 

The exhibition launches alongside Mondoir’s second book, Fools & JPEGs—a brutally honest reflection on the illusions, delusions, and contradictions of the digital art and NFT space. In a world where provenance is idolized and “rarity” is algorithmically generated, Mondoir shrugs and says:

“Who am I? Why should you care where it came from?”

 

This collection doesn’t ask to be verified.

It dares you to question why you needed verification in the first place.

This collection doesn’t ask to be verified.

It dares you to question why you needed verification in the first place.

SPAM: A Classic Reimagined

Before it became a metaphor for digital noise, SPAM was a can of meat.

Introduced by Hormel Foods in 1937, SPAM gained global popularity during World

War II, when its long shelf life and affordability made it a staple in military rations. By the

1950s, it had become a cultural icon—ubiquitous, instantly recognizable, and polarizing.

Its second life began in 1970, thanks to Monty Python’s legendary sketch. Set in a café

where every menu item contains SPAM, the sketch features the word being chanted

repeatedly until it drowns out all other dialogue. The scene was absurd, surreal—and

prophetic.

When early internet forums and chat rooms emerged in the 1980s and 1990s, users

borrowed the term spam to describe unwanted, disruptive messages flooding

conversations. The parallel was perfect: repetitive, irrelevant, and impossible to ignore.

The word stuck.

Today, spam is no longer just email.

It’s bots in your replies, scams in your inbox, algorithmic clickbait, fake giveaways, and

content engineered for virality rather than meaning.

In short: it’s the background noise of the digital age.

SPAM: A Classic Reimagined is both a tribute and a critique.

In this series, I reimagine the SPAM can as a visual container for the absurdities of our

current moment. Each work represents a different strain of modern digital excess—social

media saturation, crypto hype, unsolicited messages, AI-generated fluff, and the

attention economy's endless churn. These pieces are playful on the surface, but pointed

underneath. They’re funny until they’re not.

And unlike most digital art, these works are not NFTs.

They were created digitally, yes—but deliberately made physical.

Each piece is printed on CNC-cut wooden board and produced as a limited edition.

No token. No mint. No smart contract.

Because:

“Minting without meaning is just another form of spam.”

Not every image needs a blockchain.

Not every creation needs a floor price.

And not everything needs to be immortalized in code to be worth remembering.This exhibition coincides with the release of my second book, Fools & JPEGs—a raw,

satirical look at the contradictions of the digital art world and the NFT space. It critiques

the mindless race to mint, to sell, to pump, without ever asking why we create in the first

place. It’s a challenge to artists and collectors alike:

Are we making meaning,

or just adding to the noise?

This is not a rejection of technology.

It’s a demand for intention.

It’s a reminder that art must be more than metadata.

SPAM: A Classic Reimagined is my response.

A shelf of irony. A mirror of excess.

And a celebration of what happens when digital art grows a backbone—and takes up

space in the real world.

So, no—there is no provenance.

There is no QR code.

There is no token to redeem.

There’s just a can.

A message.

And maybe, a little clarity.

With Love

Amir Soleymani - Mondoir