The Horror! The Horror!!!!!!!!!
Oct. 1st, 2001 10:36 pmIn the wake of September 11th, we must face an unprecedented and pervasive evil. Namely, Thomas Kindaid, the so-called "Painter of Light." Not only is this craven kitchmonger the most widely purchased artist (if he can be thought to hold such a title) in America, not only is he thought to have sold more paintings (and reproductions of paintings) in his lifetime than any other painter ever, but now he is opening a housing development.
A housing development!!!
Scoulless cretings with creampuffs for brains will now flock to southern California for more than just Disneyland; they will compete in bidding wars for these cutesy overstuffed cottages with cobblestone finishes and artificial snow on the roofs. They will bury themselves in the ultimate suburbia -- white, Christian, and founded on pretense. Pretense and bad taste.
It's not enough that every day I drive past new developments, that I watch a small Texas town become a cluster of gated communities around fake lakes and golf courses. It's not enough I must debase myself by shopping at chain stores and malls. No. I must stomach the deprivations of Kindaid's cult.
I don't understand it. Why? Please, somebody. . . I've studied psychology, philosophy, government, religion, music, art, and economics, but I have found no answer. Is there something profound my character lacks? Is my empathy insufficient to admit me to this communal well of saccarine sentimentality?
Perhaps their eyes simply don't register the full color spectrum. Yes, that must be it.
A housing development!!!
Scoulless cretings with creampuffs for brains will now flock to southern California for more than just Disneyland; they will compete in bidding wars for these cutesy overstuffed cottages with cobblestone finishes and artificial snow on the roofs. They will bury themselves in the ultimate suburbia -- white, Christian, and founded on pretense. Pretense and bad taste.
It's not enough that every day I drive past new developments, that I watch a small Texas town become a cluster of gated communities around fake lakes and golf courses. It's not enough I must debase myself by shopping at chain stores and malls. No. I must stomach the deprivations of Kindaid's cult.
I don't understand it. Why? Please, somebody. . . I've studied psychology, philosophy, government, religion, music, art, and economics, but I have found no answer. Is there something profound my character lacks? Is my empathy insufficient to admit me to this communal well of saccarine sentimentality?
Perhaps their eyes simply don't register the full color spectrum. Yes, that must be it.