Cobblestone Bridge

This is called Cobblestone Bridge. It could be called Jimmy Horowotz, it wouldn't affect one's response to the "painting." The bridge leads to a structure that has 7 funnels of smoke coming out of 5 chimneys, and which smoke is rising to the cartoon skies above. What the fuck is going on in there, Nazi's burning Jews? It can't be that fucking cold in there, it looks pretty calm on the outside, there's a fucking swan relaxing dead beneath the surface in the sewer, so what's with the fucking infernos? The building next to it has the fires on too. There's another house on the left that has the coalfires blazing. Is everyone inside all the houses insane? Are the buildings actually on fire and the flames just haven't come through the windows yet? Let's see what our artist has to say about this inspiring wonderland of incineration:

"Recently Nanette and I explored a new corner of the British Isles: the Hampshire region in southwest England. As we walked its quaint paths, I felt a longing for a time when rambling was a preferred mode of transportation. Cobblestone Bridge is bathed in the light of a golden nostalgic sunset, the glow of oil lamps, firelight in the thatch-roofed cottages, and the yearnings in my heart. The stately old bridge is constructed with fieldstones and the thatched roofs are built up from bundles of reeds. In the world of Cobblestone Bridge, man and nature live in God's perfect balance. While we visited, Nanette and I shared in that harmony.

— Thomas Kinkade"


Cobblestone Bridge is bathed in the light of the yearnings in Thomas Kinkade's heart. Good God Awmighty. If this ain't poetry and inspiration in a bottle I don't know what is. I thought I liked the painting before, but now, reading this, I am squirting cum all over the room from my now astoundingly-huge-with-delight dick. I am driven to wonder, amid all this poesy, what would actually constitute the yearnings in Thomas Kinkdade's heart? After all, he is never too specific about his swooning, Life's Super-OK utterances, you know. They are generally pretty fucking vague and nebulous and nougat-like in their ease of digestion. They are not really measuring rods of exactitude. They are not exactly words that would push anyones' buttons. He does not use a highly-charged communicational tone. Things are generally pretty laid back and relaxed, in a kind of "Jesus is right here with us thanks to me, don't you know" sort of way, you see. Returning to the picture if I may?....this truly is a wonderland alright; the stream in the backround portion appears to be terraced. As though it is a cobblestone stream. That IS nice. A stone-terraced stream. It's like Disneyland for parchment-brained octogenarians with Alzheimers who see this sight new, every second, with no ability to accrue any kind of judgement upon it. So let's install a terraced stream!! Who gives a shit!! Only geezers will ever see it: and geezers are, as I believe I said before, totally fucked up, so, as I believe I said before, who gives a shit. For this is the Disneyland of Little Painted Pik-tee-yew-werzz. A world of eye-pablum for idiots. He says the scene is bathed in the light of sunset. This is clearly something only Thomas Kinkade can see, for one reason or another. Nothing in this picture is bathed in any kind of light other than the all-present pallor of uniformity. It is like the viewer has just operated a gigantic flash attachment that has illuminated all surfaces equally. Paintings of things in the sunset do not get any worse than this. What gets me is that he actually ruminates on this artistic squalor and rambles on about things nobody else can see, like someone talking about a giant rabbit next to them. There is one good thing to be said about the Thomas Kinkade "art" phenomenon: it should efficiently destroy the litho, glicee, paint-spray painting-duplication business once and for all. So all you painters with some actual talent who live off your reproductions?....when enough of this guy's pissed-off customers accrue enough knowledge from their own folly and get halfway educated about art and as a result your own business falls victim in the backlash, you'll have this guy to thank. He's like a one-man mortgage-loan
house of cards Or in this case, house of lithos, glicees, computer-inked dupes, and inherently worthless originals.