Nature's Caustic Landscape

   I have not critiqued a Thomas Kinkade mess in a while and it turns out this blog actually has acquired a reader besides me and so I guess it is time for me to update things a bit so that my readership does not get bogged down in rereads. Fortunately in the year or so since I have done anything here Thomas Kinkade has not improved. As you can see by today's selection Nature's Paradise.
   As is my custom when looking at a Thomas Kinkade picture for the first time I try to find the violations of the laws of Nature, an occurrence Thomas Kinkade is an adept at rendering.
    Let us overlook the proliferation of the wildlife petting zoo hanging around the cabin lit like the core of Vesuvius in full fury even though there is a listless almost doll like human in the canoe three feet offshore. Thomas Kinkade being Thomas Kinkade this is very likely the wooded retreat of Jesus of Nazareth and so we would expect the critters of Nature to be calm and at ease. That might even be the Jayster Himself out there in the canoe.
  Off in the distance we see a cataract of water entering the lake at a far higher rate than it is leaving the lake in the foreground. There is also a gushing froth of the trademark platinum ichor that is Thomas Kinkade Liquid entering the front pond without disturbing the surface of the water to any extent, and neither are the whatevertheyare swimming on the surface making any kind of ripple.
   There is an unused canoe in the yard in case you did not get the full campground thrill of the scene from the canoe off in the distance.
   The pine trees starting to grow in the foreground must have been planted there by the cabin owner himself because the rest of the forest is filled with trees from a lower elevation.
    Since wild turkeys do not inhabit forests of firs in the western United States, which is where this must likely be judging from the terrain, the owner of the cabin must have that one as a personal pet brought with him from Connecticut.
   On the other side of the lake there appears to be a pine forest but this must be a mistake on my part because the abrupt hill rising to the left seems to be covered with scrub from a much lower elevation.
     The scene is lit, as are all scenes in a thomas Kinkade artwork, in a universal equi-intense cartoon-like uniformity. There is no reality here, there is only playpen fun, geared to the undiscerning eye of an infant on pablum, where everything is a single comicbook intensity of light and shadowlessness. This is a wildlife scene geared to the mind of a person who has never left the home for the elderly, who was born there, lived out their life there, and died there, and was carted off to the dogfood plant for rendering into something actually usefull. When his scenes become a series of stamps from the Post Office we will then know that the Wrath of God is not far off in coming.