An Analysis of the Thomas Kinkade Calendar for February
An Analysis of the Thomas Kinkade Calendar for February
by Drew Dernavich
This month’s painting is all about journeys.
Columbus setting out for the new world. Greek soldiers descending on Troy to recapture the beautiful Helen. The ancient Israelites entering the Promised Land. These were legendary journeys of discovery, vengeance, and deliverance, and they all took place on water. And what was the vehicle that allowed them? Boats, mostly. And Moses. But it is boats, both physically and metaphorically, that allow you to venture out into lands unknown to experience a new adventure, or perhaps just a fresh start in life.
But, let’s face it: why take a sailing vessel somewhere when there are charming little footbridges to walk across? And so in this painting, “The Bridge of Hope,” that is what we see. Clearly, this painting is symbolic. The viewer is placed in the foreground, in a lush and idyllic forest hideaway with manicured masonry, but we can recognize the territory on the other side of the bridge, which is yet another lush and idyllic forest hideaway with manicured masonry. So, wait: what is this journey about? Where is the hope? Which side is it on? And where is the Bridge of Hope souvenir shop? The answer to all these questions is quickly realized when we pan out to look at the entire page. And that answer is: branding.
Do you notice what was in the right-hand corner where we started our journey? It was Kinkade’s signature. Or, it’s not really a signature, exactly, but a market-conscious and carefully typeset monogram that’s signature-reminiscent. And what is in the upper left hand corner, where our journey concludes? Yes, it’s Kinkade’s name, but now also there is a new title — “Painter of Light” — and a slick logo to go with it. This is Kinkade’s own journey: the transformation from a man into a brand, from a lone warrior poet into the commander of the Kinkadian army. And what the picture tells us is that this was a journey that smelled like forsythia, and where he didn’t have to get his Skechers Shape-ups wet. Lest you doubt it, look at the giant subliminal TM hidden in the bridge. May the road rise to give you marketing tips, young traveler.
This is also Kinkade at his most political. Who builds bridges? It is corporations, not people. And while the Kinkade corporation can churn out widgets of inspiration, only a robust public works department can build actual infrastructure. This is what the painter seems to be crying out for in this image. Which of our politicians has talked about building a bridge to the 22nd century? None of them. Is the infamous “Bridge to Nowhere” project completed yet? Of course not — otherwise it would be to Somewhere. Ask the residents of Terabithia. Their bridge turned out to be complete fiction.
So, are you listening, America? We need to produce future Painters of Light. We need the Painter of Affordable Vacation Homes, Painter of After It Rains And It’s All Shimmery Looking, Painter of Faces Where The Eyes Follow You, etc. But we can’t get there from here. It’s up to you, Washington.
Previously: January
Drew Dernavich is a cartoonist for the New Yorker magazine (not that cartoonist — the other one) and the co-creator of the cartoon improv show Fisticuffs! He is on Twitter.
How's That 'Times' Paywall Doing? Eh, So-So
Working on the Times media desk has for the last few years seemed like a rough and thankless job, and certainly the last few people there reporting on print media seemed like they were more than a bit unhappy. (Or were at least phoning it in.) Which is to say, we are not here to express rancor about today’s media desk report: “In the six months ended Sept. 30, The Times had the second-largest paid subscription Web site among newspapers behind The Wall Street Journal’s 537,469 subscribers, according to the Audit Bureau of Circulations.”
Ooh, second-best newspaper! Great! So… how many paid digital subscribers does the paper have? Well….
First they put up a wrong number, which, hey, it happens. (From the correction: “The number provided — 390,000 — included digital subscriptions to The International Herald Tribune, which were offered beginning in November. (That figure has been deleted.)” (Others have noted that there were four errors in the story.)
And then… that number wasn’t replaced. I see.
From the press release on the quarterly and year-end earnings: “As of quarter end, paid subscribers to all of the Company’s digital subscription packages, e-readers and replica editions totaled about 406,000.” But that’s all of the papers — like, including the Boston Globe. (Which at least tells us that the (very pretty) Boston Globe did not get a lot of subscribers real fast!) And what’s the “unsubscribe” rate, anyway? Are these all subscribers, or initial subscribers? How much turn-over is there? Dunno.
Would you like more detail? Sure you would, why else are you reading such boring media business things? Here: “The New York Times sold about 43,000 paid subscriptions to its Web site in the third quarter, which is down from the 224,000 it sold in the paywall’s first full three months of operation in the spring.”
And the quarter four numbers are…. to be revealed shortly.
The Possibility Of Life On Other Planets
Is there life on other planets? With the universe so vast and our knowledge of it so infinitesimal, it would be foolish person who bluntly offered an answer one way or another, which is why it does not fill me with any amount of pleasure to have to tell you that no, there is not, give me a break, if there were living beings on other planets we would already be working in their salt mines or they ours, depending on who had the better technology. I’ve heard all the arguments about how it’s remarkably shortsighted and even Earthling-essentialist to assume that we are so fortunate and unique to be on the only habitable space in all of creation, but quite frankly I am not totally sure that there is even life here. You know that religion whose main tenet is the belief that the idea of human consciousness is actually a shared delusion born out of the troubled sleep of a giant sea turtle living on top of the world? (It’s called the “Reform” movement of Judaism.) That is actually probably true. We’re all living in a tortoise’s nightmare and none of this matters. (Or at least that’s what I tell myself when the crippling burdens of existence — the shame and sorrow that make something as simple as running downstairs to check the mail seem like an epic ordeal with no hope of survival so why would you even bother when you can just keep sitting there on your couch with your shirt off and your chest hair matted with tears and pita chips — seem too much to bear.) But so long as we are all part of the same bad dream, we might as well pull together, go to this new habitable planet they found, and start strip-mining it. I mean, at least it’s something we’re good at, according to the turtle.
Photo by Dariush M., via Shutterstock
Smart, Sportsy Things For You To Say During Super Bowl XLVI
Want to be a pretentious show-off with your friends this weekend when the big game is on? But you don’t know the difference between the infield fly rule and a two-line pass (or even to what sports they apply)? Well, it’s OK. Sports radio enthusiast and noted laundromat-lurker Jim Behrle, who graced us with his haiku picks this NFL season, has once again written down a cheat sheet of smart-sounding things you can spout during the Super Bowl! Remember, always take a pause in the middle of every sentence for maximum gravitas. Don’t choke on a nacho while you opine!
PRE-GAME
“During their last meet-up in the Super Bowl the Giants wrote the book on how to beat Tom Brady. Interior pass rush with pressure straight up the middle and meanwhile hitting receivers at the line of scrimmage. Also, not giving Brady the ball back with a chance to win the game in the fourth quarter.”
“If the Giants’ secondary can contain the young tight ends of the Patriots it could be a bleak day for them. Hernandez is fast and Gronkowski has great hands. If they’re allowed to dominate they can eliminate the Giants front four as a major factor. Their crossing patterns take less time to transpire than one of those Wes Welker scampers.”
“If Gronkowski’s foot isn’t 100% this will be a blowout worse than LaBalme’s Massacre. Look it up on Wikipedia.”
FIRST HALF
“Listening to NBC’s Cris Collinsworth opine upon football and life is like listening to one of the Polonius speeches in Hamlet. Minus the Shakespeare and the desire to sit through it. He talks like a drunk uncle but is as obvious, wooden and boring as January Jones eating a sandwich and then vomiting it back up.”
“Giants wide receiver Victor Cruz is just delightful.” (Nothing else needs to be said about him.)
“The Patriots’ defenses may be statistically one of the worst in the league, but they keep teams in front of them and limit the damage in the Red Zone. The Giants stats aren’t that much better. The best thing both defenses have done is become better each and every week. There’s no reason to think that they both won’t play their best football of the season today.”
“The Giants shouldn’t rely on Eli Manning for more 4th Quarter heroics. Long drives with lots of straight-ahead running is their best bet. Whereever Vince Wilfork lines up, run the other way. If they can control the ball and the clock, they’ll put Brady into positions for him to be at his Favreian worst; trying to put balls into small windows and into double coverage. He’s handsome, but sometimes Tom is dumb, too.”
“Ah, Brady often tends to second-guess himself at the line, trying to read the blitz when maybe no blitz is forthcoming.”
“The Patriots were way better when they used to tape other teams’ practices.”
“I bet Jets’ coach Rex Ryan is crying somewhere right now.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Super Bowl MVP ends up being Patriots running back BenJarvus Green-Ellis.”
HALFTIME
“The more I think about Tarantino’s semi-amusing deconstruction of Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin’ in Reservior Dogs the more wrong-headed it seems to me. The song isn’t about the pain of deflowering, but once again feeling nervous butterflies due to the anticipation and excitement that goes along with being deflowered. It’s about feeling special, really giving yourself to someone — taking a huge sexual step with one person your first time. Wanting to feel that again: excited, anticipatory, breathless. Before the time when sex was just another thing to do: trying to recreate when it’s the most important thing you’ve ever done. Feeling that.”
SECOND HALF
“I bet Los Angeles gets a new football franchise before the U.S. gets another Republican president.”
“Did you know that Patriots’ punter Zoltan Mesko is actually Voltron’s cousin?”
“Football will never approach the sheer beauty of a well-fought soccer game. But American football games are so much more satisfying. All the scoring and all the hits make it kind of a perfect morsel.”
“Soon helmets will be made of something soft like leather, again. Something with a little give. You’ll see a lot less trying to stop a man with your face, and a lot more open-field running and tackling. With zero concussions.”
“When the NFL starts seriously testing for HGH all of these players will probably be suspended. Only Tim Tebow will be left. Until they prohibit in-game assistance from God.”
“Belichick isn’t an evil genius. He probably just has Asperger’s.”
POST-GAME
“Pitchers and catchers start showing up for spring training in the next two weeks!”
“’The Voice’ makes about as much sense as HBO’s ‘Luck.’ Minus the David Milchian iambic psychogarble. But with the very same level of self-importance.”
“I’m already looking forward to next year’s Letterman and Oprah ad. Who will star in it with them? President Romney and Vice President Gingrich, no doubt.”
Jim Behrle tweets at @behrle for your possible amusement.
Don't Even Try to Make "Man Slippers" Happen
“Given the recent stateside popularity of the espadrille…the evening slip-on has big potential for a life outside the opera house.”
— GIRL. NO.
Chicken Mushroom Casserole For The Lazy Snob
As we settle into the long, cold, dark days that come with the final slog through winter, we — your pals from The Awl and The Hairpin — will be bringing you some of our favorite casserole recipes (and crockery recommendations). But these won’t be just any old casseroles! No, no, that won’t do at all. These are fancy casseroles — or at least, not-gross ones.
Truth be told, this is a recipe born of laziness.
You ever have those days where you decide upon waking up that you are simply not going to step foot outside your home, barring a house fire or catastrophic flood? I often find that the notion of having to interact with other humans is more than I can bear, and the most soothing balm for the frayed nerves that come along with having to be a functioning member of society most days of the week is to hide behind a locked door on the weekend. As a great lover of arbitrary and vaguely punishing self-imposed rules, however, I make bargains with myself, like, “You can squirrel yourself away in the apartment, but you have to wash the floors and you aren’t allowed to order food. You’ll make do with what you have in the home.” Because, basically, I guess I’m my own evil stepmother?
It just so happened that on one such day, my refrigerator and pantry contained the dregs of a Whole Foods grocery run and not much else. A few chicken breasts I’d frozen, a stray onion and a package of sliced mushrooms, a bag of fancifully colored teeny potatoes I’d had such ambitions to roast after work one night and serve with a nice steak and some leafy greens but instead left sitting in the crisper drawer and, like, ate brownies for dinner instead.
And in the pantry, a can of Whole Foods-brand cream of mushroom soup. Well then! Move over gloppy Campbell’s condensed junk soup, there’s something leaner.
All these things got cut up and thrown together in a casserole dish, along with a hefty shake of black pepper and several hundred dashes of Tabasco Sauce because Tabasco Sauce is the greatest sauce in all of sauceland. And then I remembered that there was a bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream Sherry tucked away, and in my family we put Harvey’s Bristol Cream Sherry in everything. So sure, glug glug, a few splashes of the sherry and into the oven. And holy Toledo was this thing ever great, if a bit absurdly 1%ish. Like, a casserole you could feel proud to serve to, say, your editor with the notoriously snobby mouth? You know the one, the guy who yells things at you like, “KEEP YOUR GARBAGE BUTTER OUT OF MY MOUTH.” Love that guy.
Right, so let’s casserole! These are the things you need, though obviously you can adjust and add and subtract and wail about how math is hard to your heart’s content, because it’s a casserole and we don’t need to be overly precious about a casserole recipe.
1 small package sliced mushrooms
1 small yellow onion, sliced
1 bag fancifully colored teeny potatoes, halved or quartered if necessary to make everything evenly sized
1 14.5 oz. can Whole Foods organic cream of mushroom soup
1 lb. organic, free-range, Bard-educated, Mother Jones-subscribing, floaty-scarf-wearing boneless chicken breasts, cut into chunks
Harvey’s Bristol Cream Sherry, several splashes
Black pepper and/or Tabasco to taste
And then this is what you’ll do with these things: mix them together in a casserole dish and bake at 350 covered for 25 minutes, uncovered 20 minutes. You can also parboil the potatoes if they’re on the larger side and you’re worried they won’t cook all the way through.
BOOM. Chicken mushroom casserole for the 1%. Serve tax-free.
Jolie Kerr secretly serves her editor garbage butter. Photo by Ming-yen Hsu, via Flickr.