Koller displays tasteful whimsy, not to be confused with the exploitative, deplorable, nauseating fuzziness of Thomas Kinkade, who should be hung by his big toe for slandering the term "art" by applying it to his mass-produced drivel. I once watched a Dateline documentary on how Kinkade is slandering not only creativity, but also religion by implying that his works are divinely inspired. Last time I checked, Little Miss Muffet was not divine.
And poor Jesus. He has to deal with trying to posthumously defend himself against such foul claims of association. It is my guess that Jesus owns a few Berninis and Manets (I think he likes the theatricality of the former and the subject matter of the latter), but most definitely no Thomas Kinkades. At least, that's how I like to think of Jesus in my head. Just as I like to assume that he enjoys chocolate biscuits and caramel salted hot chocolate. And knows that when I utter words I didn't know I knew while driving in downtown Miami, that I am (at least 50% of the time!) quite sorry.
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