Rick Garland is detestable. As evidenced by his monstrous work filled with gruesome characters, he lacks sensibility and moral fiber. If his characters and narrations are any indication of his personage, he’s clearly led a life of debauchery and bad decisions that have left him a withering husk, trembling and changed by his homespun evil.

It is clear to me that Garland capitalizes on the pain of others. His seemingly innocent retelling of fairy tales is a low embezzlement of the attention of society dregs with which he associates himself, drenched in their tears with the loss of their dreams, but full of sentimentality for the days their hearts were eager and open. His character studies are blatant and shameless billboards of suffering and deceit. His action scenes so supposedly filled with drama and suspense runneth over with the thrill of the hunt, the love of the kill and the blood of the innocent, only perpetuating society’s downward spiral into violence.

Garland’s past critics have described his work as wondrous, spooky, peculiar, erratic and bizarre. Presumably with pity as their motive, they’ve omitted the qualifiers grotesque, twisted, and utterly disrespectful.

Any man, woman or child that purchases a work of Garland’s and thereby supports this whirling beacon of today’s decaying society has no one to blame but themselves for the ruin of their reputation and sub sequential descent into madness and despair.