Norman Rockwell's The Connoisseur (1962)
The above piece, perhaps the greatest possible indictment against Abstract Expressionism ever imagined, is referenced in Steve Sailer's post on "the triumph of American art during the early Cold War years over stodgy Moscow-approved socialist realism as fashion" — Abstract Expressionism and the CIA.
Noting that the "imperial art was depersonalized (an asset in the global twilight struggle for the allegiance of peoples who all looked different), cool, enigmatic," Mr. Sailer says, "Rather than overpower the spectator, it undermined the viewer's self-confidence (as in Norman Rockwell's genial The Connoisseur)."
Was the great Norman Rockwell, then, unwittingly or not (not that it matters), an old school American anti-imperialist, à la Mark Twain? I'd like to think so, but as Mr. Sailer's first commenter says, "This is just weird." Whatever the case, it's every bit as great a parody as is the Circle Jerks' American Heavy Metal Weekend.