From the Dallas Observer last year (Pinky reads this out loud every night before bed):
As preacher and storyteller, Sale is equal parts impresario and mountebank. He is smarter and more honest than Sinclair Lewis' Elmer Gantry but as suave and debonair as Burt Lancaster's.
True to the charismatic services of Gantry, Sale performs "weddings, funerals and other events," but all under the pseudonym and alter ego of Pinky Diablo. Dressed to the satiric nines in a white suit, pink shoes and pink tie, Diablo is Liberace recast for the golden age of Prada. His 6-by-8 pink trailer sat outside the gallery on opening night. It is a nomadic exhibition space that promises "Texas-shaped flapjacks, a singing grubworm, palm-sized cattle and a few more surprises." In the hands of Diablo, the science of the Renaissance Wunderkammer becomes stuff for Ripley's Believe It or Not--a white-trash spectacle roving between city and trailer park. In keeping, though, with the image of the proverbial Renaissance man, Sale is an artist of many marvels and skills, a performer as well as sculptor of assemblage. And he speaks Flemish to boot.
That he is a man of many splendors--a skilled artist as well as clever comedian--is evident in the wry humor of his work. Trained first in art history and then in fine arts, Sale's knowledge of artful comedy through the ages is broad. Even beyond his own perverse signature of parody, evident in his pieces are the ribald influences of humorists past, from the wonder and irony of Brueghel and Hogarth to the dadaist satires of Hannah Hoch and Max Ernst to the surrealist fantasy of Joseph Cornell.
