Recent Changes

Kaiko Manson
5-9-12
Cancerie
{25-42_flame_art_evoke_fire.jpeg} Born Again in Flame
I took the subway down to Main Street I always did. The metal contraptions fascinated me, and the people amazed me. There were African Americans, Chinese, Japanese, Polynesians, gay, straight, and even retards sitting right next to me. At this moment it occurred to me that maybe if my parents had never met I could be one of these people but with my personality. New york really was a mixing pot of life. Rex caught my eye and I remembered why I was in this infernal contraption in the first place I had a job. I slid my tough callused hand through my hair brushing it back as I pushed my meaningless thoughts out of my head. I carefully checked my holster pretending to grab for my wallet lest any wary eyes be were watching. Immediately my hand recognized the familiar shape and weight of my beloved colt 45. I liked that gun, it had this cold intensity that made you feel its hunger for death. I didn't like killing but at least my gun was honest.

Kaiko Manson
5-9-12
Cancerie {25-42_flame_art_evoke_fire.jpeg}
{25-42_flame_art_evoke_fire.jpeg} Born Again
I took the subway down to Main Street I always did. The metal contraptions fascinated me, and the people amazed me. There were African Americans, Chinese, Japanese, Polynesians, gay, straight, and even retards sitting right next to me. At this moment it occurred to me that maybe if my parents had never met I could be one of these people but with my personality. New york really was a mixing pot of life. Rex caught my eye and I remembered why I was in this infernal contraption in the first place I had a job. I slid my tough callused hand through my hair brushing it back as I pushed my meaningless thoughts out of my head. I carefully checked my holster pretending to grab for my wallet lest any wary eyes be were watching. Immediately my hand recognized the familiar shape and weight of my beloved colt 45. I liked that gun, it had this cold intensity that made you feel its hunger for death. I didn't like killing but at least my gun was honest.
Rex nodded to me as we reached our stop. "Rex give me the jist?" I muttered. "He owes us money." Rex retorted with his low but raspy voice. Old Rex, he was a man of few words. We walked until we reached an alley that smelled like roses and a faint tint of blood. We slowly snuck into the old Mexican bar through the back door in the alleyway. Old Rex liked to surprise his prey and strike fear in em. He did it anyway because he had a gruesome scar running down his cheek and he nearly reached eight feet. Rex played Football but couldn't go pro due to his habit of leaving people that gave him dirty looks in the hospital. But anyway we surprised the hell out of the fat Mexican storeowner who had to spin his chair all the way around to see us because his neck was so thick. I pulled out my colt and secured the area. You don't have to be the cops to secure an area. It doesn't take much training you just peep around all the hiding spots and shoot at anything that moves. The difference between the cops and us was that we didn't give a crap what we shot; our policy was shoot first and not care about who it was later. After concluding the battlefield had no trip mines, I decided that today was not going to feature a shoot out. I was extremely disappointed.

Kaiko Manson
{gangster08.jpeg} PeerGangsta Bear!!Peer judgment
You are scared of what you can't comprehend
Every time I walk by you got Kaiko phobia

1-19-12
The Summer of White Widows
{Black_Widow_11-06.jpeg} Beautiful yet Deadly
The summer of Black widows by Sherman Alexie is a metaphor of the coming and going of white people in the lives of the Native Americans. The spiders are the white people, their stories and more importantly their influence. The white people that came to the Native Americans in this instance came on ships and other advanced transportation that the Americans did not understand; therefor in the minds of the Native Americans they came with the rain.
The white people at the time came into American villages pillaged their crops and raped the American women. In the poem one of the stories fell into an American girl's hair this represents a white man coming in and raping the young American woman. In the poem the Native American people had to tuck their pants into their boots when they walked through the fields. This line is a metaphor of how the white intruders stole the Native American crops leaving only waste behind.

Roger's Fight
{part-time-indian1.jpeg} Shermanʻs Work of Art
"Hey punk why did you hit Junior?" I yelled at the Indian kid who had elbowed Junior in the head.
The paramedics had just taken Junior of the court and I wanted answers. The coach ran up to me and told me to let it go. I shrugged him off and walked over to the kid that had hit Junior.

Roger's Fight
{part-time-indian1.jpeg}
"Hey punk why did you hit Junior?" I yelled at the Indian kid who had elbowed Junior in the head.
The paramedics had just taken Junior of the court and I wanted answers. The coach ran up to me and told me to let it go. I shrugged him off and walked over to the kid that had hit Junior.

Kaiko Manson
Peer{gangster08.jpeg} Peer judgment
You are scared of what you can't comprehend
Every time I walk by you got Kaiko phobia