KhingKOBRA

POWER

2011-12-17T20:45:00.002-05:00

Viva!

2011-11-24T11:09:00.001-05:00

Viva!

by KhingKOBRA

Fluorescent White

2011-03-25T04:44:00.002-04:00

Vulfman

2010-12-14T18:45:00.002-05:00

SHANGHAI HiFi

2010-12-10T19:54:00.001-05:00

Thrash

2010-12-05T16:09:00.002-05:00

Louis Vuitton / Birkin

2010-11-15T17:26:00.002-05:00

We Are All Decadent & Depraved

2010-10-27T16:42:00.001-04:00

$alvation

2010-10-24T11:24:00.005-04:00

Salvation is bought and sold to the young who fear what follows growing old...

LSR (Land Speed Record)

2010-09-19T07:40:00.001-04:00

The Hustler

2010-08-17T20:48:00.001-04:00

The Odyssey

2010-07-23T20:01:00.002-04:00

Gran Dutchy X

2010-06-19T16:30:00.002-04:00

Hey, Teenwolf!

2010-06-07T15:01:00.002-04:00

Hey, Pigeonhead!

2010-06-07T12:48:00.002-04:00

Gran Dutchy x KhingKOBRA: Organics

2010-04-28T11:41:00.001-04:00

Gran Dutchy x KhingKOBRA No 2

2010-04-28T10:50:00.001-04:00

Gran Dutchy x KhingKOBRA

2010-04-26T18:44:00.001-04:00

Mtn. Lair!

2010-03-12T13:11:00.002-05:00

Grillz'd

2010-03-03T14:16:00.001-05:00

All City Khings

2010-02-19T20:40:00.002-05:00

The Slayer

2010-02-11T08:56:00.002-05:00

Mickey Maose

2010-02-10T09:32:00.002-05:00

Hey, Pigeonhead!

2010-01-30T17:34:00.001-05:00

111 Archer Ave Represents.

2010-01-25T20:45:00.002-05:00

No York - Est. 1979

2010-01-16T10:25:00.002-05:00

LSR (Land Speed Record)

2010-01-15T07:48:00.011-05:00

The Past Decade in Music

2010-01-03T09:50:00.002-05:00

1) Lil Wayne - The Carter III
2) Deerhunter - Cryptograms
3) The Strokes - Is This It
4) Kanye West - Late Registration
5) Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion
6) The White Stripes - Elephant
7) Air - Talkie Walkie
8) Brian Wilson - Smile
9) M.I.A. - Kala
10) Radiohead - In Rainbows

The Past Decade in Film

2010-01-03T09:42:00.002-05:00

1) Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2
2) Wall-e
3) In The Mood For Love
4) There Will Be Blood
5) No Country For Old Men
6) The Dark Knight
7) Lost In Translation
8) Gangs Of New York
9) Where The Wild Things Are
10) Brokeback Mountain

Best Music of 2009

2009-12-31T17:28:00.001-05:00

Best Music of 2009
1. Air - love 2
2. Deerhunter - rainwater cassette exchange
3. Wavves - wavvves
4. Washed Out - life of leisure
5. Dan Deacon / Adventure - dan deacon / adventure split 12"
6. Manic Street Preachers - journal for plaugue lovers
7. Grizzly Bear - ventamist
8. Animal Collective - merriweather post pavillion
9. God Help The Girl - god help the girl
10. Bob Dylan - together thru life

Colours

2009-12-14T09:55:00.002-05:00

Skully x STONER

2009-12-06T08:45:00.002-05:00

STONER

2009-12-06T08:44:00.000-05:00

Bright Lights Big City

2009-11-07T09:16:00.001-05:00

Took this last nite at the end of my daytrip to NYC. I always thought people taking pictures of the empire state building were classless tourists but last nite as I walked down 34th street it was the first quite moment in a long, hectic day. The city was especially crazy yesterday, do in part, I think, to the ticker tape parade. The energy there was contagious but also a little exhausting. I love New York, regardless.

Untitled (American Male)

2009-10-31T09:45:00.001-04:00

100% Pure

2009-10-28T16:35:00.003-04:00

B&S: If You're Feeling Paranoid

2009-10-19T12:46:00.001-04:00

Sangrea L'Amoure 2009

2009-10-16T13:48:00.001-04:00

Skully x Lunar

2009-10-11T02:51:00.001-04:00

KhingKOBRA 8

2009-09-25T08:52:00.002-04:00

Khing Killah

2009-09-22T20:35:00.002-04:00

Skully M

2009-09-20T16:41:00.001-04:00

Skully Y

2009-09-20T16:38:00.002-04:00

Skully X

2009-09-20T15:59:00.001-04:00

Skully

2009-09-16T20:05:00.001-04:00

Treehugger - Crewneck Tee Mockup

2009-08-29T18:59:00.002-04:00

KhingKOBRA Crewneck Mockup

2009-08-29T10:57:00.001-04:00

The Ballad of The Little Prince: short fiction

2009-08-26T20:05:00.001-04:00

The Ballad of The Little Prince

His body hung their, dangling from the rafters; dead weight, quite literally. Hours later, when his mother would find him, his skin would be ashen and cold; but now it still had some colour in it. As if he was still alive, as if this little prince still had shooting stars to ride; but he wasn’t. This little prince, this prince named Nicky Powell was dead and gone. He was gone in a flash, gone how he came, in bluster and then a calm. His life had been short but powerful, like a late August hailstorm that no one forgets. Tall tales will be told; hyperbole will be left in its wake. People will talk of hail the size of melons and be certain theirs memories are true. But for one woman, his mother, these stories will be nothing more than what they are; justifications and misrememberences of her baby boy, gone too soon, gone for good.

Another MockUP - Destro Variant

2009-08-20T13:41:00.002-04:00

Le Hood

2009-08-18T13:59:00.002-04:00

Just Like Honey - Lmtd Gold Variant Deck

2009-08-17T12:09:00.002-04:00

Just Like Honey - Skate Board Design

2009-08-16T12:58:00.002-04:00

Another MockUP

2009-08-16T11:08:00.001-04:00

NCUD - New Concepts Under Development

2009-08-13T12:26:00.001-04:00

Rain an Fog: a poem

2009-08-11T13:09:00.003-04:00

Rain an Fog

by Brian James Spies

She looked me up

And I put her down

All the while she kept comin round

She said; I was her salvation, her spiritual lost an found

The worlds a stage and as much it goes round

her life and mine are gonna be bound in chains of gold and a diamond cage

No matter the season the weather in't gonna change

Rain and Fog

Rain and Fog an Shadows is all I's gonna see

For I'm bound to her as she's bound to me

Pictures from 4 July 2009

2009-08-05T19:02:00.003-04:00

Krown Royale

2009-07-29T19:35:00.002-04:00

Pictures

2009-07-29T14:06:00.001-04:00

Gentleman Skully

2009-07-27T19:54:00.001-04:00

Air America

2009-07-20T09:10:00.002-04:00

GOLD MEDAL FLOUR (Minds Playing Tricks On Me)

2009-07-19T16:08:00.001-04:00

SPIES LIKE US

2009-07-07T21:26:00.001-04:00

Handsome Brian

2009-07-07T20:54:00.002-04:00

Kobra Holocaust

2009-07-05T10:36:00.002-04:00

Happy 4th of July

2009-07-03T08:28:00.002-04:00

SPIES LIKE US

2009-07-01T09:31:00.002-04:00

Milk & Oranges: Short Fiction

2009-06-30T18:45:00.000-04:00

Milk & Oranges
by Brian James Spies

He walked up into the musky attic, mainly to get away from the people below who did not understand. He went to turn on the light only to discover that it was too dusty to do its job. He cleaned it off with his bare sweaty hand. The dusty residue felt good on his bare hand, why, he didn’t know. He heard the hard oak floor boards creak beneath his old mud-covered work boots; to him it sounded like a banshee screeching. Someone had once lived here, he could still smell him, his scent left lingering even after he wasn’t. He walked over to the mini-fridge; he took out some milk and began to drink it before he realized the power had been shut off. It was sour, sour as his insides felt. It reminded him of late nights spent with him, late nights spent talking, bull shitting, eating oranges and drinking cold milk. He chuckled, it always amused him, how the oranges made the milk curdle. But it was what they liked, it was what they did, it was how they bonded. He heard people downstairs, laughing and shouting, like nothing had happened, like he wasn’t gone. This enraged him; it consumed him, their ambivalence, their complete and total coarseness. They acted like savage beasts, he thought to himself. This thought was interrupted by a passing jet flying over the house, its scream like star fire hurt his soul. He spotted an old projector by the window. It was rusted over; he wondered if it still worked. He hunkered his old, tired body over towards the projector. As he grew closer, he felt a breeze blowing from somewhere unseen. Then he saw the source, a broken window; it must have let dew cover the raw, unburnished metal, causing the oxidation that corrupted the projector like life had corrupted his memories, like it had corroded everything. Like the oranges and milk had curdled in his stomach. Everything is metaphor, everything is gone. But in its place there was a kind of patina, a reflection of what had been and would never again be. This gave him something, something he could hold onto, something he could build upon.

Mickey Jackson

2009-06-28T21:05:00.002-04:00

Sexy Boy: Short Fiction

2009-06-28T06:54:00.001-04:00

Sexy Boy
by Brian James Spies

It was late when we got back to my dorm room, I had left moon safari playing and Ce Matin La was just starting as I closed the door behind her. As we made our way through my room the music began to peak, we sat on my bed, she worked her fingers through my tousled hair. I started to gently peck at her neck. She giggled as I worked my tongue along her collar bone. Slowly we became prostrate before our longing. As I began to work my way under her blouse, I expected resistance, but I found none. The music skipped ahead to the next song, A New Star In The Sky, I was certain that by The Voyage of Penelope I would be spent. She pushed me back, and much to my surprise, began to undo my belt and unbutton my fly. “I want you inside me.” She whispered. I nodded with approval as I reached for a rubber from a bowl my roommate kept on top of the mini-fridge. She took it from my hand and tore it open with her teeth. With the most economical of movements she slid it over my hard cock. As I slid myself into her our bodies rocked back and forth, like a baby’s bassinette. I kissed her lips, they tasted like cherries, and just like that my cherry was gone. As we lay there, awkwardly, under the sheet that I had grabbed from the floor so she would not feel exposed; I offered her some Kush and she accepted. It tasted like cinnamon as she said, “We’re going to have to work on your pacing.”

KhingKOBRA x Destro

2009-06-22T18:02:00.001-04:00

Nowhere: Short Fiction

2009-06-12T11:02:00.003-04:00

Nowhere

by Brian James Spies

His foreskin was raw and chafed, there was still cum dripping from between his knuckles as he wept the blood from under his right eye. As the cum mixed with his tears, it stung. He had gotten a real beating; I mean a real beating. But he had held his own and now he would be one of them, one of the gang. No more wedgies in the stairwell or swirlies in the bathroom stalls, no hoping and praying that they finally leave him alone, no longer would his nickname be Tits; now they’d call him by his real name, now he would have their respect. He fastened his belt slowly, as if this all was no big deal, trying to be cool. As he turned around one them put his arm on his shoulder, he didn’t flinch this time. He would never have to flinch again, he thought to himself. His mind drifted back to all the times he cried alone in his room, all the times his mother would knock on his door and ask him if everything was okay. “Of course everything isn’t okay!” He would scream out through the tears. How could anything be okay, he was a loser. “But not anymore,” he thought to himself, almost smugly. “I’m not a loser anymore.” Maybe he was too confident, maybe if he had some humility he would have seen it coming, the sucker punch headed right for his gut. It split him in half; it would have been funny if it hadn’t been him being laid out like a cartoon character. “Nice ‘job Baldy, talk to us when you grow some pubes ya fag.” The other guys laughed and then turned to walk away. He lay on the infield grass, hardly breathing; the wind knocked out of him right along with his masculinity and what little self-esteem he possessed in the first place. He couldn’t even cry, he was broken; like an old toy, they had had their fun with him and now they were done with him. From that point on he wasn’t even there.

What I Did Last Weekend

2009-06-08T19:32:00.000-04:00

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

Monday Will Never Be The Same: Short Fiction

2009-05-29T10:52:00.001-04:00

Monday Will Never Be The Same
By Brian James Spies
When I was a child, there was an old abandoned house by the creek that ran past the park. We all called it Freddy Krueger’s house. One summer, when I was eleven my friends and I dared another kid to go inside it, he wouldn’t so we teased him. We had spent most of the mornings that summer painting the bathrooms inside the arts and crafts shed with characters from Bloom County. In the afternoon, we would ride our bikes to the bunny trails and do tricks while we smoked Camel Wides. The evening before the fourth of July, we blew up Black Cats and got drunk in the park, I met an older girl who said she was a lesbian. When it would rain, we would hide under the pavilion so as not to get wet. We would drink Zima and fight for no reason in particular. We would never be that young again. Sometimes I wonder how we survived those hot summer days and cool summer nights, then I remember that not all of us did.

The Dancer: short fiction

2009-05-26T19:48:00.001-04:00

The Dancer
by Brian James Spies
The metal of the gun had a cold dull colour to it, no sheen, or polish to be found. As he pointed it at me, he trembled. Martin again flashed his brass knuckles as if to say he had my back. Whom was he kidding, brass knuckles don’t mean shit against a loaded handgun; if it was even loaded, not that I could know or even wanted to find out. I acted in a manner as to convey fearless abandon, but was really just self-destructive aggression. “What are you waiting for” I raged. “Pull the trigger, be a man… I don’t want to live anyway.” With cool detachment I said, “You be doing me a favour.” This dance continued, me challenging him to do something that I hoped I was right in believing he didn’t possess the courage or stupidity to actually do. I don’t know how long we went on like that. At times, when I think back, it seems likes it couldn’t have been more than a minute. But then, there are times, often late at night when it seems we are still dancing that dance even today.

Monday Morning, After The Party Ended

2009-05-25T14:03:00.002-04:00

Nitemares and Dayscape

2009-05-22T08:58:00.002-04:00

History is a process, not a series of events.

2009-05-14T21:08:00.002-04:00

I was just watching the 8pm rerun of last nite’s The Daily Show and the guest, Pakistani Ambassador to the United States made a very good point that got me thinking. He said that the process of abandoning alliances with pro-Taliban / pro-Al Qaida tribal forces along the Pakistani Afghan border is just that, a process, not an event. This struck me as particularly true as well as extreme relevant. This is in fact I believe the biggest problem with how we view and thus how we teach, history. From primary school onward we teach children that history is a series of events. In other words, a long time ago X happened, it was followed by Y and ultimately Z. This is the single most fundamental flaw in how we approach history and quite possibly the single greatest impediment to our complete and total inability to understand why history seems to repeat itself. History is NOT a series of events. It is not even a series of related and interconnected events. It is a process. It is a process with a beginning, middle and end; all of which are ambivalent to us. Imagine a very long book with one letter missing from one word from one sentence. Would the narrative of the book be inextricably altered by that one typo? No, of course not. However, imagine that this book is the only book there is and your task in life was to read and re-read this book. You would undoubtedly be irked everytime you read that particular passage of said book. Furthermore, although as you got further past that passage you might begin to forget about it and get back in to enjoying the flow of the story. This is history as we perceive it. We view history through the eyeglass of the not so distant past. Things like that typo we perceive with the most intensity when the are current but seems dreamlike and unreal the further we are from them. We also believe that they are unique. That they possess a special importance and that this importance is the reason they stick in our collective minds. In reality, it their closeness to now that actually makes them so significant, not any special characteristic that they possess. No war, no revolution, no terrorist attack possesses anymore significance than it’s timeliness gives it. At the end of the day every human life lost, every inhuman display of courage and every mind stirring speech given possesses no more or no less significance than that typo. It’s only importance lies in its proximity to now. This is the process of human history, a process totally ambivalent to us and our very shallow experience of it. We are not the reader, we are a fraction of the typo, an uneasy annoyance in the grand narrative of time.

The Tulip Wars

2009-05-11T17:10:00.002-04:00

Angelsdust

2009-05-06T08:06:00.003-04:00

Electric Lemon Magnolia Drawstring Pants

2009-05-04T16:44:00.003-04:00

Butter Magnolia

2009-04-30T14:57:00.002-04:00

Under Black Lights

2009-04-24T08:05:00.002-04:00

America's Best Idea

2009-04-21T10:22:00.002-04:00

I know I usually just post pretty pictures for your consumption but today I feel like more substance is called for so I'm pausing our regularly scheduled programming to bring you the following essay by your truly. Feel free to send it on to anyone else you think might find it interesting and any constructive comments are more than welcome.

America’s Best Idea

I was just watching PBS' American Experience series on The Native American peoples and before the episode began PBS ran a trailer for Ken Burns' upcoming series on the National Parks. The tag line that they are using to promote the series is The National Parks: America's Best Idea. The assertion being that the notion or idea of The National Parks Service is the best idea that we as Americans have come up with. This idea got me to thinking; are they right? Is The National Parks Service the best idea that we as Americans have ever come up with. I can not dispute the notion that establishing a sort of National Trust in the name of all American Peoples, is in fact one of our greatest ideas. A trust who primary function is the assertion that this land, from sea to shining sea as the song goes, belongs to us all and shall be our inheritance to future generations, is a noble idea. However, I feel it is not in fact the single Greatest Idea our great nation has ever put forth into the world. For me, personally, America's Best Idea would have to be the creation of The New Deal. For it was The New Deal that for the first time in Human History established as an act of law the notion of public welfare. It first established as law the idea that we are all our brothers keeper. That if each of us flourish than we are all the better for it. Likewise if even one of us perish we all perish. The notion that we are all in this together and that is our duty to watch out for our neighbors was once thought to be the purvey of religions and philosophers; not legislators and certainly not the law of the land. What FDR did with the New Deal was upend all the precedent of Human History and Modern Democracy. Prior to the creation of the New Deal, priests and soup kitchens catered to the poor and destitute not the State. The very notion that the government need play a role in caring for our fellow man was incomprehensible. For the State is an extension of the broader populace and if the State was responsible for the welfare of all citizens than it followed that we as human beings we're also accountable. It was one of the first and clearest assertions that morality was in fact inseparable from good governance. We live in an era where the same people who say that God and morality are absent from Governance are the ones protesting the return to New Deal policies. FDR and the New Deal introduced morality to governance, they first asserted the notion that Morality is inseparable from democracy. Somewhere in the almost eighty years since the great depression people have forgotten that. They protest what they see as the re-establishment of a welfare state while they simultaneously bemoan the absence of God and Morality in public life. They call themselves the moral majority but what is more moral than caring for your fellow man. It is with this in my mind that I cannot help but feel that not only is The New Deal The Greatest Idea America has ever had but also an idea that, in these times especially, must be addressed before we forget what it meant.

Krown'd

2009-04-17T09:05:00.002-04:00

C.R.E.A.M.

2009-04-05T12:22:00.002-04:00

For Every Khing, A Krown

2009-03-29T20:13:00.002-04:00

Last Year at Marinbad

2009-03-29T08:35:00.002-04:00

Upward Down

2009-03-29T08:34:00.006-04:00

Losing My Religion

2009-03-29T08:34:00.003-04:00

Une Chaise

2009-03-29T08:33:00.003-04:00

For Every Khing, A Krown

2009-03-28T12:03:00.003-04:00

Magnolia

2009-03-26T15:29:00.001-04:00

Hello Operator!

2009-03-16T13:50:00.003-04:00

Blue Sky Boy

2009-03-16T13:49:00.003-04:00

8 Bit Wunderland

2009-03-15T17:54:00.003-04:00

Skully x Thin Mint

2009-03-09T16:48:00.002-04:00

Skully x Powder Puff

2009-03-09T16:47:00.002-04:00

Grrr!!

2009-02-28T16:44:00.001-05:00

San Sebastien Submerged

2009-02-08T20:44:00.002-05:00

Love Sucks

2009-02-06T20:24:00.002-05:00