Kassy Mannoua Amoi
I am an actor, writer and artist dedicated to the creation of happiness so boundless that it shatters all obstacles in the way of unity.
Chester the Chihuahua
It was February 14th 2014, there I was staying with my grandmother after I graduated from military school and I had no real idea what it was like on my own, outside of school. I'd never even have my first job until about next month. My Aunt Nicole, Uncle Bobby and their three children (my cousins of course) needed a place to stay while they were renovating their home for renters in one and remodeling the other home after a bequeathal from Uncle Bobby's mother passed away. They brought along with them one cat and three dogs ( King Charlie a German Shepard and three Chihuahuas; Chester, Chloe and Jack .) to pair up with myself, my grandmother and her three cats( Mon Kitty, Chester the Cat and "Feral no name cat who would only let my grandma pet him" or Hissy). So basically a packed house for a little while until things settled for my Aunt and Uncle.
I didn't even get a sip
It was a long arduous time for the world at one point in time, one series of vaccinations, a few more convictions of opportunists and all six of the refund checks later and John finally found himself in the open among other people who were finally free of masks. The scenes unfolding around him would have been strange before now with all of the long sustained hugs around him that looked something like the quiet breeze before a giant orgy breaks out. The people of the world were finally free to give each other hugs and since so much time was spent in isolation long hugs weren't so awkward anymore they were an unspoken agreement amongst the masses. Never mind all that now, John was after something a little more intimate and private. A series of texts, long Skype sessions and stimulating watch party discussions later John was about to go on a date with Samantha. This particular date was unique not only was this the first real date they ever had in person but this would the first time they had actually seen each other. I know, I know as cheesy as it sounds Samantha and John were stimulated by different means altogether. After all the time the world wasted on the way people looked John and Samantha initially came to agree that neither of them were going to peek at each other's social media to see what the other looked like but instead challenged, complimented and compiled as much information about each other as possible so that their first meeting was not tainted with superficial expectation but grounded with foundational roots in one simple core value they agreed was most important of all after getting out of their share of abusive relationships: Personality is the key to being happy with someone, it's never in how someone looked but it's in who they are. So they built their foundation slowly, with every podcast listened to, books read and even the seedy topic of religion came into the fray between them and after they both came to the conclusion that they weren't trying to convert one another they kept "meeting". John stopped right before a quietly lit patio space in front of a black oakwood bar, The Steaming Tugboat, and checked his watch. It was half past eight, right on time. The bar was one of the few places that remained empty since it was so dimly lit, most people went for the bright shining spaces that shed bright luminescent lights over everyone's faces whereas Samantha and John were pretty adamant about having an intimate candlelit dinner buttoned with adult playtime later. It was a mutual agreement there as well, being horny only made you human. With a slight chuckle to himself and a slight adjustment of his tie he waltzed in and was guided to a small corner booth in the wide room with a few scattered couples who had the same idea they had by a neatly dressed maître's
Who your friends are.
There it was, in all of its weather beaten glory, the little black book John worked so hard to keep safe was now going into the safety of a new owner. A new owner who wasted no time in changing out of their previous attire, not sure why that change was necessary but I am no position to contest that John thought to himself for a few seconds, and into a sleek vanta black two-piece suit tailored to fit. A calming deep voice with a testy wavering tone broke the silence and started the sequence of six shotguns being cocked and without a doubt pointed in John’s direction.
Can you spot this? (Creepy!)
It was about seven-thirty at night in my little apartment/dorm room on a Friday night. I didn't have much to do after a long day at work except look forward to a well rested weekend. I decided to resume my binge of American Horror story into the "My Roanoke Nightmare" season. My dog Chester was driving my girlfriend up the wall that week and she had dropped him off at four, immediately after I sent out my text that I had gotten off work and the few hours that followed were arduous to say the least.
New American Reconstruction
America is witnessing her system crumbling before her eyes from the American Senate to Hollywood. I am a citizen of this country, a natural born citizen yet thanks to this country's uncomfortable history with my people I am denied the right to be free to be myself. I am proposing we consider a change for this country. A new reconstruction era that will not only steer us as far away from this current crossroad we find ourselves in today but to take us to a peace unrivaled by any other peace we've ever had in this country before.
Cartoons: A way to salvation
We are in a trivial time. There, I said it! We are in a time where some of us are surprised with the level of intolerance, fear and apathy that have quietly rampaged around us others are not so surprised. (Black people know but the rest of the populations of America and the globe didn’t. Who knew?) I don’t bring these very obvious points of understanding up to ruin your day, time or riddle your mind with discomfort. Nor did I bring those points up to preach to you and anyone else under the cybersky who just so happens to surf on by and find me standing on a soapbox. No, I bring this to your attention to reiterate that some things haven’t changed. (As if you didn’t know already) and I offer a very passive way to a solution: Cartoons. Hear me out on this: Cartoons have been the birthplace of fun and laughter for generations. The innocent voices behind cartoons set back the forces of division one way whenever we caught them on Saturday mornings and when times and understandings underwent a change Cartoons changed with them. Disney, for instance, underwent drastic changes to offer love, warmth and fuzzy heart side effects when you watch shorts like Bao or TV shows like That’s so Raven and The proud family. Disney brought those shows into to our homes to remind us all of the diversity that exists amongst us locally and globally. Cartoons always seem to have this way of diving deep underneath our defenses against things we just didn’t quite understand and we needed that canopy of infantile whimsy to take us outside of our fear and into happiness that just lasts for years. Somehow , in more ways than none, we’ve forgotten that joy feels like, coming into adulthood made us leave those memories behind or force us to pass cartoons off as just child’s entertainment that you outgrew overall. Unless of course you stumble on the Cartoon channel but who does that anymore? Am I right? I know I stopped doing that a long time ago.(Except when The Incredibles 2 came out, I know I shoved somebody’s kid out of the way to be first in line when that came out at the box office.) What all I’m trying to say is this: What if cartoons are the way to the most gentle, harmless re-education that we could all use?