is it because i'm black?

what's the craziest thing that's happened on road trips with your homies? when takin' them there seem to be two things that always occur- a recurring joke and a particularly ugly experience. my colombian parcero, mr. paez, and i have had quite a few but only one that was combined. went to go visit some friends in a hostel in cusco with some gringo buddies. walked up to the front and the guard says "you two in. those two, no," pointing to us.
"why not those two?" our blonde gringo friend asked.
"no peruvians allowed."
we laughed a "this racism is killing me" chuckle.
"first, these two ain't peruvian. second, you're peruvian."
"house rules."
unbelievable. i've encountered prejudice but never for somethin' that i ain't. maybe i should've grown a few inches. no sweat off my back, just realized that uncle tom's cabin exists everywhere and we found one in south america.

i also split my lip on mr. paez's skull when he got punched by a gypsy in chile. another long story. maybe they thought we were irish.

isla del sol, bolivia, 2006

mr. mark allows everyone into his establishment except for storm troopers.

Episode 3- Father, Figure

Hip Hop From Mom's Basment- Father, Figure from Mr. Mark on Vimeo.

gettin' old's a beach.

what more can i say?

when you talk to yourself, what do you say and who are you talking to? it gets late and i'm all alone, i start voicin' things to myself as a parent. it gets even later, i start talkin' to the technology that's keepin' me floatin' out of dream world. chidin' the participants of informercials for their choices. commentin' on the nursing home speed of my stovetop cookin' late night beans. and pleadin' with my computer to help me finish up somethin' that shoulda gotten started months back, young man.

wait a second, that's somethin' my mom would say. how did she do that?

mom's are like vampires, yo.

montreal, qc, 2000

mr. mark turned down late night term papers for late night bloggin'. the skillz that pay the billz, y'all.

the formula

if you could party with any celebrity, historical figure, or fictional character, who would it be? i feel like a lot of you would say holden caulfield, but he's such a drag. slick rick would be a hoot. wallace shawn made a whole play out of a dinner with andre. i'm thinkin' a civil rights wife, like a betty shabazz or coretta scott king. probably really good listeners, probably could get down to jr. walker & the all stars, and they've probably got your back the whole night. but really, i just wants a good listener.

and someone to share my steak fries with.

washington, dc, 1996

mr. mark would be tempted to share his evening with einstein if he can hold his liquor.

come an' get your soul fooood

they say that your life flashes before your eyes before you die. i wonder if you revisit what led up to your death. if you're gunned down on the block, do you see all the things that led to your life as a crack dealer? if you die of respiratory problems, do you analyze the fumes in the factory that you worked in for 43 years? if you have a heart attack at the age of 33, and 473 pounds, do you revisit those 3 three gallons of coke, the 10 strips of bacon, and the various pounds of fried potatoes, dough, and red meat that you ate daily? if food is comfort, do you neglect to blame it for your death?

i guess if you're eating a hamburger on krispy kreme buns for breakfast your brain probably isn't working anyway.

sioux falls, sd, 2006

mr. mark wonders if cannibals view food as comfort.

protect ya neck

after 30 years of life, i haven't broken a bone. and i don't know if that's somethin' to be celebrated or criticized. i mean, a broken bone really says somethin' about your character and your past. you adventured. you played sports. you hopped fences when you weren't supposed to. a broken bone doesn't happen when you're safe, or when you play life vicariously. a broken bone doesn't happen when you aim for high score in altered beast or when you think things through during an argument rather than punch a brick wall. a broken bone means you obey traffic laws, you don't ride a bike in the city, and you pay your dues on time. a broken bone prevents you from repeating certain mistakes 'cause a broken bone is a life lesson.

but it looks like it hurts too much, yo.

san francisco, ca, 1998

mr. mark does get shin splints though.

flava in ya ear

if you had your name attached to somethin', what would it be? my instinct would say a school, just to be associated with growth and knowledge. but, what if kids are failin' and there are mad school shootings at the "mr. mark academy of knowledge and knowingness in all life's skillz and battledoms?" i'd feel pretty low. i'm thinkin' a mr. mark spice would work. the hint of it might make a dish better, and if it doesn't, one can blame the dish itself or say "there's a little too much mr. mark." i think i can live with that.

la paz, bolivia, 2006

mr. mark tastes a bit like taragon, but mostly cinammon.

rap is outta control

every underground movement gets corporate sponsorship at some point. years and years ago, a small group of guerillas worked the appalachian mountains tryin' to gain momentum for their suffrage ideals. their tactics were mad sincere, comin' into towns with baked goods, holdin' town hall meetings, tryin' to get rights for all in the early days of this land. their m.o. also consisted of them livin' and organizin' in trees (literally). authorities would find hollowed out redwoods and oaks that fit small families. early corporate america caught wind of this sensation and approached the growing group with money and fame. sadly, the suffrage movement didn't last, but the kebler elves did. sad to see hip hop taste just as sweet these days.

true story. howard zinn told me that. well, he goes by howie zinfandel and cuts hair out of his garage.

chapel hill, north carolina, 2009

mr. mark would like to give props to the lovely ms. fearer for use of her digi and her handlin' of zip files. no euphemisms attached. holla.

the illest

they say that physical sickness can be cured by your mental capabilities. isn't that wild, dog? we can fix ourselves. now, i don't know that i'd try that with a 9mm chest wound, but a sniffle and some rawness in the throat might be countered with positive thoughts and some optimism. sometimes, we need an extra hand there. i'd keep the people in your life that can do that. even if you have to call a 7-year-old to give your stamina a boost in the midst of a flu like onset or heartbreak.

kids are wise or somethin'. maybe they're ghosts.

washington, dc, 2007

mr. mark saves his co-pay 'cause his niece has got mad jungian skillz.

always comin' back home to you

you gotta give props to where you're from. you look around close enough and you gonna find somethin' that someone else admires. even if it's the biggest target store.

word up otsego, minnesota. damn, y'all got everything there. mall of america. lakes. prince.

washington, dc, 1994

mr. mark counters with black people, headline ready interns, and a label hatin' punk rock outfit that charged less than a hamilton for rawness. doncha know, son.

original gangsta

having trouble with focus in your life? ask yourself...if you were to go to jail for a crime, what would it be? it might be the best way to figure out what you really care about. educational reformation in america? aids research in sub saharan africa? defending people you love? shit, maybe it's just vidal sassoon that you're all about, dog.

i probably would've died for hip hop back in tha day. but ever since ice cube started the family film circuit, somethin' tells me it's takin' care of itself. you ask me today and it's hard to answer. they don't mess around in jail. did you see that movie shawshank redemption? prisoners are mad sexual predators, yo.

darnestown, md, 1991

mr. mark would like to say he's passionate about the people he loves enough to die for them. shit, cocksucker, tits.

da writing's on da wall

if walls were more constructive, then they'd really talk. it's up to us to give them their voices. inebriation and urination often help with that. but next time, take some quick thought and add the guidance to that pub bathroom wall that we all need in those careless moments-

"don't cheat on your spouse."

"call a cab tonight."

"she has a penis."

quince orchard library, md, 2009

mr. mark puts the words up to "you shook me all night long" on pub walls since no one can seem to remember them.

dis revolution

everyone should think about investing in technology. in particular, digital cameras since it's so puzzling what happens to photos over time.

montreal, quebec, 2001

yo, is there any way mr. mark can harness the power of tears?

rollin' with kids and play

what do you do with your saturdays now? we were all linked with the cereal and cartoon explosion up until a certain point. I quit around the time kid 'n play got into it and i found out that cap'n crunch wasn't a real cap'n (hint- cap'n is spelled capitano). hormonal time was malltime and lazy saturdays dancing in front of a video camera. the 20's were for sleeping off hangovers and then chasin' 'em again later that night. where are we at now? yard work? shopping at ikea? ny times crosswords and npr?

i'm thinkin' we all need to revisit our saturdays with cartoons and video camera dancin'. as adults, our weekends should sound like paul simon, but that doesn't mean you can't get down to animated interpretations of "still crazy after all these years." god, i love that song.

get out that camera and dance, son.

potomac, md, 1991 & 1995

mr. mark would like to know where he should plan on getting a new chaise next saturday.

que eso

you can tell a lot about a country by their tourist industry. where in da world are they directin' people to travel? now, there are many reasons to love canada. but if the superbowl existed up there, you'd get cats comin' off the field and being asked what they're gonna do now that they won. betcha bottom dollar that disneyworld ain't gonna be on that list. in a heavy québécois accent, famed quarterback "ma" boucher would yell, "i'm going to cuba" followed by images of nfl players sugar canin' and rummin' it up revolutionary style. i love my northern neighbors for givin' me that fantasy.

or maybe i'm just jealous 'cause i'm not allowed to get my butt on the big isle south of disneyworld. you a punk, uncle sam.

montreal, quebec, 2000

mr. mark is being forced into a family vacation at mt. rushmore this year. he plans on ruining it by sulking.

hey lover

sometimes i feel like there was more of a formality to our relationships when we were younga. i like you, you like me, put a check in the box, make fun of me in front of my face, whateva. but now, we put all these signals and shit in front of everything.
"what does this mean?"
"wait 8 days before calling."
"he left the condom inside me."
well, some signs are easier than others. regardless, it'd be nice to go back to the earlier method where a simple "i like you" and check in a box set you on your path before "i love you" and profolactic scavenger hunts became a meaning for so many different things.

potomac, md, 1992

mr. mark would like you to check "yes" or "no" to liking this blog entry.

smooth operator

there was a time when we all thought we were untouchable and the camera's shutter click was a masturbatory signal that heaven had been captured.

and then we look back and realize we had the wrong wardrobe.

stupid kid. hook up some kenneth coles and bring your digi into the 3rd floor of club love, son.

potomac, md, 1991

mr. mark would actually like to find his san antonio spurs starter jacket again. he don' wanna catch no cold.

let me ride

if you were 16 again, what kind of ride would you want? would you have the same mindset of your younger self with a bigger budget, or would you opt for somethin' more in tune with your life now? me, i wanted a hooptie when i was 16. couldn't have convinced me of anything fresher. today, i might opt for a volvo for safety concerns or a hybrid. i'm thinkin' that the lighter gas mileage could really be a more positive way of using my carbon footprint and the price of upkeep and insurance would save a lot in the long run.

duhhh...words just came out that done sound like ma mom. damn, son...we be agein'.

details, 1994

is there anyway mr. mark coud put hydraulics on swiss manufacturing?

untitled

this one's for you, dad.

r.d. pagán, jr. 1/7/28-5/2/93

madrid, spain, 1985

mr. mark had to come from somewhere.

so you wanna be a gangster

gangsters live a life of pain and torment. before you get into that lifestyle, you should ask yourself what you're really looking for. 'cause if it's some love, there's always a squad for hug love. they're usually called moms and they drive mazda mpv's with tinted windows.

tinted mpv's? forgot about those. actually, moms live some gangster shit, yo.

potomac, md, 1994

mr. mark would warn you of "the cougar." almost a hit man like status amongst the hug love squad.