Episode 10- Konkrete Soul

Hip Hop From Mom's Basement- Konkrete Soul from Mr. Mark on Vimeo.

ahhh, the voices...

work

sometimes it's dangerous to dance in clubs because you risk bumpin' into the dj's tables and fuckin' up the music. people scoff, but that's like throwing your coffee on a pilot's central console, kicking a ladder while your roofer is clearin' your gutters, or cancellin' george hamilton's tannin' apointment...which might be the most damaging to the eye.

brooklyn, ny, 2003

mr. mark doesn't dance near dj's or sundown towns.

on my block

if it's the moral issue concerning the legalization of drugs, how come we don't get up in arms over the saturated fat kingpins of the fast food circuit? i mean, the contents in most of our fast food establishments kill more people than the use of recreational drugs and creates a large degree of waste in our environment.

maybe i just wanna see the hamburgler, wendy, and that burger king slangin' on the block. i figure hamburgler carries a ruger around in his pants, while wendy gets her crew to chainsaw competition. the king guy...i don't know. i could just see him smilin' while he slices up miscreants like the dahmer that he is.

city paper, 1995

mr. mark eats at subway since jarred lost his big poppa status.

my favorite things

what's the strangest thing a human can collect? i'll tell ya, it's otha human beings. that's why you don't see it so often. when it comes down to it, most humans be grabbing all the other resources, but spend their lifetime tryin' to get space between them and otha humans. and definitively, a slave owner and a serial killer aren't necessarily human collectors, since their desires aren't in keeping their collectibles well kept.

no, no. i'd say the closest you'd get are foster parents; the folks i'd really like to see on antiques roadshow. keep doin' yo thing.

taiwan, 1989

mr. mark has no idea why his dad thought stamp collecting would be a good idea when he had a perfectly good hobby of keeping bugs in jars. duh.

faces

we hear about opposites attracting. we hear about similarities attracting. what happens when partners physically look alike? i saw this one couple recently that looked like brother and sister. i would've figured they were until i saw their hands in eachothers back pockets grabbing a little muffin squeeze. different strokes, but if you're looking for intimacy that is a mirror reflection, isn't it cheaper buy yourself a shish taouk, say some vain words, and grab your knob at home? oh, mr. mark, who are you to comment on love? but, it just bothers me, yo. like in this creepy, angelina jolie way. did we all forget about that, by the way? she looked like she was nailin' her brother for awhile and then had her boobies all up in billy bob's mittens. we're forgettin' some weird things about her, peoples...

don't call me out on jealousy either. i'd freely admit if i had the likes for ms. aj. now, ms. katheryn winslet. that's one brit i'd throw a shot in even if it was in the family.

damn, yo. i've said too much again.

la paz, bolivia, 2006

mr. mark would never like to be invited to the house of yes.

be true to yaself

one of the saddest things i see is when older guys and gals occupy the social scene with looks that reflect what the opposite sex found attractive when they were 13. it's funny, but a lot of men neglect to realize that women aren't as interested in six packs, long hair, and a laissez-faire attitude towards the principals of the world when they've dated the lot and realized how much it actually makes them think you're ridin' the short bus. loads of men forget that most women are pretty fuckin' smart and will go for sumthin' that resembles real attraction (intelligence, wit, talent, just a damn good man). the only similar thing that women want from their 13 or 31-year-old man is confidence. and when you're rockin' that long hair, prepubescent legs (shaved), and the attitude of a ne'er do well...your confidence is locked for sho...in that you're 13 in the body of a 31-year-old.

be yourself, dog. you as a 13-year-old was charming. now you just look like a tool. get off that short bus, yo.

the source, 1992

mr. mark does have one rayon shirt left in the closet, hon.

labels

lists. what's the hardest one you'd have to make? i'm thinkin' it's more of a 20th century invention. when you used to have a life span of 32 years, you didn't really concern yourself with figurin' out what the best in life could be. you shoveled coal when you were 8, married the last mcdougal sister when you were 17, and pushed out a few puppies before you even knew how to categorize what form of plague you'd be least excited of dying from.

nowadays, we can't stop ourselves from creatin' desert island musts, when really in the face of survival, you ain't gonna be concentratin' on which frank zappa album you'd best. our lives are pretty cushy, yo.

i do have to say that the long goodbye, for a few dollars more, and his girl friday are kinda prime picks after a long day of shovelin' minerals. good lookin' out, quentin.

unknown, 1994

mr. mark should be on your top five list.

8 steps to perfection

people talk about endin' bigotry, but it ain't like it's somethin' we can cure in one fell swoop. we all got our prejudices, and as an old teacher used to say about racism in the states "if there weren't black people, we would invent them." if we could just get over our insecurities, disavow our brutal sense of competition, and allow enough resources for everyone, then maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't scapegoat so many to make ourselves feel betta.

but then again, albinos are pretty fuckin' weird lookin'.

potomac, md, 1988

mr. mark is a "four eyes" and he stands proud as long as there isn't a high pollen count in the air.

crewz pop

in tribal life, are there subcultures that scoff at the actions of the majority? is there a small group of outsiders in the amahuaca tribe sittin' on the sides, watchin' a tribal feast, and saying somethin' like "no wonder the world hates us?"

friendsville, md, 1997

mr. mark likes the idea of living in trees. that's all.

who? me?

maybe comedy is the ultimate cultural exchange. laughter goes a long way in sharin' our experiences and findin' a path towards understandin'. even if that laughter is stemmin' from your observations of crowd and performer-

"you white folks are out of your fucking mind."

pittsburgh, pa, 1998

mr. mark only lets you pull his finger for a laugh. a pez candy will pop out.

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.

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.

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.

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?