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He has a name, but we shouldn’t really utter it. The Cobrasnake will do. It might be two words. It might be one. We're being told it's Three. The "The" is deserved. To us it’s THECOBRASNAKE with those Spanish upside down exclamation marks in front of it.

The Cobrasnake is half myth, half rumor, and half genius. Legend has it that he’s a prodigy and built a camera obscura with his legos while in the crib. The relatives were all “you can’t put Legos in an infant’s crib – he’ll swallow it!” But sometimes what comes out is beautiful.

Mark The Cobra Snake is an LA treasure hiding in plain sight. There’s no reason he’s not the most famous man in town. He goes everywhere, he portrays things precisely the way they are, he uses no gimmicks other than a semi fishy eyed lens and a magical flash he sold the devils soul to Robert Johnson to get.

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We met him at the Shortstop and we knew we were in the right place. Then the celebs poured in. We met him in the streets of Austin and then 1,300 bands showed up. We met him at a film debut with two incredibly young “interns” which normally you’d say uh but somebody is posting those sweet ass pictures of his up on his website the morning after, and somehow we don’t think it’s the curly haired genius with the headband and fake glasses.

THE COBRASNAKE knows no peers, he walks on water, he breathes fire, he shapeshifts and break dances and plays the guitar just like he was ringing a bell. He simultaneously puts the I in team and fights terrorism by letting them hate us so much they love us. But mostly he snaps pics of the LA in a way that Walter Iooooooos Jr. did for Sports Illustrated back when people read SI.

If Ansel Adams’ BFF was Kid Millionaire he wouldnta been taking pictures of any damn trees.