"Graffiti damages more than just property, it also damages neighborhood pride," he said, moments before taking a high-power paint sprayer to a thoroughly scribbled wall at Marcus Garvey Blvd. and Hancock St.

Joining forces with the city's Economic Development Corp., Markowitz unveiled "Graffiti Free Brooklyn," a campaign that begins with 10 days of eradicating urban scrawl reported through a telephone hotline.

"Removing graffiti rejuvenates a neighborhood economically and improves the quality of life for one and all," he said.

Markowitz was joined by Bishop Perry Lindsay of Glorious Church of God in Christ, which hopes to turn the Hancock St. property, an abandoned building owned by the church, into housing.

The beautification blitz will focus on all Brooklyn neighborhoods, hitting commercial and residential streets with 10 high-tech graffiti-removal trucks from 2 a.m. to 10 a.m. weekdays.

Anyone can call the borough president's office at (718) 802-3875 and ask that a property be freed of graffiti - painted over or power-washed - at no cost.

The high-tech, $130,000 trucks are capable of blasting 20,000 square feet of graffiti a day, and have wiped out at least 1 million square feet a year since 1997, according to the EDC.

The trucks can spray ready-made brick red, roll-down gray or municipal brown paint, or colors can be mixed on the spot - from lime green to hot pink. Bare-brick walls are power-washed.

Both methods take mere minutes, a fraction of the time needed to paint a wall using rollers and brushes.

After a wall is scrubbed, the graffiti-removal crews check back and make sure it stays clean, said Craig Small, EDC assistant vice president for property management.

"What we try to do is displace [vandals], and so far it's worked out great," added Small.

EDC keeps the trucks rolling year round throughout Brooklyn, the Bronx, Staten Island and Queens. They can be reached at (212) 312-3943.

It was all good news for James Fields, 35, who has lived on nearby McDonough St. for 10 years. He paused to consider what was disappearing under brick-red paint.

"This is not artwork," he said. "It's an eyesore. It makes the neighborhood look like no one cares."