Saturday, 17 September 2005


The new version of LeBlog has received raving reviews!

"Today on Friday the 16th the notorious mrk renowned for the ambiguous and thought-provoking Whorella amongst other projects has unveiled the much anticipated version 2. of LeBlog. Rumours have been flying for months now, some doubted that mrk would ever be able to rise to the occasion, others were unaware of mrk's intended renovation--but all wondered what mrk would do this time.
A figure that's hard to categorise, a prolific writer, mocker, professional cynic, an artist and a student of meditation, mrk is embodiment of the post-modern ideal. However, behind the seeming randomness comes a focused intensity of interests and attack on previously unquestioned ideals. LeBlog has come to bridge the gap between mrk and his following, or dare I suggest, perhaps accentuate it? But what does the new version have to offer that the older one lacked?

The stylistic changes are welcome--LeBlog is now easier to read and more manageable. It is still highly sophisticated and challenging to the reader but LeBlog will now be more accessible to the wide public. Whilst others might welcome this a positive change, and even though I do not wish to express a personal opinion, I feel obliged to ask what brought about this change. Is mrk more will to conform? Does mrk want to be understood? Does mrk care about his readers? Why is the index to the left hand site now? What does the black hiatus in the right hand site of the page signify? Perhaps the void that mrk feels, a void he is ready to fill in by acceptance by the new readers who will finally be able to read LeBlog? I can only raise this questions without hope of answering them, for I must relief myself of urinal fluid and alas I will lose my train of thought. "

Monday, 5 September 2005


The Astral Egg
Going through the ‘tunnel’, although it feels more like crossing a bridge over a huge loud river, I end up within the astral egg. I have already shed my skin and I can almost see in full 360ยบ. Things are indeed very bright and beautiful here, and are very fluid. I can still make up forms of people, buildings and other things but their shape is not clearly defined, it seems to fluctuate or completely change form. Yet, despite this obscurity, my vision is much more acute. I am bewildered by the fact that no one has come to greet me as I expected. People barely turn around to look at me, although they seem to engage in socialising amongst themselves. I turn down to look at my self, but I can’t really see anything; my mind though is working extra-time so I must be alive right?

Concept Generation Realm
Suddenly the scenery changes, everything seems to have collapsed and rearranged to something completely different. My viewpoint has now become spherical, I can now look everywhere, but what am I really looking at? The landscape has become even more fluid-like and shapeless, I cannot see anybody although I can feel their presence. They’re very far away, yet I know their thoughts. They’re contemplating complex concepts and ideas and show little interest in communicating with me, and rather passively absorb any thoughts I make, as I passively accept theirs.

Universal Brain
In the distance, I can make out the only thing that seems concrete in this world, the peaks of 3 enormous mountains and a fortress on one of the peaks. Intuitively, I start moving towards them, but the distance always remains the same, it is like they are forever stuck in the horizon. I spend time contemplating like the others, trying to make sense of this world. Yet, I seem to know everything before I think it or when I think of something it already is. I watch my thoughts take form in front of me, which makes me wonder whether I have in fact migrated into my own brain, but the other presences assure me that this is not the case although they simultaneously feel the same way. I wonder whether I should return back to the egg, but my intuition urges me to reach that fortress.

The Fortress
I take one final look at the castle but instead of moving towards it, I try to pull it forwards. Soon, it’s here, or I am there. The citadel has 10 gates but only 9 are open, and entering any of the 9 gates leads to different worlds, but they all seem to be part of this thought-creating realm. Each gate clearly separates this realm into 9 different sections or concept-forms or… ideals. It’s very hard to explain this, but each ‘ideal’ world constitutes of individuals that share this ideal, but at the same time it’s them that actually generate the particular ideal. So which is the hidden ideal, closed behind that 10th gate? All the presences of this world inevitably ask this question, some having spent an eternity in concept generation. I, instead, spend time meditating in front of the closed gate, wishing it to open and let me in to its secret.

Behind the 10th Gate
Again, the opposite happens. Instead of the gate opening to let me in, it just moves behind me, or I go through it. The world behind this gate is nothing like the previous 9, here there is nothingness and I can feel no presence. I immediately return back to the outside of the fortress, thinking, was this pitch-blackness the end? My thinking process inside that void had become very limited, almost basic, perhaps it is some sort of purification room that leads to a greater realm, or perhaps it is nirvana itself. I decide to go back to take another ‘look’. Again, my senses are almost completely turned down, I can’t see, hear or feel and I can barely think. I have no idea how long I am there, but at some point I feel this very subtle push of energy whizzing by me, then another, then another. I am not alone here, more ‘people’ are in here trying to make sense of this place. This is not a typical nirvana, for I am not alone, but perhaps this is it, eternal nothingness – or the closest one can get to.

The Rotating Cave
I let myself submit to this state of almost zero, (more like minus zero) as I feel no need to go back to the realm of thoughts, until at some point I feel this flow of sound blowing at me. It is very momentary though as it soon diffuses back to nothingness. An eternity later, it comes back; again briefly as it quickly wisps by me. Eternities and eternities pass, as I start recognising this as a pulsating sound coming back in regular intervals. My complete annihilation of time allows me to perceive it as an even quicker and quicker pulse, until I finally manage to freeze it into one continuous tone. This sound in fact was coming through a hollow rotating structure whose rapid rotation had created this pulse effect.

I enter this rotating cave and forever say goodbye to my previous vision of eternity – it seems I still have a long way to go. The tunnel though appears to be never-ending, and it is becoming harder and harder to move through it. In a number of occasions I even lose the whole tunnel finding myself back into the Nirvana room, and it takes forever to retrieve the tunnel once again. I finally decide to return outside the fortress to contemplate a bit further. I watch as other presences keep going inside the 10th Gate only to quickly return back outside. Others over-rationalise and return back to the egg to live what they consider ‘normal’ lives or to enjoy the ‘fruits of their loins’. A selected few even decide to re-materialise as they believe the secret of the cave is hidden in the material world.

Cosmic Suicide
I, on the other hand, start considering nothingness. Perhaps the cave just represents a message, the message of zero. I start contemplating the fact that perhaps that rotating pulse is the remains of my own desire of reaching the end, when I had already reached it. Perhaps I need to shed everything, the candle, the string AND the flame. I start planning my own obliteration, my own cosmic suicide to finally reach the end. How? I will sacrifice my individuality to nothingness by splitting into infinite pieces of myself until there is none. And so I return to the 10th gate, one, last, time.

Home sweet home
I willingly split myself to fragments of pure newborn spirits, my flame becomes sparkles that quickly fly out through the gate back into the thought realm. And I, well, still am! But what am I when I have shed everything that had to do with who I was? All I know is that from the moment I had eradicated my own existence the rotating cave pulled me within it, and led me to a place beyond any description. A place that was finally home, yet so far away from any concept of ‘home’, I was in fact the home, and ‘I’ was habiting myself. There was no thinking but there was existence. Descartes was indeed wrong. Before I knew it, I missed the ‘me’ and ‘you’ and swiftly underwent theoptosis.