Help End Psychological Manipulation With Art

Posted:#N/A

Strength and dignity are her clothing...

Proverbs 31:25

Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...

Four days after I arrived in Poland, the largely Catholic country was celebrating Corpus Christi, complete with solemn processions down the street. Three days later I had made a solemn vow that if given the chance to express it, I would show love to a woman I had only just met.

Call it an accident. Call it divine will. I was never supposed to meet Margo...if not for one man's random criminal act...another abuse piled upon humanity by a fellow human. A robbery. A purse-snatching of a purse that happened to contain a passport. An assault on the human body. One of society's bad habits that I had come to fight as an artist working for body acceptance.

Though I was born in Europe, I had been brought up from a young age in America, living in states as diverse as Nebraska, Ohio and Connecticut. I was taught American values and saw reality from an American perspective. She was born and raised in a village in Poland. She went to work in the nearest town. The nearest city seemed like the center of the world. The American perspective was not something she was ever planning to see.

6,000 miles. One car. One tent. We started learning how to listen. We started learning how to open up. We started cooperating. Even when we were angry, even when it was so difficult that it didn't seem like it would turn out well, we stuck it out. We completed the trip and we came back happy. We had beaten the devil on the road. Back home more devils were waiting to abuse us. More anger. More fear. More sadness. This time we were prepared. This time we had each other and we could harken back to the joy and the trust and the suprise that 6,000 miles had created. We could remember what it was like to live in one tent.

One of Margo's pictures from our trip across Europe. — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day 32**
8/20/2011
⛹ 1༜♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Camping Omaha Beach
Vierville Sur Mer, France
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.

Previous Image — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day 32**
8/20/2011
⛹ 1༜♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Camping Omaha Beach
Vierville Sur Mer, France
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.

Usage of No Idea in Michal's Fiction Corpus

Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.

If you're wondering...

How do I use this?

Just click on a title to see examples of the words "no idea" being used in a particular work. You'll stay on the same spot on the page, only the Table of Contents will disappear. To get back to the Table of Contents just click next to the image of the Bare Bottom imprint where it says "Back to Usage of No Idea: Table of Contents."“And...?”

The Table of Frequency and the Table of Collocation provide numerical information about how many times the words no idea appear in their original or modified form and with which words. It can help to give you an idea of how a word is used and in what contexts.“Ok.”

Why a Fiction Corpus?

The popular understanding of the word "fiction" and its complement "non-fiction" is a reflection of the cultural influence of a classification system. The Dewey Decimal System is responsible for separating "fiction" from all other work and categorizing it by author's name. This has influenced the popular idea of fiction as a narrative that tends to be "untrue" and the product of an individual's fantasy, a bias compounded by modern art's century-long obsession with abstraction, surrealism and self-expression.“So...?”

My idea of fiction rests on the idea that art doesn't have to be factual to be a true reflection of our existence. Adam and Eve didn't have to exist as two individuals 700 generations ago for them to be true portraits of two human beings trying to work together.“And...?”

The Bible is a Fiction Corpus. It is a body of writing that isn't overly concerned with facts and yet its words carry weight. It was written by many different authors living in different places with different audiences in mind, yet everyone gleans something from it.“Right...”

In preparing my fiction corpus, I have striven to see the world through the eyes of others. Through the eyes of my Adams and Eves I hope that you too will glean some truth about our existence. At the very least you will learn some more about how one man can use the English language.“Ok.”

Who are you, Michal?

I'm just a guy who makes art. And if you're interested in making a solid investment in an aesthetic that supports our present and future welfare, then I will help you look for something that you can buy.“How...?”

Everybody makes. Everybody sells. Some people know how to protect their interests. Some better than others. Few people know how to listen. Listening to somebody means considering their interests as if they were your own. Going out and doing something to satisfy another person's interest is how we build a strong economy. Without a strong economy, democracy collapses.“And...?”

Buying 4Occupy is buying for democracy. Don't give your money to somebody who's ruining it. There's no such thing as cheap democracy, quick democracy, or easy democracy. There's good, solid, complete democracy and the tyranny of feudalism. Let's not mix the two. Let's not buy everything on the cheap. Let's not create another tyrant and enslave ourselves because it was easier not to think about what we were doing. Let's protect our interests. Let's listen.“Ok.”

Who's really behind this site?

Have you ever been to one of those post-it-yourself retail websites where there's a really attractive top-seller ready to give you tips on how you can be a top-seller too?“Uh...”

Have you ever been to a "job" interview where you sit in a line, walk through one door, get hired as a contractor and walk out another door, so that the other applicants don't realize that everyone's getting "hired" to work in the same market?“Maybe...”

The internet is full of people who are ready to exploit your ignorance. They are people who want to make money at the expense of our economy. They are cheats.“And...?”

I, Michal, am behind this site. Not some fat plutocrat exploiting my image. I like to do things the right way. I like to work with people who take the time to do things right.“Why...?”

I used to work for a company that didn't do things the right way. My labor was exploited because of mismanagement. That company was the United States Postal Service, an independent agency of the United States Government that is ultimately controlled by Congress. I'm mad because if the Federal Government can exploit labor, who is going to stop every other cheat from doing it?“Labor Unions...?”

Don't say labor unions. I went to my labor union and they did nothing. They ignored me because labor unions aren't democracies. Holding a free and fair election for a "representative" once in a blue moon does not equal people ruling. Democracy means open government. It means we the public need to accept the hard work. It's the only way to secure liberty and equality.“Ok.”

What's the difference between use and usage?

Definition-wise, not much. But the -age suffix is ultimately French in origin and with most things French, at least in American eyes, the immediate thought is that of something precious and arcane whose value should be judged very carefully. This is in contrast to the word France, which is associated with a beautiful place. Thus people in France or from France are beautiful, warm, kind people. Generous even. Unlike French people who suck. Unless you're frenching, in which case you're only sometimes sucking.“And...?”

Along those lines, usage means you're in bed. Use means you're just heavy petting. Also notice that common people, like common words, get used...whereas "proper" things make "appearances." Whether or not you are being exploited is a different story. Exploitation is what happens when somebody uses you or your property without listening to you. Listening is what happens when you consider another person's needs as if they were your own. You don't have to satisfy those needs. All you need to do is consider them. So many of us can't even do that.“So...?”

Help stop exploitation. Buy 4occupy. Buy a better world. Whether or not you feel you can afford to buy art, consider joining my protest. I want to guarantee every working man and every working mother on this planet a 15-day universal holiday. But I can't. Only we can do that. We have to work together. We have to accept the idea that everyone deserves time for himself and we need to build that time into a new kind of calendar. We have to give peace it's own day. We have to make love something you can't avoid. We have to make even the most miserly cold-hearted capitalist among us say that he cashed his check on Love Your Neighbor Day. There won't be any other way to say it once the Acceptance Calendar is widely adopted.“Ok.”

Back to Usage of No Idea: Table of Contents

No Idea, a morphological approach

I have yet to make a morphological analysis of the words "no idea."

That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.

Table of Frequency for the Words "No Idea."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the words "no idea" and any of their morphological derivations appear in the Fiction Corpus, along with a breakdown of frequency by title, the respective rank of each word or set of words in the complete list of all words in the Corpus, as calculated both densely and competitively, as well as the percent increase in frequency of the words over the frequency of the next lowest rank in the complete list.
Percent Increase over next rank	RANK		WORD	Frequency
	RANK			TOTAL # of occurences	MCDONALDS	JESUS	SEX	TSIGA	JACKSON	DINGBATS
	dense	competitive		TOTAL # of occurences	modern/sloppy	biblical/terse	poetic/high-brow	hard/fast	talky	mixed salad
-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
I have yet to publish the table of frequency for the words "no idea," but I will get to it shortly. -Michal

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Usage of No Idea in Death to McDonalds

An aerial view of Dodger Stadium in the foreground, with an imaginary partially submerged Los Angeles behind — A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.

Frame #2163

its my pride. i blew a good lead cause i was angry at a girl. i shouldve sat. watched. waited. i have no idea now if shes telling the truth.

Justin Bieber

18 August, 10:16 PM

Frame #3297

i got a squid. the smell woke up sprint. he thinks its junk. he has no idea how to survive in the wild. you put everything you find to use.

Chase Credit

3 September, 10:34 PM

Frame #1520

im scared. apple keeps saying i have no idea how alluring it is. she doesnt mean dominos. she means the fire. she says it makes us clean.

JC Penney

13 August, 8:36 AM

Frame #4797

the public has no idea how far the chinese and the mexicans have penetrated. its our own governments fault. thats why theyre being quiet.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

14 October, 1:40 PM

Frame #6958

mcmiler couldnt have known about my office. he had no idea where the duffel bag was. and the mexicans didnt come here to rob me.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

23 December, 9:13 PM

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Usage of No Idea in The Gospel of Jesus H.

A picture of the planet Mars — An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.

"They're trying to stop the terrorists from moving north; they don't care about the southeast that much - terrorists are all over the train yards - Lipski doesn't even know what to do about it. He's got terrorists in the southeast (around the train yards); he's got terrorists in the west (around all the industrial parks) - but at least they're south of the river; he's in the north, coming down; he's got his artillery on the north bank of the old river, on the other side of which, sections of Center City have been evacuated; others have not; some are full of terrorists; others are not. What's for damn sure is that south of us, across the main river, the Old Town is completely infested. Government buildings have been taken over, et cetera, et cetera. Lipski's got his hands full; he's got absolutely no idea what the fuck a terrorist even looks like. A collaborator could be anyone: if you're walking down the street with a gun, you're collaborating - you're not trying to defend yourself: you're collaborating. If you're looting a store, or robbing your neighbors, or otherwise committing some kind of offense: you're collaborating.

– Verse 120 from the chapter called Arms

Jesus had no idea what kind of consequences this failure effected. His uncle hanged himself around that time, but there was no way of knowing how that were related - or whether it were only meant to look like a suicide. Jesus had his aunt moved to a safe location, and, as far as he knew, neither she nor her children were ever harmed. Jesus had no way of knowing whom or how many the Krupnik had informed about his identity, or, more importantly, his resources, which, considering the amount of duffel bags recovered from the basement, were, on the one hand, almost inexhaustible, but, considering the small size of his uncle's back room, were, on the other hand, quite meager - especially since Jesus was trying to conduct a private war.

– Verse 419 from the chapter called Arms

Jesus laughed - despite his grief - but he had no idea just how raw that claw could get.

– Verse 150 from the chapter called Adolescence

If not for my belated quest for satisfaction, they might never have been found. I was more than determined to avenge my sister's death by destroying whatever it was that was waiting behind that back door. I had no idea that I was about to find the tools of that destruction, not its object.

– Verse 10 from the chapter called Arms

When he was leaving the Commandant's house, Jesus noticed a black bitch: out of seven starving dogs, there was a black bitch with ribs poking out of her sides and three pendulous teats coming down from her meager breast. She was symbolic! "What a miserable state!" Jesus had said upon seeing that bitch, having absolutely no idea what great significance his words concealed.

– Verse 334 from the chapter called Adolescence

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Usage of No Idea in Sex for Children

A drawing of a man between a woman's legs in front of another man in a hospital bed — A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.

When the lecture was over, I tried to think of a good question, but I couldn't think of one; my mind was too busy digesting. I wanted to exchange a few words with the scholar, but I couldn't think of what I would say, and there was no one there to introduce me. (Of course, I would've introduced myself - if I weren't so inhibited - but, as a painter, I have yet to be exhibited). So I stood around waiting, thinking to myself, not realizing that Christie had disappeared. After most of the people had left, I realized that Macy and I were still waiting; I had no idea why - since we had not said a single word to each other. "Macy," I said, "why are we waiting?" He looked confused for a moment, as if he couldn't remember, and then suddenly he said, "Christie went to the bathroom." I asked him when she had left and Macy was quite sure she had left immediately after the lecture - which was quite a long time ago.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 12, Private Clubs, Paragraph 5

ANDY: Because nobody can explain why it happens when it does. We've been looking at it for thousands of years, Olympia. And nobody knows why. We know exactly how it works: we know steam has to cool down. But we have no idea why it suddenly appears when it does. It's magic. But you wanna know a secret?

OLYMP: What?

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 6, The Sixth Day, Part 1, Children & Education Reform, Section 3, Sharing the Value of Science, Paragraphs 34-35

"He came right backstage and knocked on the dressing room door," Christie was explaining as we turned onto Pall Mall. "I thought he was just some guy who saw the show. I had no idea he was connected to the theatre; I had never met him before. He was just some creepy old man randomly asking me out on a date. He introduced himself of course, told me his name, but he certainly didn't tell me he owned the theatre. When he left I was like: 'who was that guy?' and everyone tells me, 'Christie: that guy owns the theatre.' Boy was I surprised. When you told me you'd be coming over this weekend, I knew I'd have to take you here.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 12, Private Clubs, Paragraph 3, Clauses 2-10

You, on the other hand: you were still fishing around for that ball, and only after our father and our uncle came through the house with Albert did you finally come walking up that hill. I remember the moment distinctly: our father was joking that Albert being Hungarian, and Indiana being Romanian, we had the better part of the old Austrian empire assembled before us. Indiana began elaborating the joke, and, as she neared a punch line, you appeared, wet and out of breath, just in time to watch everyone heartily laugh - everyone but me and Indiana, of course. You had no idea what the joke was, and, as if searching for an explanation, you had to look around quickly, ignoring me (of course), before transfixing your eyes on the source of everyone's merriment.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 1, Genital Pain as a Result of Physical Trauma, Paragraph 4

NIKE: So what happened with that?

ANDY: Oh, yeah, well, he had surgeries and everybody thought he had beaten it.

NIKE: So you didn't expect anything like this.

ANDY: Oh, no: I had no suspicion whatsoever.

NIKE: And Indiana?

ANDY: I have no idea.

NIKE: She must've known.

ANDY: I just don't know.

NIKE: You don't think so?

ANDY: I don't know.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 10, The Male Dilemma, Paragraphs 1-10

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Usage of No Idea in Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga

Bullets whizzing by a statue of Nikola Tesla — A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.

Tatum went back to her place. Neal pounced. "What's going on?"

"You tell me. Did you write the note?"

"What note?"

"Dress sexy?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Who left it?"

"How should I know?"

– from “Dirty Manga People Are Disgusting,” a spooky story featuring a distasteful culture

The policeman was getting agitated. He wanted the money. Clark told him there would be no problem getting it. Shephard was reminded about the motorcycle. He assured the officer he would return it. The policeman frowned. "I have no idea what's going on here," he said. "I don't want to know. Just get me my money."

The truck arrived. Shephard wanted to put the motorcycle in the back. The bed was full of adult toys. "Sorry," said Coke. "You told me you only needed a tow."

– from “Two Dudes and a Chinese Desert,” a friendship story featuring people trying to make money

The poor devil, crouching at the water's edge, his back to the beach and the waves lapping at his balls, had no idea what hit him. The dog, doubtlessly overjoyed to be out of retirement for the day, hit the man with such force that a slender plastic bag full of green little herbs dislodged itself from underneath the sign on its back.

"Cannabis!" yelled Patsy, running to the scene of the crime. "Cannabis!" he yelled, flailing all five limbs.

– from “A Cop Named Patsy,” a funny story featuring a guy who kills people by leaving them on top of large statues

Junior shook his head. "Of course not." He had no idea what was in store.

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story about rich peole

"When would that be?"

Uzumaki paused. He studied the woman's peeved expression. He said, "I have no idea, Ms. Read."

Tatum smirked. "I'll have to keep my receipts."

"Is that a yes?" The woman nodded. "Thank you. You'll be doing the entire lunar community a service." He motioned towards the door. "My secretary will take care of you."

Tatum turned to Pat. "How did she look?"

– from “Dirty Manga People Are Disgusting,” a spooky story about a woman who doesn't like to take shit from anyone

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Usage of No Idea in Sorry Ms. Jackson

Chiseled letters from an ancient stone tablet hanging on a wall — A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.

LUKE: (to ALICE) I have no idea.

MS. JACKSON: I was wrong to bring her here. I exposed her to my husband's lust. I knew it would happen; I wanted it. I wanted to see her crushed. I wanted the pain inflicted on me to be passed upon another. I apologize. It was wrong of me to want that. Lord, save Kokomo from this awful scourge. I beg of you. Don't let her live like this in shame. Don't let this sodomy continue!

LUKE: Sheila.

ALICE: Did you hear that?

LUKE: If you had to do something wrong to do something right, you would do it. Say I had to bail blokes up 'cause they were all crook in the head; that'd be bloody beaut - if I had to do it.

ALICE: What are you talking about?

LUKE: Do you know what Kokomo is trying to do?

ALICE: Yes.

LUKE: You do?

ALICE: We just talked about it.

– ACT I, lines 1052-1061

MS. JACKSON: I have something to confess.

GREY GOOSE: Go on.

MS. JACKSON: I lied to you.

GREY GOOSE: You lied to me?

MS. JACKSON: Earlier today: when I told you it wasn't me.

GREY GOOSE: It wasn't you that did what?

MS. JACKSON: I gave your name to the police. It was so stupid. I was afraid of you for no reason. I was foolish. I was emotional. I was a coward. Perhaps I even did it for revenge - I don't know. I have no idea why I did it.

GREY GOOSE: It was instinct, woman.

MS. JACKSON: My instinct failed me. Grey Goose, I can't believe it. I'm so sorry. Forgive me.

GREY GOOSE: I forgive you.

– ACT II, lines 481-490

FLETCHER: No.

ALICE: It was at the bottom of my bag.

FLETCHER: What?

ALICE: They actually searched it at the airport.

FLETCHER: No.

ALICE: They didn't find it.

FLETCHER: What?

ALICE: I had no idea it was there.

FLETCHER: No.

ALICE: Can you imagine the shock I felt when I saw it?

– ACT II, lines 131-140

ALICE: Did somebody die?

FLETCHER: Don't ask.

ALICE: Yes.

FLETCHER: Even if your husband had died?

ALICE: It would.

FLETCHER: I've been wanting to confess this for so long. The island makes it hard. Who would have understood me if I had spoken? My mother? I pay my penance every time I hear her cry. She has no idea what part I played in that fire. I can't help feeling that, if I had stopped it, this family would never have had the problems it's had. Nobody died in that fire except for me. It was my own soul burning. As far as the house is concerned, restitution's been made. As for me, who would not find my weakness and ignore it? for the sake of convenience if not for shame. Who would restore my strength from the ashes?

ALICE: Let it be me. I will restore you.

FLETCHER: This is why I've been pursuing you. I knew you'd never give in to me. I saw your strength the moment you arrived: its grace: its beauty. I fell in love with it. I desired it - not for myself, but for its ability to release me from this guilt.

ALICE: Let me release you, Fletcher Christian. I will make you whole again.

FLETCHER: You will forgive me my crime?

– ACT II, lines 184-193

FLETCHER: I lost my virginity to a married woman. Her husband was abroad - had been for several months. She did plan on joining him, but she loved sex - she admitted it - more than she loved her husband. Then again, I didn't really know the man. Maybe he was the same way. Maybe he was a scoundrel. Some women are just crazy. I was doing work on her balcony at the time. She would undress in front of me through the window. She even let me watch her masturbate. I was around eighteen years old. She was forty. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't do anything, anyway. I was surrounded by my crewmates. When we finished, we packed up and we left. I didn't see her for several weeks. In due course, we bumped into each other at one of the local pubs. She asked me how I was doing. I told her I was fine. I bought her a few drinks. She asked me to take her home. I did. On her front porch, as she was removing her keys from her pocket, she dropped something.

ALICE: A condom.

FLETCHER: How did you know?

ALICE: I guessed.

FLETCHER: Is that something you've done?

ALICE: I've never done it. I assume, if you want to get your point across, that's the most powerful way.

FLETCHER: It's true. I couldn't help myself. I had to go up to her room.

ALICE: Did you like it?

FLETCHER: I loved it - as it was happening. When we were finished, I felt as dirty as a pig. She wanted me to come every Wednesday afternoon like clockwork.

ALICE: Did you?

– ACT I, lines 642-651

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Usage of No Idea in Miscellaneous Dingbats

The title of the book at the end of a string of miscellaneous dingbats — A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.

Adam was the Patroclus to Steve O's Achilles. In more ways than Steve O realized. A fellow classmate and womanizer had asked Steve O to his face one day, "You know that guy's gay, right?" Steve O had been incredulous. With the image of Adam and the redhead scarred into his mind, he adamantly defended his friend's womanizing skills. "You have no idea what you're talking about," Steve O had said, viscerally upset.

– from “A Finger Up The Bum,” a gay fiction story that nobody should think twice about, but what you make of it is up to you

I discovered a beautiful pavilion. Completely abandoned. Pristine toilet followed pristine toilet. I commenced spewing all over. Grunting and panting through the intervals. I shat half my body weight before I heard somebody come inside. This person was going from toilet to toilet. Opening every door. I was afraid my gut wasn't the only thing about to be liquidated. My unseen nemesis banged on my stall. I calmly ignored it. I dispensed half a roll of paper. I cleaned everything up. I don't remember if I flushed. When I opened the door the largest woman I have ever seen snarled at me and started shouting. I have no idea what she was saying. It sounded like a lot. She followed me out of the pavilion and halfway back to the stadium. I was sure if I didn't lose myself in the crowd she would find me and have me killed. That was the end of my trip.

– from “The Most Idiotic Actress,” a fictional story based on true life as related to the author

Sir Lewis walked down the marbled hall with head held high. A sense of incipient triumph wafted between smells of old paper posters and crusty deli sandwiches and stale cookies munched on by bejacketed professors and parents out for an open house weekend. The poor fools had no idea a champion marched amongst them.

– from “The Skirt on the Proctor,” a kid story about building attachments in an unforgiving world

The orbits of Captain Orbitz as told and retold by trillions of Orion systemizens, indeed systemizens from across many a galaxy, never fluctuated from their purpose of helping Captain Tycho "Tych" Orbitz conquer his home galaxy. Tych was firm from the day he resigned his commision as a courier in the Star Alliance to the day he vanished into space. Many were afraid he would come back. Many more hoped he would. They thought he was out pirating somewhere with Lalunia, his pheromonically irresistible great-great-great-great-niece, or ruling a planet with the beautifully blue Sara Lee, or fighting the jilted queen of the Astrazeneca or playing chess with CAROline the computer that loved him. They didn't know he was dead. They had no idea he had died long before he had even resigned his commission. Before he hijacked the tesseract marking the beginning of his rebellion or piloted the stolen ship Nautilus into the singularity the man had physically removed his own dead body from the bridge. He had no choice. At the time the ship was scheduled to be inspected by Star Alliance sanitation officers.

– from “The Death and Life of Captain Orbitz,” a science fiction romance in the spirit of Stanislaw Lem, if you know who that is

I drove all the way to the beach to find relief. It took hours to get there. I stumbled into the woman's bar by accident. I knew it was around. I heard girls talking about it. I never thought I'd go. I assumed it was a waste of time. I was right. I didn't hook up with anybody. I tried to make conversation a few times. It didn't work. On my way home I got lost. I was so angry. When I saw the sign for the camping ground I had no idea it was for queers. I stopped to ask for directions.

– from “Two Years,” an adult fiction story about a correctional officer at a women's prison

Back to Usage of No Idea: Table of Contents

Collocation of No Idea in the Fiction Corpus

Table of Collocation for the Words "No Idea."
This table lists in descending order of frequency a selection of text strings that appear in the Fiction Corpus and groups them according to the morphological derivation of the words no idea that appears in the string.
Type	Frequency
	TOTAL # of occurences	MCDONALDS	JESUS	SEX	TSIGA	JACKSON	DINGBATS
	TOTAL # of occurences	modern/sloppy	biblical/terse	poetic/high-brow	hard/fast	talky	mixed salad
-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
I have yet to perform a collocation analysis of "no idea." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal