Michal's wrestling with the thought of complementing his majestic Fiction Corpus with yet another science fiction book; cites fatigue
Posted:
I have faith in the potential of exploiting English as the international community's second language. I don't believe in the prosaic manner in which the English tongue is presented for study.
Polishing a person's intimacy with a language isn't like developing a more comfortable bed. A language - a spoken language - isn't merely an instrument that you can teach yourself to use with a greater amount of precision. A spoken language can't be split from the competing values of a clan of people of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
To make a pupil recite English is to cheat him out of its cultural context. A proper teacher must create a strategy for introducing it; the discerning pupil ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe a language on the basis of a specific corpus, a body of writing of varying size and consistency. A corpus may include everything from a book about literature to a bunch of free fiction. I watched many moons pass forging my "handsome" Fiction Corpus to form a specific class of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in many different forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have crafted a million words and I have cut them down, reformulating them - not simply to teach a language but to defend the human spirit, and to prod that spirit or soul not just to recite but to happen.
The way to understand a language is to categorize its elements. Each word belongs in a box and there only so many boxes.
You only need eight boxes or eight categories of words to understand English. At the highest level, you have what-words and who-words, how-words and why-words, where-words and when-words, whose-words and which-words.
What-words can be further categorized into the same eight boxes. Artifacts are the what-what-words. Persons and people are the who-what-words. Fuels are the how-what-words. Fetishes are the why-what-words. Places and times, the where and when-what-words respectively. Acts are whose-what-words and Kinds are the which-what-words.
These linguistic categories relate to the seven categories of culture, which in turn I organize according to day of the week.
Just as Sunday can both start the week and end the week, Sunday or Victory Day (a day for artists) is related to both which-words and whose-words, or kinds and acts.
Monday or Labor Day (a day for capitalism) represents the how, or a fuel.
Tuesday or Family Day or Prayers Day (a day for love) represents the what, an artifact.
Wednesday or Assembly Day or Constitution Day (a day for law and order) represents the where, or place.
Thursday or Greenery or Science or Earth Day (a day to study movement) represents the when, or time.
Friday or Children's Day (a day to educate) represents the the who, or people.
Saturday or Armed Forces of Democracy Day (a day for hope and strength) represents the why, or fetishes.
Pronunciation of What Act
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "what act."
Video of me pronouncing "what act."
Definition of What Act
The question what act is answered by a word that refers to the product of a fuel and a person. It is associated with the word whose.
An index for what act
I have yet to index the section What Act.
Samples of Fiction from Michal's 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.
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 #123
ive got the bailpiece. barry was a little coy about giving it to me. im not sure if thats out of loyalty to his own men or to chase.
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.
"Yes: this is the one you'd be working in, Jesus. The storefront's on the other side. Not many people come in. It's pretty small - not a very good location, either. It's a block away from the main road, but there's nothing else around: nothing that would attract people. I keep it closed most of the time; the other stores are more important: I use this one mostly for storage. Local people buy stockings: that's about it."
NOW THEREFORE, IN PURSUANCE OF THE AUTHORITY CONTAINED IN SECTION 341 OF THE IMMIGRATION AND NATIONALITY ACT, THIS CERTIFICATE IS ISSUED, AND THE SEAL OF THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE AFFIXED PURSUANT TO STATUTE.
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.
I said, "Excuse me, but what are you talking about? What are these stones all about?" Nike explained that in one type of variety, the flesh clings to the pit, and in the other type it comes off clean. I said that from a practical point of view I preferred the latter, but I had to admit that in my experience the other kind usually proved softer and far more palatable. That was all I had to offer, but of course Nike kept going, and mentioned how peach pits were fatally poisonous: "Well it's mostly the cyanide that gets you.
Even if that were fact, and offered as excuse, it would not have corralled the kind of feeling that was now informing my actions. The fruits of my embryonic jealousy now seem inevitable, but at the time they were not, and the relationship did not seem unsteady because only underneath the tranquil surface were we steadily and unavoidably drifting. Sadly, this is something that can only be described in the soapiest of terms: we were slipping, and a stream of obligations was quickly eroding the cake of our experience, to the point that, after several months, I became romantically involved with a certain person, and Macy, absent from sight, was made ever more absent from mind.
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.
"If I do," he said, "what shall I receive in return?"
Using a staff, he began to draw a picture in the dirt. "This," he said, "is a thread next to a type of dowel; never mind why: it means red." Below it, he drew another one. "This is a tree next to a flagpole. On either side are two women, one of whom is lactating. Never mind why: it means tower.
Boccaccio was some kind of a hero to him, less for anything he did than for the fact that he was a bastard. Manfredo himself was named after a bastard king of Naples. As Ferrari had once heard mentioned, his father was, in all likelihood, a bastard himself-though Manfredo never discussed this, even when completely ubriaco, which was more often than not.
At such times, he would lift his cup and say, "Long live the Baron!"
Ferrari took note of the fact that Lorenzo was eager to play. Such desire is easily exploited. Meanwhile, his conversations with Carmina progressed to the Baron's garden. Among the olive and maple tree, she regaled him with stories of her Mongolian forefathers.
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.
(LESBIAN exits.)
MS. JACKSON: Please look for it, Kokomo. It's been in the family for generations. It's priceless.
KOKOMO: Yes, ma'am.
– ACT I, lines 223-224
LUKE: If you insist. I was out one night at the ole rubbadedub gettin' rotten with me ping-pong mates; bloody bonzer alright 'cause I took a screamer that day 'gainst the ole Banana Benders - who didn't stand Buckley's by the way - too right! So I turn to me tall poppies and say, 'Look, boys: it's my shout; first, allow me to shoot through, piss a slab, maybe buy some dinkum durries to boot. We were hittin' the turps that night so they thought London to a brick that she'd be apples. On me way back from the durry, this yobbo throws a wobbly and spills beer all over me uni. We take it outside. He comes a gutser and falls flat on his face. 'Good on you,' I say. 'Go take a walkabout.' I'm so full and cranky, I sit next to this swagman drinkin' plonk right there on the side of the road. 'I'll be stuffed,' he says. 'Sheila told me I'd see a fight.' I'm like, what sheila? 'Sheila down the road,' says he. 'Take me there,' I say. We go. Sheila reads me palm. She tells me I'll have a ripper year. She holds out her hand and says, 'Fifty quid.' I haven't got a brass razoo. I ask her if she takes credit. 'I knew you would say that,' says she, pullin' out a credit card machine. The next thing you know, there's a bunch of prezzies on me credit card statement. As for the old swaggie and sheila, they weren't within cooee.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Some not so unattractive female cousins of mine took me to see a movie. I got excited when I got to the theatre. Instead of popcorn and soda the bar was selling pickled peppers and beer. They even had cocktails. The movie was less suprising. It was an American comedy that was released in the States at least a year and a half earlier. I was glad there was no dubbing. Just subtitles. Until I started watching and I realized I was laughing at the jokes a full five seconds before anybody else. If at all. I was supremely embarrassed once again. Until the cocktails kicked in.
After my mother died I went to visit her homeland. On my own. My father didn't want to do it. He was busy. I flew into the capital. I don't know how to spell the name. It sounds like a drunk guy slurring the word casino. It's appropriate. Not only did I drink a lot of booze but I took my chances with it. The same turned out to be true for the food.
I stayed at the dacha until spring. I kept myself busy with Tolstoi and a translation I was working on. I tried without success to get a job in St. Petersburg. A friend of mine had a contact at the Education Ministry. I told him I was willing to go anywhere.
The case against Captain Orbitz stymied. The investigation plodded on. It was discovered that Orbitz had recently purchased a ship, the Nautilus. It was capable of inter-brane travel. He was seen in private conversation with an enginner from a planet abandoned by the Alliance to marauding Scutus forces. He was in constant contact with the lieutenant in charge of operating the prototype for an automated combat system. All of it curious. None of it meaningful. When the funding for the combat system was discontinued as part of a swath of spending cuts it generated the usual bitterness and threats among the interested parties. Among them turned out to be Orbitz. Within one microarcsecond of the announcement he tendered his resignation. It was an outrage. He was the poster child of the military. If he didn't want to be a courier anymore he could have a desk job. He could be a liaison. Or a recruiter. He didn't have to quit. According to Orbitz he could no longer serve a government that didn't safeguard its own citizens. As far as the Admiralty could tell he was referring to some outlying garbage planet. It was obscene.
The ship exploded. As Orbitz hurtled towards the tesseract he realized why he was doomed. The radiation from the explosion was travelling with him. It would accompany him all the way back in time. The small amount that had sterilized Heather Mills would be enough over the course of the journey to kill him. He also realized how he had lost Sara Lee. In his moment of gloating behind Heather Mills's back he had given her a chance to read his mind. She knew she was sterilized. She knew infecting Sara Lee would be futile. She did it anyway out of spite. She did everything she could to alienate her. It was justice. Orbitz had robbed Heather Mills of her only love. She would make him pay the same price.
It's natural to hide dirty things. They're embarrassing. But we need to keep in mind that when we hide things that are difficult, we make them seem dirty when they're really something else entirely. And when we keep things that are easy in plain sight, we make them seem clean when they really aren't. That is dangerous.
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Michal's importing art...is he daffy?
Michal's Sales Pitch Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts
T-shirt fundraiser for sale
Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed.
From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt handbag for sale
Felt bag by Dorota.
Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Decorative collar for sale
Decorative collar by Zuzanna.
Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Seamless handbag for sale
Handbag by Sylwia.
Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Patchwork quilt for sale
Patchwork quilt by Alicja.
Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Nuno-felt shawl for sale
Shawl by Sylwia.
Scarf made with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Clara the doll for sale
Clara by Alicja.
Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Noah the doll for sale
Noah by Alicja.
Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Black suspenders for sale
Black suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Orange suspenders for sale
Orange suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Green suspenders for sale
Green suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt earrings for sale
Felt earrings by Dorota.
Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Round ceramic earrings for sale
Round ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Oblong ceramic earrings for sale
Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
'Coral' necklace for sale
Corals by Sylwia.
Necklace made of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.