Michal refuses to weigh the viability of extending his lowly Fiction Corpus with a history of art history; cites fatigue
Posted:
I have faith in the possibility of employing English as the world's second language. I do reject the demoralizing manner in which the English tongue is presented for study.
Polishing one's knowledge of a language isn't like creating a safer parachute. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't merely an instrument that you can learn to manipulate with a greater amount of precision. A spoken tongue can't be disassociated from the prevailing culture 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.
Teaching a student to recite English is to cheat him out of its cultural context. A capable educator has to develop a strategy for introducing it; the prudent student ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe words based on a particular corpus, a body of writing of varying scope and consistency. They could contain everything from a book about literature to some very short stories. I watched many moons pass laboring on my "lavish" Fiction Corpus in order to form a distinct type 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 indexed them, reformulating them - not merely to teach a tongue but to be an advocate for the human soul, and to goad that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
A word can represent many things. First and foremost it represents a type of gesture. A specific way of speaking. A specific way of inscribing a mark. A specific way of moving your hand. To know one of these kinds of gestures is to know how to pronounce the word wall in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word wall, you will need to know what other people are made to think when you make the gesture. You will never have complete awareness of or control over the associations or identities that are invoked by a set of words, but you can know what was and what is a single word's jointly accepted definition, at least for a given place, thereby tracing a direction which will help you to understand what kinds of associations and identities are driving its use.
By using the word yourself, you enter into a long-standing albeit oftentimes unconscious debate over its definition, forever entangling yourself into the history of its use. The way you use it, and which other words you use it with carries weight.
The more you know about where the word wall is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Wall
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word wall.
Video of me pronouncing "wall."
Definition of Wall
I have yet to publish the definition of wall.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of wall in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word wall.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word wall.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word wall.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word wall.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Wall 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.
I have yet to make a morphological analysis of the word wall.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Wall."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word walland any of its morphological derivations appears in the Fiction Corpus, along with a breakdown of frequency by title, the respective rank of each word 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 word over the frequency of the next lowest rank in the complete list.
Percent Increase over next rank
RANK
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
dense
competitive
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to publish the table of frequency for the word wall, but I will get to it shortly. -Michal
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 #6615
i hear gunfire. its echoing off the walls of the ravine. its coming from the other end of the channel.
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.
Jesus would never have dreamed it would be like that. He was always full of hope! His mother was dead: he was full of hope! He took out the picture of his mother he always carried; he cried. Weeping like a newborn child, he cried for his mother. He tore out his fine hair like a young widower. He beat his head against the wall and then he smiled: he praised God for His wisdom.
Oh, that Moochka was a lady alright: if you treated her well, she would treat you back. Your father had her wrapped around his little finger: he could whistle from a hundred meters - farther, if he were upwind - and she would come, like a dog. People were amazed; nobody else could do it: she wouldn't pay attention. When time for milking came around, your father would enter the cowshed, whistle, and Moochka would turn around. First, she would have to lick his hand. Then, he would give her a whole ear of corn, pat her on the head, and, most important of all, sweep her with a broom, from head to tail, right along her back, as gently as possible. Then, sidestepping, she was by the wall, ready for action.
"It's my emotions," she said. "When I get anxious, it overwhelms me like nothing else. There's nothing I can do but wait. I've been known to break things when I panic - tear them down from the wall - but, most of the time, I just run away: so I can be by myself and cry. That way, there's no need to explain myself to anyone."
The next day, I told the older boy that if he actually knew the real words, he should teach them to us. So he did. Your father had a solo during the stupid assembly. He decided to sing the real words, which went like this:
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.
We were standing in a nice corner. The walls around us were high and windowless. Concrete was crumbling and cracking itself. There was a lot of rusted metal. The ground was littered. "You know what I like about big cities? I like these kinds of places: the buttholes and the bellybuttons." There was even some neglected shrubbery around us. It was bordering the crumbling concrete steps upon which Luka was seated. I placed my foot beside his on the lowest one. I started balancing my leg. I thought of the stairs outside our old apartment. I thought of the opium dealer - as a character from a New Comedy, with Luka, the poor yeoman; Anicetus, the corrupted son of an equis; and me, Andreas: the lowly manservant, the torch-bearing slave.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 14, Referencing the Past, Paragraph 16
LUB: You are not listening to me. I want to know where this money is - hey stupu! where is this wallet? Bring it to me. - Are you listening?
NIKE: Yes, I'm listening.
LUB: So tell me where this money is.
NIKE: There is no money: it's gone: finito: kaput.
Hungry people appreciate that rumbling: it is something that momentarily fills the revolving emptiness; one is reminded of one's fate, but that person may still relish the largeness, the otherwise hidden proportions of her emptiness, as the rumbling presses against her walls and reverberates.
Soon enough, she was swallowed by the waiting crowd. They were all waiting to get it on. They might as well have all been naked: I could see right through their clothes. They were all coming in droves: like bees: coming on, getting off. The train kept going in and out of tunnels.
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.
The instruction first took place in the open air of the loggia. Citing the noise of the courtyard, Carmina had it moved to her chamber. Ferrari knew if music did not echo through the walls for even the slightest moment, somebody would investigate. The Baron's room lay through but one set of doors.
As for the rose window, removing the panes would require patience. It was not available in case of emergency.
Tatum sat catatonically. She watched the tunnel lights cast shadows along the wall of the car. Something about them bothered her. She took out the PDA. She played the video. She stared at the image of the man stirring in bed, the door opening, the lights shining from the corridor. They were casting a shadow. Tatum looked at it. She had seen it before. Where? she thought. It was familiar. It was bulbous.
One day, after a hard game of netball, Dorothea went to the girls' locker. She always waited until most of the people had left. She needed to make sure the private shower was unoccupied. With the water off, she started soaping herself. She realized she had once more forgotten to buy a new curtain. This one only came down to her knees.
A pair of giggling women came rushing into the otherwise empty room. Dorothea sat on the seat. She lifted up her legs, resting them against the wall. She didn't want anybody to see them.
"Tell that to the locals. Weren't you listening to Polina? The desert's been growing for two thousand years. The Communists made it worse. There are sand storms in Beijing now. They say they're building a Green Wall of China. Good luck. It'll take them a hundred years to dig the holes."
"Look at the desert highway," said Shephard. "They lined five hundred kilometers with shrubs. It didn't take them that long."
Shephard and Clark ran to their camels. The imam appeared in the portal. He was shaking his fist. Clark and Shephard rode west. At the end of the wall, they turned north. They reached the end of the complex. Ridges of sand rose in every direction. A tunnel carved its way toward the desert. Another tunnel led back to the mosque. The imam emerged at its mouth. He was still shaking his fist. Shephard kicked his heels into his camel.
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.
(KOKOMO moans again.)
MS. JACKSON: There it is again.
LESBIAN: I heard it.
MS. JACKSON: It sounds like-
KOKOMO: (off) It's so big!
MS. JACKSON: Kokomo!
GREY GOOSE: (off) Don't worry. It'll fit.
MS. JACKSON: Grey Goose!
KOKOMO: (off) Just stick it in there.
GREY GOOSE: (off) Patience, my dear. I don't want to tear your walls.
– ACT I, lines 928-936
LESBIAN: How would he feel if he saw us?
MS. JACKSON: What does it matter?
LESBIAN: It does.
MS. JACKSON: Why?
LESBIAN: I don't want hurt him either.
MS. JACKSON: Is that what you're afraid of? Are you afraid of what people might say?
LESBIAN: That's ridiculous.
MS. JACKSON: Are you afraid of having to stay here on Norfolk?
LESBIAN: I'm not afraid of anything.
MS. JACKSON: Neither am I. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of arson or gossip or what people might say if they knew about us. I've been set free from all of those things. I'm no longer afraid of being hurt. Oh, Homo! Do you know what I suffered? It was worse than any prison. The walls were all around my heart. It was like being perpetually pinched. I am grateful to you for saving me from all of that pain. You showed me freedom.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Proctor put back the letter. It didn't mention his name. He looked around. The wall was gleaming. He went to it. He touched it. Wet paint. He looked around. There were specks of red on the floor. Blood. There were more specks. Leading towards a door. Proctor pulled his gun. He went to the door. He opened it. A bathroom. Proctor turned on the light. A body in the tub. Floating in a pool of red. John's husband.
Proctor backed out of the bathroom. He looked at the window. There was a fire escape outside. It went up to the loft. Proctor went to look outside. He realized the window was unlocked. He locked it. He shut the curtain. He walked to the front door. He looked outside. The hallway was empty. Proctor tiptoed out. He tried to shut the door as quietly as he could. It wouldn't shut all the way. The frame was broken. Proctor left it. He started soft-shoeing his way down the hall. He could barely swallow his spit. There was a rock in his throat. The stairs seemed like they were getting farther and farther. He finally reached them. The stairwell was empty. He walked down the stairs. The lobby was empty. Proctor took a deep breath. He went outside. He waved to the policeman in the patrol car. He got to his own car. He drove off.
Proctor found the key. He decided a man carrying a carpet was probable cause. He entered the apartment. It didn't take long to find a photo. It was vic number three. Proctor called in the cavalry. He ordered a search. His phone rang. It was the captain. "Vic number two's fingerprints were in the database," He said. "He got busted for cocaine three years prior. I talked to his bondsman. Says an artist by the name of John Gamble put up security for him." At the sound of the name Proctor audibly swallowed. He wondered if the captain had heard.
"Stay here," said Proctor. "I'm going back to see John." When Proctor got to John's building, there was a squad car outside. An officer behind the wheel. Upstairs his partner stood outside John's door.
"Just you?" asked Proctor. The officer nodded. "Okay. Have a smoke."
"Thanks, boss." The man walked off. Proctor knocked on the door. When John opened it, Proctor busted it wide. He threw John against the wall.
This table lists in descending order of frequency a selection of word pairs that appear in the Fiction Corpus and groups them according to the morphological derivation of the word wall that appears in the pair.
Type
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to perform a collocation analysis of "wall." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
To promote democracy, the strong must empty themselves of their strength. The weak must be granted the opportunity to grow strong. We cannot force the end of patriarchy. To do so simply perpetuates feudalism under a different name.
Help me keep the "Wall" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting art from Poland...is he mental?
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.
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