Help End Intimidation With Art

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...

Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.

As an artist, from the beginning of my adult career, my work had been devoted to the problem of body acceptance, a goal that I would later learn was shared by a whole community of people called naturists, a humble portion of which I discovered residing in Poland, a country whose cultural conservatism does not lend itself readily to forward thinking. One of those forward-thinking Polish naturists happened to be Margo.

From America I brought with me the American can-do spirit. She saw the car that I had bought, the terrible camp stove I had borrowed, and my sundry canned goods and challenged me to make-do. In my optimism I assured her that if we lacked for anything I would make up the difference. She assured me that if she lacked for anything she would find her way to the nearest airport and fly home. Luckily that never happened.

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 -13**
7/7/2011
⚖ 18༚♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
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 -13**
7/7/2011
⚖ 18༚♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
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 Bag 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 word "bag" 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 Bag: Table of Contents."“And...?”

The Table of Frequency and the Table of Collocation provide numerical information about how many times the word bag appears in its 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 Bag: Table of Contents

Bag, a morphological approach

I have yet to make a morphological analysis of the word bag.

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

Table of Frequency for the Word "Bag."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word bagand 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
	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 word bag, but I will get to it shortly. -Michal

Back to Usage of Bag: Table of Contents

Usage of Bag 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 #4654

jayce didnt grab target for money. she grabbed him for information. she wants the truth behind her lying scumbag whore girlfriend.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

11 October, 9:50 AM

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Usage of Bag 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.

"Yes," he said. "That's the bag in which I sold heroin to a Krupnik. 'Just a little bit for the road,' his future brother-in-law had said. 'I thought you don't sniff,' I said. 'When I'm like this,' he said, 'I can do anything.'"

"Why is this bag still here?" I asked.

– Verses 597-598 from the chapter called Adolescence

"How do you know it was his bag?"

"Because I gave it to him."

– Verses 777-778 from the chapter called Bohemia

YOUR MOTHER IS DEAD: STATUS ASTHMATICUS FINIVIT. PACK YOUR BAGS AND COME FOR THE FUNERAL.

That was it.

– Verses 17-18 from the chapter called Adolescence

"Goddamn estate! Trinkets, trifles, and baubles piled in heaps all over the place! Things they took from the garbage! I tried to vacuum their carpets - you know what they gave me to use? A vacuum cleaner they took from the dump! I wanted to wash Andrew's dirty shirts - they do their laundry twice a year: in spring and fall. He gave me an open bin with a rotor. 'That's the best kind,' he said. 'It's a washing machine for the field.' It's a washing machine he took from the dump: they haven't sold those for forty years - it's Russian crap! The agitator tore everything apart. I told him, 'Andrew, get yourself a wife!' But who's going to marry a fifty year old with five teeth? He never had time to go to the dentist. And why?"

"Because of the estate," said Jesus.

– Verses 261-262 from the chapter called Adolescence

Going back, I found yet another strange and delightful specimen: the boletus luteus, the mud-colored mushroom: the unctuous borowik. There was not one, but two sticky brown pilei - two stems connected to one foot. I put them (or it) into my bag, next to the Cossack.

– Verse 16 from the chapter called Bohemia

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Usage of Bag 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.

NIKE: They're in a bag: look.

MAN: Alright.

NIKE: Open the door.

NIKE: ...

MAN: Give them to me.

NIKE: No.

MAN: Then forget about it.

NIKE: Hey, wait a minute: there's a message.

MAN: What is it?

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 14, Getting to the Heart of a Matter, Paragraphs 27-36

Is it a person's right to participate simply because the participants receive privileges? There is something perplexing about that. It's also strange that the court interprets the protection of the traditional family as equivalent to actively increasing the number of people who choose to belong to such families, and that because the state cannot prove it could increase those numbers, it has no rational reason to protect that tradition. Can you figure that one out? I urge you to read the argument: perhaps you can decipher some sensibility in all that garbage.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 18, The Role of the Judicious Mind, Paragraph 4

Nike will find, I'm afraid, that someday he'll be shocked by happiness; he will discover that most precious gem, that perfect construction of existence, hiding behind the curtains of the window or peeking out from under the radiator, on the top shelf in the walk-in closet, in the basement, under the boxes of not-to-be-thrown-away garbage, or shrouded behind cobwebs, next to the boiler.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 1, Clause 1

BERT: Oh, he was crazy, just crazy - lived out of a bag: did nothing but travel from house to house visiting mathematicians. I believe his motto was something like, 'another roof, another proof.' But he said a lot of funny things. His favorite word was 'fascist.' He applied it to anything that annoyed him. And he would call everything fascist, indiscriminately, because anything could annoy him - except math. That's what he lived for: mathematics and nothing else. He would spend seventeen hours a day on math - didn't care about food, sex, family, nothing. Sexual pleasure annoyed him. And do you know what he called you if you were married?

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 8, Financial Instruments, Paragraph 46

But these were more familiar garments: I recognized one of Macy's old T-shirts, one of my favorites, very colorful but tasteful, very tasteful. I had not seen him wear it in years, so many long years, and I imagined a younger Macy wearing it once again. I smiled, and looking around the room, the clutter no longer seemed like clutter. It was Macy: the evidence of his existence. It was his clothing in the bag, his old papers stacked in piles around the room. They were his books, his quarters, his dimes and nickels that were scattered across the desk. It was his pile of pennies that lay separate. It was his bed in the corner, his sheets that were ruffled, his comforter, his blankets falling off the edge.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 9, Intoxication, Paragraph 1, Clauses 6-14

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Usage of Bag 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.

"A Bantu woman," thought Junior, "in my company. She must be worthwhile." He checked the department listing. She was a secretary for Ann Taylor. That was going to be a problem. Ann was the most successful woman in the history of the company. She worked for the general commercial manager, Randall G. Fitzwater III.

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring a frank discussion of cruelty to animals

Junior tried looking through the company's personnel files. He wanted somebody young, experienced, with a mature sensibility and a drive to explore new things, which for Junior meant the possibility of settling down. Federal tax exemptions and social security numbers did not provide as much insight as he had hoped. The names were nothing special.

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring a frank discussion of debauchery

"They're the vice squad," said Ann, sarcastically.

Junior ignored it. "R and D challenged upper management to a game. We need you for a point guard."

Harry Connick shook his head. "I'm not upper management."

"Yes, you are," insisted Debbie, as she munched on a chicken wing. "You're a chief accountant."

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring a horse-race

"It's horrible. It resembles a suitcase. The corners are sharp. The strap is short. If it weren't black, you could mistake it for a carpetbag, the kind that looks like a pot of dead hibiscus. Imagine trying to lug that thing around."

"I would use it like a tote bag," said Nyota. "I would put my groceries in it. I might start a fashion trend."

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring sex

While Junior was on his back, chin-deep in green, Purse carefully took the club from Sammy D's hands. He spread his lips the way a caddy parts the fabric of a headcover sock. He pushed all the way down.

"My God," said Junior. "Sammy D, how do you do that?"

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring a lothario of sorts

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Usage of Bag 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.

GREY GOOSE: Let's face it. I'm as old as a carburetor and half as useful. Throw me out with the rest of the garbage. I don't care - as long as you let me waft through here on occasion.

FLETCHER: Don't let Mother see you.

GREY GOOSE: I won't.

FLETCHER: Don't let her smell you either.

GREY GOOSE: Prick.

FLETCHER: Old fart.

– ACT I, lines 1287-1292

MS. JACKSON: What about my heirloom?

GREY GOOSE: What heirloom?

MS. JACKSON: The one you stole.

GREY GOOSE: I didn't steal anything.

MS. JACKSON: Don't lie to me.

GREY GOOSE: I didn't.

LESBIAN: I did. I packed it away in my bag. I have two tickets for tonight's flight: one for me and one for you. Come. We'll explore the world as your ancestors did: the English and the Polynesians. They went from west to east; we'll go from east to west. We'll show the lost and the lovelorn what true devotion means. We'll scale Victory Peak in China. We'll sail the Punjab. We'll get lost in Gargas Cave. We'll bathe in the hot springs beneath Mount Hekla. We'll catch a Broadway show. We'll do some shopping at Shinjuku Station. We'll do anything your heart desires. All you have to do is liberate yourself. Let your passions run free. Someday we'll return to your native land. It won't ever be the same again. Nevermore will you be shamed. Woman, you'll have made the entire world yours.

MS. JACKSON: Nameless Pain! How am I to deny a penitent husband - newly birthed in remorse, in truth, in love, and desirous of similar gifts from me, his lawfully wedded wife, who, for so long, and with so many tears, kept watch over this heretofore seemingly endless and vain gestation - yet relish this sudden appearance of life: this infant curiosity: this foundling whose love demands more than my adoption could ever give? Oh, Homo: a thousand hearts couldn't beat as strongly as you have made mine beat. This is my home. I can no sooner leave it than change my body for that of a man. The world is yours; go out there and take it. Please leave me in peace. I beg you.

LESBIAN: I'll go. Though it pains me more than female circumcision, I'll go. I'll go because I love you.

– ACT II, lines 357-365

(LESBIAN exits.)

LUKE: Speakin' of leaving, I'd just like to say that it's been a pleasure staying here with you all. As much as I'd like to stay longer - ingestin' your wonderful fish, Kokomo, and imbibin' your wonderful grog, Master Grey Goose, et cet'ra, et cet'ra - as me manager would say, duty calls. Mistress Jackson, Fletch, Grey Goose, Kokomo: it's been real nice. Nevertheless, me and the Mrs. have to be going. I'll leave you the check on me way out - right after I pack me bags.

– ACT II, lines 366-366

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 exits.)

KOKOMO: Yet again, I'm left holding the wet, dirty towels. Not to worry. It's alright. I don't mind. In truth, if I could spend the rest of my life cleaning up after Fletcher Christian, I would be a very happy woman. Even if that is silly and backwards, that's how I feel. I would never phrase it like that to anybody; I'm not crazy. I'd make him take out the garbage and all that. Alice is right. It's high time I told him how much he makes my heart beat. I could turn it into a joke if it looks like he's uncomfortable. That would be dreadful. What kind of a joke would it be? I need a heart transplant? That's not funny. What am I going to do?

MS. JACKSON: Kokomo!

KOKOMO: Of course: the laundry.

– ACT I, lines 1381-1383

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Usage of Bag 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.

I learned later that the headman of the village had asked that I be replaced. He had claimed to the Ministry that I was crazy. That I talked to myself. That all the parents in the village were afraid to leave their children with me. I proved him wrong. If not for Putin and my three pupils, I would've been packing my bags for Moscow that very weekend. I would have lived in the village for all of two weeks instead of almost twenty years. I would never have stayed to teach a community of children how to grow up. I would never have married a local Russian girl. I would never have become the village headman. I would never have run for mayor.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that represents something true, though the details are not factual

Indiana's mouth moved as much as ever. "I only drink green tea," she mentioned. "What do you think of those triangular tea bags? I don't think they make a difference. The problem is the size of the leaves. They chop them into tiny pieces. How do they not lose flavor? You need to chop them to a medium size, if you're going to chop at all. I use whole leaves. I put them into a sieve. I pour the water into the sieve. That's how I do it. Isn't that the better way? Tea is good for you - not if it's too black. I only drink black tea once in a while. I'm always careful not to let it sit too long. I put too much sugar into it. That's my thing."

– from “St. Andrew's Eve,” a story of love that may ease one's sense of discomfort depending on your outlook

From the moment I got into Steve's car in Manhattan to the moment we reached Woodstock, Peter was constantly munching on some kind of vegan cracker. I don't remember if he was a vegan. I only remember the loudness of the munching, the maddening consistency of it and the ultimate reluctance on Peter's part to share any crackers, after giving up one or two of them to try, which passed from his hands as readily as a gold bar. I was told the crackers were meant to be Peter's main source of nutrition for I guess the entire trip. I offered him some of my own store to which he replied rather indignantly that he didn't eat processed food. I laughed. I told him to look at the bag he was holding. I doubted his chips had fallen naturally from a vegan chip plant. We got into an argument over the meaning of the word process which from my point of view he just didn't understand.

– from “Woodstock,” a life story based on true experiences, namely the author's

I am surprised by death. When the bullet entered from behind and the wind began to rush away from me I packed my bags as fast as I could. Every moment I could salvage was stuffed into the nearest carry-on I could find. I thought for sure I would ride that wind away from me. Yet I remained. Locked in a melting prison. The worms now all around.

– from “Shovels Fall,” an interesting story about the cycle of violence throughout history

Light seeps in. A tunneling creature has freed us. We are lifted on the breeze. I leave my bags behind. I must cling to my comrade. For an instant a field lies ahead. Then the sky. Then the backs of doves. I wonder carelessly if we are approaching heaven but the spinning keeps its relentless pace.

– from “Shovels Fall,” an interesting story about the cycle of social upheaval throughout history

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Collocation of Bag in the Fiction Corpus

Table of Collocation for the Word "Bag."
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 bag that appears in the pair.
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 "bag." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal