Michal's deliberating on the practicality of amplifying his ordinary Fiction Corpus with a history of educational reform; cites fatigue
Posted:
I don't doubt the viability of harnessing English as humanity's second language. I do question the demoralizing style in which the English tongue is taught.
Reinforcing one's familiarity with a language isn't like promoting a more valuable coin. A language - a common tongue - isn't merely an instrument that you can learn to wield with a greater amount of precision. A spoken tongue cannot be disjoined from the professed knowledge of a society 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 student recite English is to cheat her out of its cultural context. A proper instructor must have a blueprint for introducing it; the perceptive pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe a language on the basis of a specific corpus, a set of writing of various scope and consistency. They could contain everything from a book about literature to a set of british literature books. I suffered many a sleepless night developing my "staggering" Fiction Corpus in order to form a precise sort 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 sculpted a million words and I have ordered them, reshaping them - not merely to teach an American language but to be an advocate for the human soul, and to goad that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
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...
Europe, the summer of 2011. Twelve countries. 46 days. One car. One tent. One man. One woman he's just met.
I had come to Europe to experience European naturism, a movement whose philosophy matched my aesthetic of body acceptance and whose organizational structure and leadership I had thought almost exclusively restricted to the western half of the continent. I was shocked to learn that naturism had an official home in Poland, a country not especially known for its liberal culture. I was less shocked to discover that the home was owned by a Dutchman, but even more shocked to learn that it had been largely built by Margo.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
I've never gone hungry without deserving it. I've never been systemically beaten by a parent. I've never been fondled by a priest. That doesn't mean I can't listen to somebody who has had to experience such abuse and it doesn't mean I can't try to understand. Margo and I traveled 6,000 miles together. We slept in the same tent. We had to listen to each other. A person shouldn't need 6,000 miles to do it. We should be able to listen to each other just because we want to. We should've been taught to do it. If we haven't been taught, we should be learning how to do it and learning fast.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
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.
Michal's Dictionary: Understanding the word Color
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 color in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word color, 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 color is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Color
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word color.
Video of me pronouncing "color."
Definition of Color
I have yet to publish the definition of color.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of color in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word color.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word color.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word color.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word color.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word color.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Color 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 color.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Color."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word colorand 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 color, 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.
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.
The trail narrowed. Jesus led the way down the bottom of the mountain to Basement Road. Its colorful, graffiti-filled walls greeted them through the foliage. "Is it safe?" asked Zoe, timidly.
We went to the other car; it was old and small, but had a diesel engine. Sitting inside, Jesus waited while the Krupnik painted. Using cans of spray paint, he changed his car's color from red to green. Then, removing his license plate, he placed it inside his trunk and found somebody else's (probably someone who was dead). This one he attached.
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.
When I went to the paper-money-actuated coin dispenser, I removed a high-denomination bill from my wallet and a monkey stole it. He came out of nowhere and ripped it from my hand. He was a half a meter long, with a somewhat longer tail. He was tan colored, with a big, round head, a bare brown face and well-built arms and legs. He looked at me from two meters away and said 'Come and get it.' He was thick; his body was nice and thick - well-fed - his belly was bulging out like nobody's business. "You've got a lot of nerve," I said, "with a belly like that." He was standing erect, using his tail for support. Then he placed the paper money into his mouth, turned around, dropped to his little monkey hands and walked away - very, very slowly. The bastard didn't even run; he walked.
In those days, women wore anything that resembled something from a famous hand-tinted photograph from the nineteenth century. There was a free catalog available on the Internet, listing all the famous collections and the most famous photographs, organizing them by date or location, or photographer, painter, model - every criterion available - but especially by women's dress. The crinoline; the cage crinoline, dome and pyramid, flat in front; the crinolette; and the bustle were all represented in their various forms and colors. Even pornographic photographs were readily available to show off every type of undergarment. Famous women wore bloomers underneath their petticoats: the kind with an open crotch and single button, which made it much easier to have sex fully clothed, a favorite and celebrated pastime for the elites.
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.
By the time Nike walked up to the car - after patiently waiting behind us - we were almost ready to go. But rolling up the window, I turned to Indiana and confessed: "I can't drive anymore either: I'm useless." She laughed; it was so nice to see her laugh, I started laughing too: we were both giggling hysterically like schoolgirls. Indiana said we would have to sleep right there by the side of the road. I said Nike would have to push us. "But look," I said, "my hands are all black. I'm going to get your steering wheel dirty." There's no need to worry, she said; steering wheels are unimportant, and besides, this one was black already. So we laughed, driving the rest of the way intoxicated. By the end, both our faces had lost their alien colors.
Nike had to explain to Luka that I was not like other people, that I had no idea what they understood by the term 'work,' that I was not really a piano teacher - at least, not in the professional sense - but that I was, in fact, a writer pretending to be 'working' on a novel, which really meant that I was only "staring at the wall" or "consuming massive amounts of jellybeans, shitting coffee in every color of the rainbow," et cetera, et cetera, but certainly not doing work in the common sense of the term. According to Nike, the most I was doing was sharpening pencils. I thanked him for the explanation. "But really," I said, "is there anything you want to see in particular?"
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 3, Comparing Men, Paragraph 2
Christie's hue struck a personal chord with me; I had once seriously considered dying my own boring hair a similar color. I confessed as much to Macy, and was quite surprised when he echoed my fascination. This inspired a very intimate conversation, the most intimate we had ever had; that night I remarked to myself how much we had grown as friends, how close to each other's hearts we had finally come, especially in those last few hours, and, suddenly infatuated with his openness, I felt quite safe judging him the best of my friends. I was not yet aware of my latent jealousy, but my ignorance was not to last.
But Luka's beard is interesting by itself, and for a very specific reason: it reminds me of the man who sold opium to me and Nike when we were sophomores. He, too, was short and portly, with dark curly hair - even a similar complexion: because Luke, as you know, is relatively light-skinned, but Luka is just a bit darker - and so was the man who sold to us. Wearing his beard, Luka looks just like that man. Otherwise, there would be no connection: the beard is what makes them similar - their faces have nothing in common. Isn't that strange of me? Their beards have nothing in common either: there's nothing distinctive about them - not color, texture, trimming - nothing: they are absolutely run-of-the-mill ordinary. So why do they stand out?
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 5, A Man's Features, Paragraph 4
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.
To the west, the forest was not half as thick. Within minutes, Barbara was on the edge of a long stretch of lawn. Moonlight colored everything an eerie shade of grey. In the distance, the pastel walls of the Château de Bagatelle gleamed. It was hopelessly far away. It didn't matter. Barbara ran.
Luka reached the edge. He was not a slim man. It took him a few moments to catch up. He grabbed Barbara's cloak. He pulled her back. He wrapped himself around her. He clamped her mouth shut.
Tatum chose not to change. Her cream-colored halter top and knee-breeches would have to do. She returned to the bathhouse. It was totally deserted. The sign for the radioactive pool glared at her from across the corridor.
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.
FLETCHER: Bigger than your husband.
LESBIAN: Or so I'm told. I didn't actually see them. What I saw was smaller: about six or seven feet. They had these big beaks and enormous eyes made from concentric circles: each circle colored differently from the next. They looked like crazed chickens dancing around like that. Of course, with masks so big, the focus turns to a dancer's legs, the swaying of his hips-
MS. JACKSON: And everything in between.
ALICE: Ms. Jackson!
LESBIAN: His arms are busy holding up the mask.
MS. JACKSON: I'm not surprised: making women do the work.
LESBIAN: I wonder if any Polynesians use a big mask. Would your cook know?
MS. JACKSON: Probably not. Where is my cook? Does she know the kitchen still needs cleaning?
FLETCHER: Why are you looking at me?
– ACT I, lines 424-432
GREY GOOSE: Imprisonment: starvation: being pressed to death.
MS. JACKSON: Is that what awaits me, husband?
GREY GOOSE: No.
MS. JACKSON: Then what?
GREY GOOSE: You know what the penalty is.
MS. JACKSON: Homelessness? You think that if you burn my house down, I'll come live in your sty? Fool! I'd rather wander about the island cursing your name for the rest of my life.
GREY GOOSE: Do you know what I adore about fire? More than its color, its beauty, or its warmth? more than its light, its speed, or its age? more than the fear it brings to bug or beast? more than its purity? its fertility? its never-ending energy? or its ability to wander about the island endlessly seeking out its prey? More than all those things, I love its loyalty to itself: its obedience to nature. Oh, wife! When you know how to stoke her, she can be so perfectly predictable.
MS. JACKSON: Fletcher would never let you get away with it.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
"Hungarians don't fast from meat on Christmas Eve," said Indiana. "It is the opposite. We take all day to make sausage - with garlic and paprika. The color is my favorite. It is like that wood - what do you call it?" She stroked the timber of the mantel. She whispered, "Darker than this." She turned towards the baseboard. She smiled. She reached to touch it. She didn't see the bucket of water. The cherry branch sticking out of it dropped to the floor. Grandmother gasped. Mother shook her head.
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 color 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 "color." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
St. Sebastian was a member of the Roman Emperor's praetorian guard who had the audacity to teach Christian values while on the job. I think active duty American military men and women who don't vote or who don't publicly express a political opinion because of the uniform are either being idiotic or are being cowed by the threat of punishment from a superior. Either way, they're eunuchs. My purpose in creating the St. Sebastian Series is to put the flesh and face of the true soldier front and center. The good soldier puts his mission ahead of himself. He often ends up dead. The true soldier knows a bad mission when he sees one and he isn't afraid to say it. Saint Sebastian was not a cow, despite what clever people would have you believe. Saint Sebastian is a patron saint for all protestors who face the arrows of the mob for speaking out.
Your purchases keep the "Color" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting Polish art...is he touched?
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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