Michal refuses to study the notion of beefing up his petty Fiction Corpus with a history of fictional characters; cites fatigue
Posted:
I believe in the idea of legislating English as a common language for the world. I don't believe in the enfeebling plan by which the English language is taught.
Reinforcing one's skillfulness with a language isn't like launching a stronger rope. A language - a spoken tongue - is not merely an instrument that you can learn to wield with a greater amount of precision. A common tongue cannot be cleaved from the shared logic 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 student recite English is to rob him of its cultural context. A good educator has to have a blueprint for introducing it; the bravest student goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe words on the basis of a particular corpus, a body of written language of varying scope and consistency. This corpus may contain anything from a book about literature to some really commercial fiction. I watched many nights pass laboring on my "run-of-the-mill" Fiction Corpus to form a special 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 constructed a million words and I have deconstructed them, reframing them - not simply to teach an American language but to be an advocate for the human spirit, and to pressure that spirit or soul 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...
In June of 2011 I arrived in Europe for what I hoped would be a great adventure; my only concrete plan, to visit Croatia. By September I had driven 6,000 miles and visited 12 different countries, all with a woman I met on the first Friday of my trip.
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.
I had grown up in America. Land of opportunity. I came of age in the booming 90s when everything was possible. She had grown up in Poland. She had come of age at a time when the Soviets were making sure that there wasn't even anything to eat in the country. I couldn't even properly translate the word "opportunity" into Polish.
Each man grows up with his own kind of poverty. Even if he's got a warm house and plenty of food and a soft bed and plenty of entertainment, there's always something that a man needs. Sometimes he just needs to be listened to, if only by the birds and the trees, but preferably by another man, even if he's an artist from America who isn't very good at listening. By learning how to listen, we learn how to cooperate. By cooperating, we build a better world. In a better world, there are no devils to abuse us. A better world doesn't lend itself to abuse because a better world is populated by people who have learned how to listen.
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 Curtain
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 curtain in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word curtain, 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 curtain is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Curtain
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word curtain.
Video of me pronouncing "curtain."
Definition of Curtain
I have yet to publish the definition of curtain.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of curtain in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word curtain.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word curtain.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word curtain.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word curtain.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word curtain.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Curtain 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 curtain.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Curtain."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word curtainand 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 curtain, 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 #4618
i drew the curtains. i told harley to imagine shes in the middle of the sea. shes not hyperventilating. i dont think shes trying hard enough.
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 Club 2000 was a retro joint, playing music from the turn of the millennium. 'Don't Puke' by Johnny and the Passports was the song being played as we walked inside. From the vestibule, despite the fact that there was a curtain of smoke hanging six feet down from the ceiling, it was obvious that the club wasn't even half-full. There was nobody dancing, even though the song was actually quite danceable. 'Don't Puke' had been a sizable hit in the first decade of the third millennium. In fact, the Passports had been Czech folk musicians before Johnny brought them to the U.S. and made them play punk. But that's a completely different story.
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 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
For the rest of the night, it was all I could think about. I was oblivious to the third and final act. I kept my hand at my temple. I was applauding mechanically. When curtain call was over and Indiana led Albert out of the row and up the aisle, I walked behind them silently. Even though I was annoyed - when I realized Indiana was calling a cab, and I thought she could have asked me to do it - I didn't say anything. The cab ride was totally silent. Indiana paid the fare, and, as she was getting out after Albert, she stopped and looked at me.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 9
The soprano singing the title role was particularly stunning, especially since we were waiting so long for it: only after her grand entrance on the stage - in a fabulously revealing outfit - did the curtain fall on the first of three acts, joyfully teasing the captive audience, and, as it turned out, marking the end of whatever pleasure I could innocently garner.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 12, Opera, Paragraph 1, Clauses 2-3
Indiana's piano, in my memory, seems like a gigantic whale, grinning at me with its black and white teeth. The fireplace looks like a massive cavern, with a gigantic wooden pylon marking its entrance, gigantic chain-mail curtains framing the ashen path. Outside the drawing room, the foyer is like a universe. The chandelier is like a sun. The main stairs: they are a path to heaven: a broad and dangerous path: its steps are gigantic steps; one must leap onto the next one with all one's strength, only to falter back to one's death. But Indiana gracefully coming down the stairs: she is a goddess. She is a radiant beauty. She puts the chandelier to shame. She lights up the universe. The whale sings out her beauty. The caverns are emptied of shadow. The walls tremble. The portraits in the hall are shaken; the tapestries flap. Far away, the kitchen burns, and the dumb waiter speaks delicacies. That is her house in my memory. That is she who now haunts this quiet room with her absence.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 4, Self-image, Paragraph 2
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 be called 'a man' by a woman is no small thing, especially after knights have always called you 'boy.' It humbled Ferrari. He bowed in gratitude. Adopting a genuinely earnest tone, he mumbled, "If I may be so bold, Your Ladyship, to ask you for your curtain."
Like a cat, Carmina impassively turned her face forward. For a few secretly proud moments, she waited. Reaching the end of her patience, she turned back and muttered, "There will be no fee." Snapping shut the curtain, she added, "Charity is its own reward."
Davis was so shocked, she ran away without her clothes. Sammy D was mesmerized. Dorothea sat slouched on a tiny bench. Her hand lay between her hairy, outstretched legs. Her soft, sedimented breasts had run aground like Viking boats upon her belly. She could barely lift her head. Sammy D stepped inside. For the sake of modesty, she shut the curtain.
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.
It was Davis and Sammy D. They too had waited for everybody to leave. Seeing that the room was empty, they locked the door. They started doing naughty things. Dorothea peeped past the edge of the curtain. She couldn't believe it. The two women were doing it. She watched. She couldn't take her eyes away. She kept absolutely still.
Thirty minutes passed. The women started giggling again. Sammy D whispered, "It reminds me of the first time I made love."
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.
ALICE: (off) You gave them a three-thousand-dollar tip?
(FLETCHER exits with the music box. ALICE and LUKE enter carrying luggage.)
LUKE: What's wrong with that?
ALICE: Are you an idiot?
LUKE: I had a pretty nice stay.
ALICE: You said that in Bali after they bombed the restaurant.
LUKE: Honestly, fried rice never tasted better.
ALICE: And at that hotel where the hot plate was in the bathroom.
LUKE: I could make tea while I was on the john.
ALICE: And in Brisbane - where they didn't have a shower curtain and they didn't bring us one after I asked the maid about ten thousand times - I had to go and get one myself after I almost slipped and killed myself on the bathroom floor - what did you do then? You tipped that girl five hundred dollars.
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 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.
The Amazon called his team. One half was still following Orbitz on the cruise ship. The other half was in front of the shop. He ordered them into the neon building. They walked up to the second floor. The team leader paused. He could hear something in the room ahead. It sounded like a man rapping his fingers on a desk. He pushed open the door. There was no desk. There was no man. There was clutter everywhere. Strange objects of art and furniture stacked on top of each other loomed from every corner. The rapping continued. It was slower now. It was more cautious. The men squeezed into the room. All of them were transfixed by the sound. It was coming from behind a low curtain. The curtain was draped over what seemed like a crate. Or a cage. The men crowded in front of it. The leader reached out his hand. He grabbed a corner of the curtain. He lifted it.
John nodded. "Unless he got another one." Proctor was already out the door. He called the policeman up. He passed him on the stairs. When he heard the door to the hallway shut he went back up a flight. To the floor below John's apartment. He found the right door. He kicked it open. Inside stood the shadow of a bed. A desk. John went to the window. He opened the curtains. He started rummaging through the drawers. He didn't have to look for long. "Dear beloved," said a letter. It listed the names of the victims. Starting with Emily.
That night Proctor was woken by a noise. He came downstairs to find an open window. The curtains were blowing in the wind. He heard the sound of a table being nudged along the floor. He drew his gun. With bated breath he inched towards the nearest light switch. He flipped it on. A raccoon jerked its head. Its eyes glowing. Proctor shut the light. He waited in silence for what seemed like hours. There was no one.
We need only refer to nineteenth century French literature to confirm this. According to Anatole France, Saint Paphnutius was destroyed by a look. Struck by the sight of Thais on stage, as she played the role of pure-hearted Polyxena, lifting the curtain with her white arm, pride and resignation in her violet eyes, the hermit monk, sent to save the whore from her dissipation, grew so infatuated with her image, learning later she was on her death bed, surrounded by her fellow nuns, he begged her petulantly not to die, rejecting Heaven, as she rose, moments before her final breath, to proclaim a vision of God with such rapture in her eyes, it held for poor Paphnutius the profound emptiness of his own soul. He turned into a vampire. That is the power of a look.
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 curtain 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 "curtain." 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 "Curtain" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing Polish art...is he crackers?
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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