Michal is deliberating on the potential of enhancing his lowly Fiction Corpus with an entire set of british literature books; cites fatigue
Posted:
I have faith in the potency of exploiting English as everybody's second language. I do reject the enfeebling process by which the English tongue is taught.
Reenforcing a person's dexterity with a language isn't like making a hotter kiln. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't merely a tool that you can teach yourself to use with a greater amount of precision. A shared language can not be fractured from the professed knowledge of a group 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 pupils to recite English is to strip them of its cultural context. An informed educator must find a way to introduce it; the prudent pupil ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe a language based on a particular corpus, a set of writing of various size and consistency. They could include anything from a book about literature to a bunch of fiction book titles. I lost many a sleepless night laboring on my "insignificant" Fiction Corpus to form a precise genre of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in myriad forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have prepared a million words and I have evaluated them, reframing them - not merely to teach a tongue but to promote the human spirit, and to provoke 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...
On Monday, I arrived in Europe. By Wednesday I had bought a car. By Friday I had met the woman who a few months later would end up having travelling 6,000 miles across Europe with me.
Though I felt fully formed as a writer, and had been trained in visual language, it was my first time with a professional camera in my hands. I was just learning the ins and outs and had come to Europe to find as diverse a selection of subject matter as possible, preferably something that fit my aesthetic devotion to promoting body acceptance. Enter Margo.
As an American, I was full of optimism and confidence bordering on recklessness. I was ready to run the wheels off the car I had just bought and eventually I would. As a European, she was cautious and mistrustful. She needed to make sure the air conditioner worked. Which it did. If you knew how to turn the broken knob in just the right way.
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 Entrance
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 entrance in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word entrance, 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 entrance is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Entrance
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word entrance.
Video of me pronouncing "entrance."
Definition of Entrance
I have yet to publish the definition of entrance.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of entrance in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word entrance.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word entrance.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word entrance.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word entrance.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Entrance 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 entrance.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Entrance."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word entranceand 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 entrance, 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 #6943
weve got seven cars shining their headlights in front of the main entrance. i dont think anybodys coming this way.
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.
There was still a small crowd of people near the entrance to the club. Jesus had no idea who those people were, but, nevertheless, trying to approach his prey at that point would've been suicide; Jesus had no way of knowing how many random people knew him as that guy whose father sells books - "you know, his father's that crazy guy who talks to himself," they would've told the police. Besides, the Krupnik would've seen his face, and, having seen his face, Jesus would've been compelled by all sense of self-preservation to kill the man. That was not an option: Jesus was not prepared to kill anyone; he was not a murderer; he was a poor man. Jesus waited. The future brother-in-law showed up. "Shit," Jesus said. The two of them were leaving together; that made things very difficult.
Before I finished this thought, the guard appeared in the entrance to the kitchen. He was standing there dumbfounded. He saw me holding out the gun in my right hand. His face suddenly registered shock as I threw him the weapon. He caught it. He was so surprised he didn't know what to do. He looked at me rather quizzically as I began backing up. He followed me into the lounge, not realizing that I was hiding another weapon behind my thigh. As soon as the guard entered a blind spot (I knew where all of them were), and my hand was blocked from the cameras by a bar, I shot him. I shot him in the right knee. He grimaced and fell. Trying to shoot me with the gun I threw, he realized it was empty. I hit the fool with the butt of my gun and knocked him out. When I returned within range of the cameras, my gun was hidden, I was alone and walking toward the stairs.
"Henry was a good man," said Jesus. "He fought to unite the Silesian lands. His son, Henry the Second, died fighting the Mongols. His army of German and Polish knights defeated them, but poor Henry didn't survive to see it."
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.
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
There was the car. The woman in front. Still walking, slowing down. See the headlights. Brilliantly, they bathed her. A beauty. Domino: witch for all we knew hiding behind a mask of gentle womanhood. Entranced. A pale face: round, clean: a sharp jaw! Beautiful, blunted chin. Mercy! Woman. What mortal creature would harm you? The moon hid. Shamed by a daughter of Eve who walks with such authority? Proud mien: terrified - at the same time, uncompromising.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 22, Encountering Poverty, Paragraph 50
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
Indeed, pain was all he found after being released. Nike had to walk bandy-legged out of the hospital. Since there were no taxi-cabs waiting by the entrance, he had to walk like that for about three blocks. Now, most of the men would smile and chuckle to themselves, not thinking the worst, but only the most obvious: that which they themselves had undergone at some point or another: the kind of premature abortion that leaves a man wincing for the night. And, for the same reason, most of the women would look away and grimace.
But the building soon proved to be an embarrassment to John Nash, who was forced off the project in his tender years, and was even subjected to an official inquiry, as not only the cost, but the structural soundness of the building was called into question. Well, it's a good thing that Mr. Nash did not survive to hear the end of it, because several years later it was discovered, and I can only imagine under what horribly embarrassing circumstances, that the Marble Arch, which Mr. Nash so kindly designed for the main entrance, was too narrow to allow the grandest coaches to pass.
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.
Neal clenched the wheel. "If we go any faster, we'll fly off the moon." The other rover stopped a few yards from the entrance. The driver got out. He started leaping towards the door.
"He's going to beat us," said Tatum. "He'll lock us out."
"Not if I can help it." Neal leaned over. He grabbed a rock.
One day, Tae realized a woman was crying in Kwon's tent. He crossed his friend's field. He peered through the entrance. He could see Kwon consoling Do. Tae made a sound. Kwon came outside. He frowned. He said, "Do went for a walk in the hills. She caught Hong with Kong."
Tae's eyes went wild. "The boy?" Kwon nodded. "The old man?" Kwon nodded. "They were?" Kwon nodded. Tae laughed. "Six men. Six women. I guess they're lucky to have each other."
The car was back; the woman, in front, turning, slowing, seeing the headlights beginning to bathe her brilliantly-an attractive girl-a witch for all we knew hiding behind a mask of maidenhood-stood entranced, a pale face with a round shape-a clean, sharp jaw-a beautiful, blunted chin. What being could possibly harm her? The moon hid, shamed to see a mortal daughter of Eve walk with such authority. It was a proud mien on a worried-at the same time, not unprepared woman-an uncompromising beauty-who betrayed little fear upon her unwelted brow.
Shamans in the form of mascots and cheerleaders tried to entrance the people. Loud music blared. Lights flashed. The warriors emerged. Large video screens detailed their physical attributes. The show, thought Tatum, was as primitive as it was modern.
Clark noticed them. He looked at Shephard. They said, "The camels." They rushed back into the building. They stumbled over each other in the dark. They reached the entrance. They poked their heads out in time to see a man driving their camels over the top of the nearest dune. He disappeared.
"My phone," said Clark. "My passport. My diplomatic badge."
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.
"Entrance" does not make an appearance in Sorry Miss Jackson.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
The house nearest the bottom of the hill lay between Update and Download streets. It had its official front door on Update Street. The entrance to its driveway was on Download Street. The address said 1 Update Street and was assigned to Rural Route 6 but the man who lived there decided one day that he would prefer to pick up his mail from his car as he got home from work. This was more convenient for him. He put his box for 1 Update Street next to the box for 1 Download Hill. The postman on Rural Route 6 was now expected to end his trip down the hill at the same spot where the postman for Rural Route 2 ended his trip. To make matters better, the man on 1 Update Street had planted a hedgerow on the southern edge of his property twenty years earlier. This was done obviously with the intention of pissing off the mailmen.
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 entrance 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 "entrance." 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.
Help me keep the "Entrance" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting art...is he bonkers?
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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