Michal's studying the idea of enhancing his unheroic Fiction Corpus with some real short stories; cites fatigue
Posted:
I can't reject the feasibility of honoring English as a worldwide language. I don't accept the enfeebling mode in which the English language is taught.
Perfecting one's mastery of a language isn't like introducing a more comfortable bed. A language - a living language - isn't merely an instrument that you can learn to manipulate with a greater amount of precision. A living language can not be parted from the professed knowledge of a community 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 pupils recite English is to rob them of its cultural context. A capable teacher has to develop a strategy for introducing it; the discerning pupil ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will define words on the basis of a specific corpus, a body of written language of varying size and consistency. A corpus can include everything from a book about literature to a few science fiction novels. I lost many a sleepless night forging my "monumental" Fiction Corpus in order to form a distinct genre of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in many different forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have crafted a million words and I have cut them down, reframing them - not just to teach a language but to reveal the human soul, and to propel 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...
Four days after I arrived in Poland, the largely Catholic country was celebrating Corpus Christi, complete with solemn processions down the street. Three days later I had made a solemn vow that if given the chance to express it, I would show love to a woman I had only just met.
Call it an accident. Call it divine will. I was never supposed to meet Margo...if not for one man's random criminal act...another abuse piled upon humanity by a fellow human. A robbery. A purse-snatching of a purse that happened to contain a passport. An assault on the human body. One of society's bad habits that I had come to fight as an artist working for body acceptance.
I was from America, land of the free...home of the brave. She carried the weight of Old Europe...domestic and religious poverties...stifled creativity. Anger. Sadness. Yearning.
As far apart culturally as we may have been, we spent 6,000 miles in one car. We spent over 40 nights in one tent. We started learning how to listen to each other. We started learning how to accept our differences and how to let them help us instead of driving us apart. Slowly but surely, we started learning how to beat the devils that abuse us.
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 Food
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 food in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word food, 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 food is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Food
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word food.
Video of me pronouncing "food."
Definition of Food
I have yet to publish the definition of food.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of food in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word food.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word food.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word food.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word food.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word food.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Food 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 food.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Food."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word foodand 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 food, 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 #2903
i thought id have trouble finding the station. its the only building in kelso. apart from a few food factories. all the actions northeast.
An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.
Jesus's fame was strong and double-edged. He had joined the ranks of infamous sons, like the former British prime minister's son, who was accused of planning a rebellion and a hostile take-over in a small and out-of-the-way space station, or the son of the Secretary-General of the United Nations, who was accused of skimming billions and billions of dollars from an oil-for-food program that was in effect for years until Sadatmo of Daghbod was captured by the Americans. The difference was that Jesus had come out on the good side, whatever the hell that was. Jesus had no idea who his allies were, but, thanks to the fact that his enemies had bad reputations, his side, indeed, seemed to be the better one. Nevertheless, he was not immune to criticism. People from all sides were afraid of his newly found power. It was easy to say that Jesus had come from a privileged background, though he had and had not; it was easy to say that Jesus wasn't really on the side of the regular man, though Jesus never actually said that he was; it was easy to say that Jesus was above the law, even though everyone knew that he wasn't the only one.
"The Wolf said, 'Now that you trust me, I will tell you my story. When I was alive, I was leader of the pack. In those days, like now, there was very little food. But there was even less in those days: we hunted living skeletons. We were so hungry, the pack said, "Father, let us go to the men's campsite and beg for food." I said, "No: they do not trust us. They killed my mother and my father when I was young. I am not bitter, nor do I seek revenge, but I know that if we go there to beg, they will surely kill us."
"Sodium benzoate, an organic food preservative whose active agent is benzoic acid, first prepared in the sixteenth century from gum benzoin, a resin obtained from certain Asian trees. Sapper: I read it on the Internet. The Portuguese didn't get sick from it because their ketchup had benzoic acid - not just vinegar."
Jesus went to his grandmother's house. She made us food; we ate. She said, "God bless you, Jesus. My daughter loved you: she loved you like a mother loves her own son."
About five hundred years before I was born, man set foot on Mars. He brought materials with which to build, tools with which to dig, a furnace to keep warm, fuel to burn, and food to eat. He walked, like most men, on his own two feet. He brought instruments with which to study, cereal to grow, and batteries to keep his various electric motors moving. He brought radio transmitters and television. He brought a suit, and a carpet. He brought drugs, soap, and water. Above all, and most of all, he brought with him air.
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.
"I'm sorry," I said. "It's the flight. I'm just very, very tired." I sat there staring at my food for a little while longer.
My stomach was something more than empty; I was ten times hungrier than I had been, but now I could not eat. I sat there staring at my food; Macy asked me what was wrong. I said nothing. He returned to his food, but, before taking his first bite, he said: "I suppose this is what it's like." I shot him a glance but then I dropped; I sighed heavily and brought my hand to my forehead.
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?
And we had a patron! a generous benefactor! whom we would pay for a gift of cold food in a plastic bag. O great man! We met you and greeted you on the campus! We paid you tribute in your atrium! In the early hours of the morning we saluted you! We thanked you for the gift of sportula: the gift of daily bread: the cold food we eagerly burned with butane: oh, how lustrously it burned! What a gentle, sparkling magic it was. And then how quietly we pursued oblivion...lying on those sofas, those hideously dirty sofas in that disgusting apartment.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 6, Doing Business, Paragraph 8
That is a very heavy price to pay, and I would never multiply the cost." When I finished, I was looking down at the table. Macy was apologetic: he said that he was sorry, that he didn't mean for that subject to come up; he was at fault, and so he apologized. There was a long silence; maybe Macy was waiting for me to forgive him. Instead, the food came, and thus we began to eat.
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.
When the embassy hosted functions for locals, the mayor would complain his beshbarmak had too much coriander. The Foreign Minister preferred shashlyki without eggplant. The woman from the US-AID office would insist that all foods containing horsemeat be kept on a separate table. "I don't care if it's in their culture," she explained. "If there's going to be a boiled sheep's head, I don't want to see it."
Tatum went back to the food court. Neal was gone. Tatum stopped herself from calling him. She didn't want to confront him over the phone. It would be ineffective. Tatum toyed with the keycard in her pocket. Shaq was dumb enough to leave it with her. He would pay the price. Tatum thought, "We'll see how he likes having his things ransacked."
Tatum watched the first quarter come to an end. She left her seat. She ventured into one of the restaurants in the gallery. She found an open stool at the edge of the balcony. A menu lay on the counter. It was full of food for Manga People: hot dogs, french fries, cucumbers pickled in brine. They liked things cylindrical. Tatum decided on the blue moon cheese squeeze. Her waitress said something in slurpee.
Within days, he was robbed of the little food he had brought with him. Stealing eggs and grapes along the way, he made it to the port of Bari and found work on the docks. Not finding his crusty, Venetian employer very agreeable, especially after breaking some porcelain, he stole a bag of old hyperpryons and headed toward Naples. Though the Byzantine coins would not be easily recognized in the countryside, Ferrari was confident he could sell them to a banker for at least a few ducats.
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.
"Food" 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.
After my mother died I went to visit her homeland. On my own. My father didn't want to do it. He was busy. I flew into the capital. I don't know how to spell the name. It sounds like a drunk guy slurring the word casino. It's appropriate. Not only did I drink a lot of booze but I took my chances with it. The same turned out to be true for the food.
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.
Look at all the people who get fat from fast food. You're not gonna put fast food out of business. It's not good for you but so what. As long as the customer knows it's not good. And who doesn't know that drugs and cigarettes are bad. Everybody knows that. They don't need me to tell them. But I'm getting off the subject.
I'm not here to defend our way of life. It is what it is. The money people pay us. Its a tax like any other. It's not my fault people have to pay two taxes. Complain to the other government.
Pfizer shuffled off to the cafeteria. "Nonsense," he thought. "Complete rubbish." For once he wasn't thinking about the food. His colleague Sara Lee came to cheer him up.
"Don't worry," Sara Lee said. "I'm sure your phosphane lions will be okay. There's nothing more important than life."
"Humanoid life," snorted Pfizer. "The only microbes the administrators care about are themselves."
The comment made Sara Lee giggle. "You're funny," she said. "You need to think about running for council. We'll never cut the defense budget if people like us don't speak out."
The older girls never came back. The witch kept the door locked and only opened it to bring food at breakfast and suppertime and to let strange men inside who told Grendel or one of the other girls that they wanted to play. Grendel didn't have fun playing with the men. They wanted to lie in bed and kiss. Sometimes it hurt.
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 food 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 "food." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
If a 45-year-old businesswoman and hard working mother of three kids is going to pose nude for a calendar, it's gonna have to be a good one. Margo didn't start a coffee shop called the Vagina Cafe to win her favors from the establishment. Even as she dishes out prizes to the 20 women who placed last in the twentienth anniversary run of her town's biggest road race, her business, unlike everyone else, doesn't get mentioned. She was an official sponsor for Christ's sake! But the announcer just couldn't swallow his patriarchy and get the words "Vagina Cafe" out of his mouth. That's not something a proper gentleman would say in front of a crowd of humble God-fearing "ladies" who cherish their modesty! And a Body Acceptance Calendar is certainly not what a humble God-fearing book-seller like a Barnes and Noble would put on their shelves! So how do I expect to sell this in the mainstream? Maybe if you download the free versions a thousand billion times it might help. Start downloading.
Help me keep the "Food" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting art...is he loony?
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.