Michal declines to study the potency of enhancing his run-of-the-mill Fiction Corpus with a fairy tale about reading bedtime stories online; cites fatigue
Posted:
I trust in the idea of enacting English as a worldwide standard. I don't regard highly the tepid scheme by which the English language is taught.
Strengthening one's proficiency with a language isn't like launching a stronger oar. A language - a living tongue - is not merely an instrument that you can teach yourself to utilize with greater amounts of precision. A shared tongue can not be decoupled from the shared logic 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 a student to recite English is to deprive her of its cultural context. A proper teacher must have a strategy for introducing it; the insightful pupil ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will define a language on the basis of a particular corpus, a set of written language of various scope and consistency. Such a corpus could contain anything from a book about literature to some prose fiction. I watched many nights pass creating my "prodigious" Fiction Corpus in order to form a precise class 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 pieced together a million words and I have reduced them, reshaping them - not just to teach the English tongue but to be an advocate for the human spirit, and to coax 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.
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.
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 Bread
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 bread in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word bread, 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 bread is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Bread
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word bread.
Video of me pronouncing "bread."
Definition of Bread
The word bread is fetishized to mean something that poor people need to put on their tables if not in their pockets, regardless of whether they actually eat it. Otherwise it refers to a precious fuel that sustains communities or to a worthy artifact that a lot of people try to bake for themselves with varying degrees of success.
Common use of bread in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word bread.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word bread.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word bread.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Bread 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 bread.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Bread."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word breadand 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 bread, 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 #5426
im near the library. theres some kind of bread line in front of the supermarket. and the breads being guarded by people with guns.
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.
Some people gave themselves problems. Alcohol was the chief method. For many people, alcoholism was only a symptom. For others, it was what could only be described as a strange and tragically unnecessary life choice. In Treblinka, there was a couple nicknamed the model marriage. Every afternoon, they were seen stumbling hand in hand with wide smiles on their faces. They were drunk, having spent the entire morning walking around town, asking for spare change. "Thirty cents," the woman begged. "That's all I need: for bread." Meanwhile, the man always went to the soup kitchen at the convent. "And one for my wife," he would say, smiling. Then, he would take the soup outside and sell it to some slightly richer man for loose change. Afterwards, the woman went. "One for my husband, too," she would say, smiling. Then, she would sell some slightly richer woman some soup. After a while, the nuns got wise. They began insisting on eating in: no take-out. The model marriage moved elsewhere, having lost their primary source of income.
"Now, in those days, people still went to the altar rail and kneeled to receive Communion. This process, though quaint, was always a grand rush among the old people to get there first, probably so they wouldn't have to walk alone on the way back - they were so afraid of being judged. Those people poked each other with their elbows, pushed ahead, and nearly trampled the hunchbacked. The first time I saw it, when I was thirteen years old, I thought the elderly went first for the sake of courtesy. I was waiting for the young people to go up; they never did. I missed Communion. Not even the middle-aged went. They were sinners. If they hadn't been to confession in - let's say - the past two weeks, they weren't supposed to take Communion. That's how well trained they were. Maybe the priests couldn't afford the bread.
My grandmother told her own story: "We were eleven years old, my sister and I. We were traveling with other children: some younger, some older. We were - all of us - very hungry. One day, we found this old woman living on her own - actually, some young boys told us about her. They said, 'This woman has a chamber with bread and cheese. Go to her house and ask for bread. Meanwhile, we'll go and steal the food.' So we went to the woman. We told her how hungry we were; we asked for bread. She was very kind: she gave us soup - very good soup - and bread. We left very grateful for the woman's kindness, and felt sorry, since we knew that the boys had robbed her. They took half a round of cheese - white cheese: it was very good. They took all of her bread; we ate everything she had. A few days later, while passing through some other village, one of the girls with us died of typhus. During the funeral, we went to confess, but all of us kept going to the back of the line - we were scared, since the girl had died. Finally, the priest took notice, and, leading us to the sacristy, said, 'Why do you children keep going to the back?' We answered, 'Forgive us, Father, for we have sinned.' He was very surprised. 'We all share the same grave sin,' we said. 'We were hungry, and we robbed a woman of her food.' The priest said: 'You have not sinned: you did not take her food out of spite or for pleasure, but because you were hungry.' And he blessed us that very same day, the whole gang, right there in the sacristy."
"It was my husband's fault," she continued. "He let your father do what he did. I never agreed to it. I don't care what principle you cite; life is more important. Money can rot in hell. My daughter didn't need martyrdom; she needed fresh air! That's why we moved here in the first place - not that it helped. Your father took advantage of that. What a louse! My husband, too! He called himself a poet. He was a baker by trade! His words were always half-baked, like his bread. He lied! (God rest his soul.) When I was next to him, I was 'beloved.' When he was gone, selling his bread, it was somebody else who was sweeter than wine, sweeter than roses, sweeter than his own goddamn urine! Lousy diabetic. I was only there to rub his feet, put cream on his puffed-up anus. He went to orgies! Down the street! At his great friend, Trojanowski's house: he was eighty years old! He was hosting orgies!"
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.
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
ANDY: There are so many fat people around - and it's disgusting. But what am I supposed to say? Hey, stop being fat? Obviously it's very hard for these people to control themselves. And all I can do is pray that somehow they start gaining some continence. But: is there any reason why we should have to tolerate obesity?
NIKE: Not at all. If we were really serious about the problem, we would make obesity illegal, and throw all the fat people in jail so we could feed them bread and water.
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.
In confinement, he was fed nothing more than bread and water. Told he would get nothing more until he confessed, Ferrari succumbed. He admitted to the robbery, to the broken porcelain, and to the fact that he had seen his stepmother naked-though he neglected to mention his resentment, his feelings of entitlement, and, of course, his continued desire to dispossess his father of his wife.
They stopped in front of a concrete building. It was the only concrete in sight. The other side of the road hosted two wattle and daub huts. They were restaurants. One had a special on bread; the other, soup. Clark huffed. "They look like muddy shoe-boxes."
"When you were a child," said Shephard, "did you ever bring home bugs from the yard? This is what it was like for them."
"Girl," she replied, sighing. "I tried to wean her off months ago. For some reason, I'm still full." She patted her teat. Ferrari fought the urge to volunteer his help.
He munched on his bread. He asked, "Where is she?"
"Inside." She gestured toward the hall. "With your brother."
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.
ACT II
SETTING:Same.
AT RISE:Same.
KOKOMO: Clean. Clean. Clean. That's all I do around here. I'm supposed to be the cook. I didn't think I'd have to be the maid and the launderer and the nanny, too. Whoever said Polynesians are like children didn't know the English. They say the streets of London are paved with vomit. Nowhere is it worse than there. That's a kingdom full of stupid, dishwasher-buying buffoons. If I didn't know any better, I would say it's an island thing. Upolu is nothing like this. We have peace and quiet. I wish I could be there now: swimming in Fagaloa Bay, climbing Mount Fao, running my feet through white sand, growing breadfruit and pawpaw. If only I weren't alone in those dreams.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
"Bread" does not make an appearance in Miscellaneous Dingbats
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 bread 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 "bread." 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 "Bread" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting art...is he nuts?
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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