Michal refuses to weigh the notion of enlarging his trifling Fiction Corpus with a few decent science fiction stories; cites fatigue
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I trust in the feasibility of harnessing English as a global standard. I don't regard highly the enervatingly inanimate model by which English is taught.
Improving a person's finesse for a language isn't like creating a safer parachute. A language - a spoken tongue - is not merely a tool that you can teach yourself to exploit with greater amounts of precision. A shared tongue can not be dissociated from the competing values of a tribe 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 person recite English is to strip her of its cultural context. A proper instructor must create a strategy for introducing it; the wisest pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe words on the basis of a specific corpus, a set of writing of varying scope and consistency. A corpus might contain everything from a book about literature to a bunch of fantasy fiction. I created my "mammoth" Fiction Corpus in order to form a different sort 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 sculpted a million words and I have catalogued them, reshaping them - not merely to teach the English tongue but to promote the human spirit, and to provoke that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
A Better Way to Define English: Grouped into Eight Types of Words
Type 3 Answers the Question, "What?"
The 8 types of words can be associated with the days of the week in the Acceptance calendar. Tuesday, or Family Day, or Prayers Day respresents the "What"
The way to understand a language is to categorize its elements. Each word belongs in a box and there only so many boxes.
You only need eight boxes or eight categories of words to understand English. At the highest level, you have what-words and who-words, how-words and why-words, where-words and when-words, whose-words and which-words.
What-words can be further categorized into the same eight boxes. Artifacts are the what-what-words. Persons and people are the who-what-words. Fuels are the how-what-words. Fetishes are the why-what-words. Places and times, the where and when-what-words respectively. Acts are whose-what-words and Kinds are the which-what-words.
These linguistic categories relate to the seven categories of culture, which in turn I organize according to day of the week.
Just as Sunday can both start the week and end the week, Sunday or Victory Day (a day for artists) is related to both which-words and whose-words, or kinds and acts.
Monday or Labor Day (a day for capitalism) represents the how, or a fuel.
Tuesday or Family Day or Prayers Day (a day for love) represents the what, an artifact.
Wednesday or Assembly Day or Constitution Day (a day for law and order) represents the where, or place.
Thursday or Greenery or Science or Earth Day (a day to study movement) represents the when, or time.
Friday or Children's Day (a day to educate) represents the the who, or people.
Saturday or Armed Forces of Democracy Day (a day for hope and strength) represents the why, or fetishes.
Pronunciation of What
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word what.
Video of me pronouncing "what."
Definition of What
The word what is a prime word that is used to both ask and answer questions concerning artifacts.
The essence of confusion. -Melanie S.
An index for what
I have yet to index the section What.
Samples of Fiction from Michal's 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.
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 #917
reddit is used to strip clubs. she knew exactly what to order. and i dont mean a lap dance. or the hot wings. i mean a table with a view.
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.
"'She's a domestic,' I said. He laughed his head off. 'That's right, boy: they cook and clean and take out your garbage and you'll find out the rest when you're older.' He started walking away laughing. 'Wait!' I yelled. 'What about the story?'
Heavy and colorful make-up was popular. Men wore make-up - not nearly as much as women, and especially young girls, but they wore it. Hair dyes were somewhat less popular; they were colorful, but more restrained. Men were clean-shaved. Women wore long hair and dressed it.
Go to the city and go crazy - that's what the Man says. It's true: you lose your mind. You start thinking differently. You start voting for different parties - usually the ones that offer the most benefits.
If your father had known that, he might have had his lieutenants wait: they were his only family, and, despite their self-respect, they were definitely not Capitalists - but neither was your father, for that matter - or at least, he didn't feel like one. In real terms, he was very much a Capitalist, a recent Capitalist; but no matter how recent one's fortune, if there was a fortune, there was a Capitalist. New Capitalists were not made all the time - in fact, for the established Capitalist, the only thing more exciting than new capital was a new Capitalist. You never knew what to expect. He or she might destroy you; he or she might make you very rich: he or she might make you a Supercapitalist. Then you would thank him or her. But if he or she destroyed you, then you might just commit murder. And the penalty for killing a Capitalist was death. The penalty for killing a Supercapitalist was bankruptcy and death. It was known to happen quite often, even among Capitalists.
The women of Earth in those days were hysterical for hand-tinted photographs: they collected them like mad. Your maternal grandmother, Tomiko Panzer-Tank (your grandfather's second wife), who was Japanese, had the greatest collection of Japanese hand-tinted photographs in the world; her photochromes were also very impressive, but these were somewhat less highly regarded. Color prints were nice, but original hand-colored photographs were gold; daguerreotypes and calotypes were priceless - absolutely priceless - if they were painted, of course. If they weren't painted, they were merely interesting.
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.
It started innocently enough: I was living in that townhouse on Prospect Street, right at that point in the road where, after sloping its way down for blocks, it curls upward for a while before leveling off. My kitchen provided an excellent view of this dip, and during my residency I was able to spot many unsuspecting acquaintances as they were in the process of crossing the intersection there. It was after dark one night when I spotted Macy in the light of the streetlamp. I called him over. After exchanging greetings, he asked whether I had enjoyed last night's party. I said yes, "what a wonderful way to celebrate the end of the production; we had such an excellent cast." He agreed and pointed out the virtues of several cast members - until finally, it was necessary to interrupt. "Macy," I said, "you're getting cold. Come inside and have a drink."
When Nike was not around, he was not there to balance things, or to talk about theatre for that matter, which is what he would always do, and which Macy would rarely mention on his own, probably for being sick of it. However that was one of the few topics I felt comfortable enquiring about, and though Macy and I were able, gradually, to wean ourselves away from Nike, we relied at first on our experience in Austria. But because of the nature of that experience, and also my failings as a conversationalist, this made matters a bit more lopsided than I desired.
As for Indiana, remember that these feelings are not completely subconscious, though the bulk of them may indeed permeate the fabric of her thinking. And don't forget Albert. I have no idea what he is feeling, although I can imagine the kind of stress that can come from having to deal with a woman like Indiana everyday. She is not the only person under pressure, and as much as I would like to believe that they cause themselves more stress than any outside force, I don't think that's necessarily true. Thankfully, we are not subject to so many unkind forces. I am grateful for that; and I'm sympathetic: they are good people and I like them, warts and all.
– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 5, Warts, Paragraph 4
Perhaps I was to blame; my memory does give me the impression that, after a certain point, it was I who habitually engaged Macy with my own dissertation. But that is trivial; if he had so desired he could have changed the course of conversation whenever he wanted. I do recall one time when I seemed to be boring him; I remember asking if I were boring but I don't remember what he said.
As charming as it must seem now, I have to confess I was not in the best mood to accommodate Macy's excitement over having recognized me. Truth be told, I could hardly remember in what context we had met on campus, and his efforts to describe this or that party were not proving fruitful. But of course he was handsome, and exceedingly charming. In fact, I made a remark to my companion some time later that week, complimenting Macy's amazing control over his own face, and after I explained to her that I meant his ability to draw on a multitude of expressions, each very appropriate, and sometimes quite telling for a given circumstance, she had to agree completely.
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.
"She was dressed like a nun?"
"A veil and a-what's it? A wimple: she was wearing a wimple."
Luka's hands were the only thing holding up Nike's head. He pried apart his friend's eyelids. "If I take you to an ATM, can you get me the money? Just nod." He let go. The head collapsed onto Nike's shoulder. Luka lifted it up. He let go again. Again the head collapsed.
"It's your schlong in somebody else's donut hole. That's what counts. I'm telling you. These girls are the best. AJ, BJ-you think it doesn't mean something to a guy who has to pay? Whoa. Here we are. Look at this. What a crowd. There's a lot of people here. Did you see that? Oh, boy!"
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.
LESBIAN: A puritan.
ALICE: Straight-laced.
FLETCHER: A prude.
MS. JACKSON: That's exaggerating it a bit, wouldn't you say?
FLETCHER: Nevertheless, I didn't want old man Menzies thinking I was rooting his daughter-in-law. I certainly wasn't going to admit in open court that a pair of seven-year-old boys could shake me down.
ALICE: I was mugged once.
FLETCHER: What happened?
LESBIAN: Were you hurt?
ALICE: Not physically.
MS. JACKSON: You were threatened.
– ACT I, lines 137-146
FLETCHER: I'm glad you liked it.
LESBIAN: We happened to see your father looking down on us the whole time from a cliff.
FLETCHER: What do you mean?
LESBIAN: He was staring at us the entire morning from a cliff. I thought he was going to jump.
FLETCHER: He was just standing there?
LESBIAN: He was just standing there.
LUKE: I went up to him. He was only watching us bathe.
ALICE: I hope he liked it.
FLETCHER: Don't mind him. My father's a bit crazy. One time, I woke up in the middle of the night. It was about three in the morning. I saw him standing in front of a pine tree, trying to decide whether or not he should chop it down. This was three in the morning. There was absolutely no reason for him to chop it down. It was really quite bizarre.
– ACT I, lines 55-63
LUKE: Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Winna tee, winna tee.
Tee tee ta.
FLETCHER: What the devil was that?
LESBIAN: It's a haka dance developed by the Maori people of New Zealand. I didn't know Aussies could appreciate it.
LUKE: It's me old school chant - thanks to the junior rugby union.
GREY GOOSE: Your husband's been teaching it to me.
ALICE: That's what you do together. I thought you drank.
GREY GOOSE: Actually, I just challenged him to a drinking contest. He accepted.
– ACT I, lines 372-381
LUKE: What's the difference between the two?
MS. JACKSON: Bounty families are descendant from the original Bounty mutineers, who settled on Pitcairn Island-
FLETCHER: With their Tahitian consorts. I'm sorry. I meant their Tahitian wives. And their Tahitian slaves. I mean, their male Tahitian friends.
MS. JACKSON: The Pitcairner families are descendant-
FLETCHER: From three adventurers - to be more precise, from two ack-willy whalers and a soldier-of-fortune.
LUKE: That's a ridgy-didge pedigree. Too right!
FLETCHER: It gets better. Being a direct descendant of my namesake, Fletcher Christian, the illustrious chief of the mutiny on the Bounty, I am therefore descendant from the ancient rulers of the Isle of Man.
LUKE: A reg'lar Pommy!
FLETCHER: My father's mother was a Quintal. That means half of him is descendant from a drunken scoundrel who set his ship on fire, drove his wife to suicide, and threatened to kill the entire island population. That's not the side of the story we like to tell. We prefer the story of how John Jackson turned to Christianity and taught his children to read and write. Jackson, I'll have you know, was a Christian before he became a Jackson. He changed his name the moment the British rediscovered the island. My mother admires his cowardice so much, she did the same thing.
– ACT I, lines 93-101
KOKOMO: Of course I have.
FLETCHER: Mother's been spending way too much quality time with her lodger.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
I don't know who to thank for my fate. I know God has a lot to do with it. As does Putin. And my own imagination. And the many friends of mine at university. And Barack. And Obama. And Khalifa.
The Education Ministry was offering me a job. It was a teaching position at a village school. It was the only school for a large area. Children from many villages went there. Only one teacher taught there and he had literally drunk himself to death a week before. The Ministry was in a hurry to fill the position. Absolutely nobody was interested. I only had one question. I asked if the village was far from Moscow. The man behind the desk nodded his head. I accepted.
Steve O attended the wedding. He fidgeted throughout the entire thing. Until the minister asked the congregation to speak if there was any objection. Or to forever hold their peace. Steve O closed his eyes. He stepped into the aisle and said, "I have an objection."
The minister was shocked. After a moment of silence he asked, "What is your objection?"
The day was bright when I left Moscow. I was in such a cheerful mood I had to stop myself from smiling. People were always telling me always to smile. People who never smile themselves. As if there's nothing wrong with a black man who's smiling. A black man who's always smiling looks like a fool like anybody else. I was foolish enough just doing what I was doing. I had to keep my face quiet. The entire bus ride I stared at my reflection in the window. I wanted to look confident without seeming too proud.
What's going on in China is nothing new. The world has always been a machine. A giant pendulum clock. Time ticks. Fortunes rise on one side. Fall on the other. People at the bottom get crushed. China's just bigger. More obvious.
Life is a spinning sphere with Joy at one pole and Sadness at the other. Each continuously feeding its pair. Joy flanked by the emotions of Trust on one side, Surprise on the other. Trust leading to Anticipation; anticipation leading to Fear. Surprise leading to Disgust; disgust leading to Anger. Anger and Fear fueling our Sadness. Sadness giving way, in time, to Joy; through Hope, an orientation towards Love. Love, an openness towards Joy, Trust and Surprise; the sum of emotion; emotion amplified by others. Multiplied and divided, in equal parts. Such that to those from whom it has been subtracted, we must add. Until we are whole.
Help me maintain the "What" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting art...is he cracked?
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.