Michal's meditating on the feasibility of extending his herculean Fiction Corpus with a treatise on nobel literature; cites fatigue
Posted:
I think highly of the practicality of utilizing English as a universal standard. I don't regard highly the unimaginative modus operandi by which the English tongue is presented for study.
Boosting one's familiarity with a language isn't like creating a more accurate catapult. A language - a spoken tongue - is not merely a tool that you can learn to employ with a greater amount of precision. A living tongue can not be uncoupled from the philosophical currents of a circle 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 pupil recite English is to deprive him of its cultural context. A good instructor has to develop a plan for introducing it; the perceptive pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe words based on a specific corpus, a body of writing of varying scope and consistency. This corpus might contain anything from a book about literature to some truly brilliant halloween stories. I watched many nights pass laboring on my "extraordinary" Fiction Corpus in order to form a special type 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 fashioned a million words and I have cut them down, reformulating them - not simply to teach the English language but to describe the human soul, and to prod that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
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 Place
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "what place."
Video of me pronouncing "what place."
Definition of What Place
The question what place is answered by a word that refers to the set of fuels or artifacts that can be influenced by an act. It is associated with the word where.
An index for what place
I have yet to index the section What Place.
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 #7101
lowes's back inside dodger stadium. hes gonna be alright. he got shot in the same place i got shot and im still alive.
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.
At first, we danced without touching. She avoided my hands and kept space between our bodies. We gyrated our hips and kicked our legs. Your mother enjoyed kicking her legs, as though she didn't want anyone to get very close to her. We swung our hands about and yanked our feet. We wigwagged, made signs to each other, and winked. We rolled our shoulders and twitched our heads. Finally, there was no escape: I took her hand and placed my arm around her waist. I led; she followed. I moved her to the rhythm of the dance. I let her spin. She stepped in between my legs, wrapped around them, and back. She felt the magic. I communicated. Speaking with movement, she responded. She felt the force of my hand: its presence; then, its absence. She understood its meaning. She yielded, then moved ahead. She stepped on my toes. We bumped into each other.
It was a gift from God: a challenge for enterprising men like your father. It was a grace granted Earth and Mars and in between. It was something unexceptional: commonplace and yet needing to be treasured. It was sorrowful and joyful. It was painful and painless - the joy of emancipation expected. It was happiness waiting to be unlocked - a beggar in bad straits. It was a noble man, a noble woman: nobility impoverished. It was rich, exceedingly wealthy and privileged - seated in front of me, it looked at me and blushed. It needed love. It needed to be raped: plucked from the ungrateful ground in which it found itself and replanted. It was a miracle we met. It was God's will. It was your mother, my child: your beautiful mother, Zoe Guderian, after whom you are named.
"Only momentarily," said Sapper. "Your grandmother had forgotten to put her daughter's Bible and rosary inside. They opened it just for that moment, so they could place the Bible and rosary inside her hands. Most people hadn't showed up yet."
"Well, not really misplaced," said Stalin. "They were exactly where they were supposed to be, but somebody forgot to fill out the appropriate form saying that they had been moved."
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.
Her left hand, the one that held Albert, the one that she had placed on top of her right, she now had on her thigh, almost next to mine, but farther down. She had lifted her bottom hand, letting her top hand slide down. Its thumb was now across my fingers. And she was now able to lift her other hand, the right one; pressing the fingers of that hand onto her left, she was able to lift the palm resting on my hand, letting it rub - just a little bit. And when her right palm was finished, her thumb, on her left hand: it was rubbing - just a little bit, imperceptibly - but for me: certainly, softly, surely. I let her keep rubbing for a long time. Then, I realized: I had to answer. So, when she lifted her palm, I lifted mine; we began rubbing simultaneously: she my hand, my hand her thigh. Then, people were applauding.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 6
I wanted to be holding Indiana's hand. I wanted my hand to be free: free to wipe away her wetness. My hand was being held. My fingers were not free. I was unsure: if I moved my hand, she might think I were trying to get loose; she might let me go. And then what? I couldn't grab her hand. I couldn't do that. So what should I do? Should I use my other hand? Should I place it on top of hers? Would that be alright? Is that what I want? Is that respectable? Or would I look foolish? What should I do?
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 4
Is there a good old-fashioned Irish pub around here?" Christie wasn't sure: "There are a few big ones I know about. But I don't think they're really Irish; I think they just say that." Macy said it didn't matter, but Christie continued: "There's a place called Filthy McNasty's; I don't think you want to go there. Besides, it's too far away; there's no underground station nearby. There's a really big place on the other side of Piccadilly; I don't remember its name. You know what? You should go to the Sports Café. That place is really big; not the best place, but a lot of Americans go there - that makes it almost Irish. I don't know what the food is like though; I don't suppose it's any good." Christie had to admit she couldn't really help us; we told her that we would fend for ourselves. The three of us continued walking northeast until Macy and I could no longer hold out, and, slipping into a local pub, we told Christie to break a leg.
BERT: Against my cousin. I remember now: we were with a group of our friends from the math club. Now back in those days in Hungary the math club was a very cool place to be - and largely because one of its members was a beautiful girl by the name of Luka. Now this girl was beautiful, and excruciatingly so, but she had terrible eyesight.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 8, Financial Instruments, Paragraph 18, Clauses 1-4
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.
"Don't tell me you would pay thousands of dollars to do it."
"You're right. You're supposed to hold it on your elbow. I would think it would be too heavy if you put all your things into it. It's not practical."
He went from grandmothers to hippies to the morbidly obese. Junior even stooped to buying prostitutes to see what he was missing. Tired of overpaying for cheap sex, he found himself a pair of oddly shaped female swingers. Suzy was large. Linda was small. One was all flesh; the other, just bone.
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.
MS. JACKSON: He's in there-
FLETCHER: How did my father know?
MS. JACKSON: Your father is in there-
FLETCHER: Why are you telling strangers how I lost my virginity?
LESBIAN: I'm not a stranger; I'm a guest.
MS. JACKSON: Everybody knows about it.
FLETCHER: What kind of a place is this?
LESBIAN: It's your home.
MS. JACKSON: Listen.
LESBIAN: If I could, I would gladly make it mine.
– ACT I, lines 993-1002
MS. JACKSON: If he came to me repentant of his sins - I mean all of them - I would forgive him. I would consider allowing him to return to this house. Do you think I don't want him? I want him more than you could ever know. I want him in a way that, unfortunately, I have never had him. I won't settle for less than I deserve. That's all I'm going to say on the subject. It upsets me. Your father has behaved strangely in the past; as of late, his actions have been frightening me. Maybe it is the climate around here - I'm not going to take any chances. (to KOKOMO) I want you to watch out for him, in case he should try to violate you.
FLETCHER: That is unwarranted.
MS. JACKSON: It may have taken a hundred and fifty years for another murder to occur, but we are not immune to rape. We need only bear witness to what took place on Pitcairn in recent times. Six men were found guilty of sexual offenses. That's almost the entire adult male population over there. I'm not going to let that happen around here - not while I'm alive. Do you understand? As soon as you're done with this mess, Kokomo, I would like these towels to go to the laundry. We have all of Lesbian's things to wash.
KOKOMO: I have a question, ma'am.
MS. JACKSON: Yes?
KOKOMO: Will our guest from New Zealand be staying with us for considerably longer than planned? If that's the case, I'm going to have to make a new schedule.
MS. JACKSON: I don't know, dear. I don't think so, but, then again, you can never be sure, can you? Just stick to the current schedule for now. I'm sorry if you've been overworked.
KOKOMO: That is not my concern at all.
MS. JACKSON: I just want Homo to feel as welcome as possible. Thank you for your continued cooperation. Excuse me.
– ACT I, lines 1323-1332
FLETCHER: There is a house on Norfolk that no longer stands. Its eaves of pine were reduced to ash. Its worthy frame that I helped build collapsed in a huge fury of smoke and fire that I helped start. I watched it burning from the top of Mount Pitt. I was too ashamed to go any closer. I was there in the room the night my father planned that terrible justice with his friends. I heard them goading each other into teaching their fellow man not to cooperate with the Australian government. It was madness I heard from their lips. They were the drunken lips of dogs waiting to pounce. I said nothing. I did nothing to stop them. When the police came, I lied and said I knew nothing. I climbed Mount Pitt out of morbid curiosity to see what I had wrought. That image of the house whose beams I placed - whose trusses I tied - in the distance - engulfed in flames - is seared upon my mind. I did nothing to stop it. Do you know how sorry I am? If I told you that somebody died in that fire, would it be in your power to forgive me?
– ACT II, line 183
LUKE: At his place.
FLETCHER: Today?
FLETCHER: After Kokomo left.
FLETCHER: What was she doing there?
LUKE: The two of them were yabberin'. That's why we didn't get to drink much.
FLETCHER: What were they saying?
LUKE: I don't know.
FLETCHER: What did it look like?
LUKE: It looked like something shonky was goin' down. At first, Kokomo was ropeable. I thought old Grey Goose was gonna cark it. After she calmed down, she looked perfectly dismal, like she had been sprung in the act. Your old man leaned in to whisper. She kept turnin' her head to either side. She got cranky and left. That's when I asked him - by way of a mug: "What's with the girl piker?" - why didn't she stay for a drink? That's when he told me.
– ACT I, lines 757-765
ALICE: You don't have to know your neighbors. It's the city without the smog or the noise. They've been magically replaced by mountains and beaches.
FLETCHER: If only you could work here as an actress. Unfortunately, I don't think our theatre is quite worthy of you.
ALICE: They don't do much Shakespeare.
FLETCHER: Do you like performing on stage?
ALICE: I enjoy it. It's only a job: like carpentry or farming.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
We were in Austria. It was Christmas Eve. Olympia was in her baby bouncer. She was by the fireplace. She was having a great time. We were caressing her. I remember. It was Grandmother's house.
I knew my sister was in love with one of them. So what? It didn't change anything. It didn't change our fate. We had the future of a population on our heads. You can't walk away from that. We had to fight to the death. Like it or not. Right up on that hill. In the middle of the cemetary. It seemed like the right place to do it. I think it was my brother's idea. Not Gaio. The middle one. Lucio. Like I said we didn't know who was the oldest or who was the youngest. But I always teased Gaio for being the romantic one. It made him the youngest. In my eyes.
Indiana gave us an embarrassed look. I smiled. I watched her slip the stick back into the bucket. Grandmother stretched out her hand. As usual, she was carrying a rag.
Indiana took it. She wiped the drops of water she spilled. She turned her head. "What did I do?" she asked. We chuckled.
Mother explained the custom of keeping a cherry branch next to the fireplace. If it bloomed on Christmas Eve, it would bring good luck.
"I guess it helps to know how long a branch takes to bloom," said Indiana.
One day the hair was gone. It was replaced by two hairs. Then three. Before long there were too many hairs to count. Grendel went to her grandmother but her grandmother was dead. The man at the funeral said something about the Chinook. Grendel was sure she would be next.
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.
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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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