Help Treat Sociopathy With Art

Strength and dignity are her clothing...

Proverbs 31:25

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.

From America I brought with me the American can-do spirit. She saw the car that I had bought, the terrible camp stove I had borrowed, and my sundry canned goods and challenged me to make-do. In my optimism I assured her that if we lacked for anything I would make up the difference. She assured me that if she lacked for anything she would find her way to the nearest airport and fly home. Luckily that never happened.

Margo and I spent over 40 days on the road. We started out as basically strangers, but in those 40 days we started listening to each other. We started teaching ourselves how to cooperate. Our journey across Europe may have ended, but our journey towards each other continues. No amount of fear, anger, sadness, disgust or anticipation can stop hope. Slowly but surely, we're learning how to beat the devils that abuse us.

One of Margo's pictures from our trip across Europe. — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day +1**
9/4/2011
⚔ 16༜♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
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.

Previous Image — 6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
**Day +1**
9/4/2011
⚔ 16༜♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Sauna Cezar
Bielsko-Biała, Poland
THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...
a collection of modern art prints and posters
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.

Pronunciation of World Literature

I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "world literature."

Video of me pronouncing "world literature."

Definition of World Literature

I have yet to publish the definition of World Literature.

I'm sure it won't take too long.

An index for world literature

I have yet to index the section World Literature

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.

If you're wondering...

How do I use this?

Just click on a title to see examples of "literature" from a particular work. You'll stay on the same spot on the page, only the Table of Contents will disappear. To get back to the Table of Contents just click next to the image of the Bare Bottom imprint where it says "Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents."“And...?”

In the case of common words, a Table of Frequency and a Table of Collocation provide numerical information about how many times a word appears in its original or modified form and with which words. It can help to give you an idea of how common words are used and in what contexts. Find them in the "Common Words of English" part of the Education section.“Ok.”

Why a Fiction Corpus?

The popular understanding of the word "fiction" and its complement "non-fiction" is a reflection of the cultural influence of a classification system. The Dewey Decimal System is responsible for separating "fiction" from all other work and categorizing it by author's name. This has influenced the popular idea of fiction as a narrative that tends to be "untrue" and the product of an individual's fantasy, a bias compounded by modern art's century-long obsession with abstraction, surrealism and self-expression.“So...?”

My idea of fiction rests on the idea that art doesn't have to be factual to be a true reflection of our existence. Adam and Eve didn't have to exist as two individuals 700 generations ago for them to be true portraits of two human beings trying to work together.“And...?”

The Bible is a Fiction Corpus. It is a body of writing that isn't overly concerned with facts and yet its words carry weight. It was written by many different authors living in different places with different audiences in mind, yet everyone gleans something from it.“Right...”

In preparing my fiction corpus, I have striven to see the world through the eyes of others. Through the eyes of my Adams and Eves I hope that you too will glean some truth about our existence. At the very least you will learn some more about how one man can use the English language.“Ok.”

Who are you, Michal?

I'm just a guy who makes art. And if you're interested in making a solid investment in an aesthetic that supports our present and future welfare, then I will help you look for something that you can buy.“How...?”

Everybody makes. Everybody sells. Some people know how to protect their interests. Some better than others. Few people know how to listen. Listening to somebody means considering their interests as if they were your own. Going out and doing something to satisfy another person's interest is how we build a strong economy. Without a strong economy, democracy collapses.“And...?”

Buying 4Occupy is buying for democracy. Don't give your money to somebody who's ruining it. There's no such thing as cheap democracy, quick democracy, or easy democracy. There's good, solid, complete democracy and the tyranny of feudalism. Let's not mix the two. Let's not buy everything on the cheap. Let's not create another tyrant and enslave ourselves because it was easier not to think about what we were doing. Let's protect our interests. Let's listen.“Ok.”

Who's really behind this site?

Have you ever been to one of those post-it-yourself retail websites where there's a really attractive top-seller ready to give you tips on how you can be a top-seller too?“Uh...”

Have you ever been to a "job" interview where you sit in a line, walk through one door, get hired as a contractor and walk out another door, so that the other applicants don't realize that everyone's getting "hired" to work in the same market?“Maybe...”

The internet is full of people who are ready to exploit your ignorance. They are people who want to make money at the expense of our economy. They are cheats.“And...?”

I, Michal, am behind this site. Not some fat plutocrat exploiting my image. I like to do things the right way. I like to work with people who take the time to do things right.“Why...?”

I used to work for a company that didn't do things the right way. My labor was exploited because of mismanagement. That company was the United States Postal Service, an independent agency of the United States Government that is ultimately controlled by Congress. I'm mad because if the Federal Government can exploit labor, who is going to stop every other cheat from doing it?“Labor Unions...?”

Don't say labor unions. I went to my labor union and they did nothing. They ignored me because labor unions aren't democracies. Holding a free and fair election for a "representative" once in a blue moon does not equal people ruling. Democracy means open government. It means we the public need to accept the hard work. It's the only way to secure liberty and equality.“Ok.”

What's the difference between use and usage?

Definition-wise, not much. But the -age suffix is ultimately French in origin and with most things French, at least in American eyes, the immediate thought is that of something precious and arcane whose value should be judged very carefully. This is in contrast to the word France, which is associated with a beautiful place. Thus people in France or from France are beautiful, warm, kind people. Generous even. Unlike French people who suck. Unless you're frenching, in which case you're only sometimes sucking.“And...?”

Along those lines, usage means you're in bed. Use means you're just heavy petting. Also notice that common people, like common words, get used...whereas "proper" things make "appearances." Whether or not you are being exploited is a different story. Exploitation is what happens when somebody uses you or your property without listening to you. Listening is what happens when you consider another person's needs as if they were your own. You don't have to satisfy those needs. All you need to do is consider them. So many of us can't even do that.“So...?”

Help stop exploitation. Buy 4occupy. Buy a better world. Whether or not you feel you can afford to buy art, consider joining my protest. I want to guarantee every working man and every working mother on this planet a 15-day universal holiday. But I can't. Only we can do that. We have to work together. We have to accept the idea that everyone deserves time for himself and we need to build that time into a new kind of calendar. We have to give peace it's own day. We have to make love something you can't avoid. We have to make even the most miserly cold-hearted capitalist among us say that he cashed his check on Love Your Neighbor Day. There won't be any other way to say it once the Acceptance Calendar is widely adopted.“Ok.”

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from Death to McDonalds

An aerial view of Dodger Stadium in the foreground, with an imaginary partially submerged Los Angeles behind — 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 #690

merill lynch even has tats on his ass. the president on his left buttcheek facing right. lenin on his right cheek facing left. theyre kissing.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

3 August, 11:37 AM

Frame #129

barry gave me the number for one of his goons. reddit boyer. hes supposedly the guy in charge.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

27 July, 2:10 PM

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from The Gospel of Jesus H.

A picture of the planet Mars — 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.

What an asshole, I thought. Was he even aware of himself? So his ancestors imported game to Mars - so what? Grande cuisine: what Polack would make this for him? Why do our best chefs look outside our borders, or in books of foreign history? Don't they know that our cuisine is peasant cuisine? It favors the bold, not the delicate; the simple, not the rich. It finds what is common, not esoteric. It has its own subtle flavors which must be exploited, not abandoned. Like chicken broth: why did we abandon our Sunday broth? Once upon a time, it wasn't Sunday if chicken broth were not served for dinner. And why did we abandon it? For what? For leisure? For the sake of time? Or taste? Is it possible we actually prefer the taste of manufactured products? Like instant soup? Soup in a can? Or did that come later? Did we forget the taste of a boiling chicken's juice? Did we become estranged from our domestic traditions? Or did we choose to abandon them? Were we ashamed of chicken broth? Or disgusted? But why? when a woman like Catherine de Médicis takes it out of her ice-box and calls it aspic. Why were the French so enamored of it? Did they lack chickens or ice?

– Verse 70 from the chapter called Childhood

Oh, you are so confused. I love you, child. I carried you in my arms across the deserts of Mars. I love you so very much, but you don't know me! You don't remember me! How can you love me? Listen to your mother, my child. She is dead, but if you listen to her beautiful words - if you pay attention - you will come to know me, child. You will love me. Deep in my heart, I know you will trust me - just like your mother.

– Verse 17 from the chapter called Invocation

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from Sex for Children

A drawing of a man between a woman's legs in front of another man in a hospital bed — 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.

Sometimes I felt I was the only person he was really mocking. As long as he neglected me, of course he was not mine; he was unwilling to amuse me alone and this was the seed of my jealousy. When his stories would offer a sober judgment, breaking the spell of amusement, I would not distinguish his honesty, the proof that he was never simply pandering to taste, that he was perfectly aware of the things he was doing, the effect he had, the minds he swayed.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 5, Falling in Love, Paragraph 5, Clauses 1-3

The vacuum, which actually worked - thank God - was beating the hell out of the shaggy rug, shooting clouds of dust into the room - literally - there was simply too much to suck at any one given place or time.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 2, Letting It Steam, Paragraph 1, Clauses 4-5

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga

Bullets whizzing by a statue of Nikola Tesla — 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!" She stopped again. Silence. Nike squinted. "Where are you going?"

She thought about it. She said, "I'm." She looked off into the distance. She stared vacantly. She didn't seem to find an answer. She turned back. She whispered, "I don't know."

Nike smiled. "You said you were told to come."

She ran.

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story set in a forest in Paris where prostitutes gather

"If he wants to stop, he should pull over."

"He's afraid of getting swamped. It's a buyer's market out here."

"I've never seen so much ass."

"This is incredible. Did you see that?"

"Not bad."

"That was a dude."

"You're joking."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story set in a forest in Paris where prostitutes gather

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from Sorry Ms. Jackson

Chiseled letters from an ancient stone tablet hanging on a wall — 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: I was in Goroka - in the highlands of New Guinea - in September, I believe - for the cultural show. There I saw the Mudmen.

MS. JACKSON: Who are the Mudmen?

LESBIAN: The Mudmen make these clay masks - some big, some small -all of them hideously grotesque with giant noses and sharp, pointy teeth.

MS. JACKSON: They dance around with these masks?

LESBIAN: With mud caked over their entire bodies: from neck to toe.

ALICE: Are they naked?

LESBIAN: Of course not: they're wearing masks. In Rabaul - on the island of New Britain - I saw the famous Baining fire dance. There they wear masks that are made from bamboo, which they cover with tapa, a kind of bark cloth. That makes these masks very light. Naturally, they're even bigger.

MS. JACKSON: How big?

LESBIAN: Humongous: thirty to forty feet.

ALICE: No way!

– ACT I, lines 414-423

ALICE: It was no big deal. It was some stupid kid with a knife.

FLETCHER: Was it sharp?

LUKE: She didn't have a chance to taste it.

FLETCHER: What did it look like?

ALICE: It was just a regular jackknife. It wasn't very big.

FLETCHER: What did he get away with?

ALICE: My purse.

LUKE: With everything in it.

ALICE: It was so stupid. The cops could've picked him up around the corner if they had just bothered to look. They were such pigs.

FLETCHER: Don't tell that to old Grey Goose! Australian cops guilty of misprision? He would go on a rampage.

– ACT I, lines 157-166

Back to Samples of Literature: Table of Contents

Samples of Literature from Miscellaneous Dingbats

The title of the book at the end of a string of miscellaneous dingbats — 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 learned later that the headman of the village had asked that I be replaced. He had claimed to the Ministry that I was crazy. That I talked to myself. That all the parents in the village were afraid to leave their children with me. I proved him wrong. If not for Putin and my three pupils, I would've been packing my bags for Moscow that very weekend. I would have lived in the village for all of two weeks instead of almost twenty years. I would never have stayed to teach a community of children how to grow up. I would never have married a local Russian girl. I would never have become the village headman. I would never have run for mayor.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that represents something true, though the details are not factual

The beautiful Branca was the first child born to Sir Lima. The first of ten. I'm sure she was and remains his pride and joy. I wouldn't know. I've never met the man. Or Branca. Everything I know about her and her family comes from the boy who lived down the street from them. The boy who grew up to be a priest. A professor. The boy who to this day at the sheer mention of the name Branca leans back his head, inserts hand into shirt and begins violently pumping the fabric as if pistons were about to explode through his chest. I wish he wouldn't do it. If he tears a hole in his shirt I won't buy him a new one. His tastes are too expensive. That's his Hong Kong upbringing. His vow of poverty hasn't done much to squash it.

– from “Beautiful Branca,” a true story that isn't entirely factual if remember correctly