Michal's films are meant to promote feminism... Is he being earnest?
Posted:
Women are not weak. Most of them have ten hands. What many of them lack in comparison to men is aggression. Men like to act without listening. I want to empower women so that they can influence men to act more favorably for justice, equality and peace.
By getting past my preconceptions, and actually listening to women, I've become a better judge and a more helpful person. I want to give others a chance to do the same.
I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.
Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.
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Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern Poland
Chapter 36: "Write Letter!"
Janina relates how the Austrians kept up their contact with her husband and the kindness they showed during the economic deprivations experienced by the country while under the threat of martial law and their cooperation in qualifying him for a pension from their respective governments which he would receive until his passing at the turn of the century.
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...
On Monday, I arrived in Europe. By Wednesday I had bought a car. By Friday I had met the woman who a few months later would end up having travelling 6,000 miles across Europe with me.
I had come to Europe to experience European naturism, a movement whose philosophy matched my aesthetic of body acceptance and whose organizational structure and leadership I had thought almost exclusively restricted to the western half of the continent. I was shocked to learn that naturism had an official home in Poland, a country not especially known for its liberal culture. I was less shocked to discover that the home was owned by a Dutchman, but even more shocked to learn that it had been largely built by 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.
6,000 miles. One car. One tent. We started learning how to listen. We started learning how to open up. We started cooperating. Even when we were angry, even when it was so difficult that it didn't seem like it would turn out well, we stuck it out. We completed the trip and we came back happy. We had beaten the devil on the road. Back home more devils were waiting to abuse us. More anger. More fear. More sadness. This time we were prepared. This time we had each other and we could harken back to the joy and the trust and the suprise that 6,000 miles had created. We could remember what it was like to live in one tent.
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: Finding Love
Each successive pillar of culture is built upon the previous one. Just as you cannot have Saturday without Friday, you cannot have a strong military without successful children. You can't have successful children without good science. Proper science requires a strong and confident body politic to accept its conclusions. A strong body politic, a peaceful assembly, is made up of strong families. A family is built upon labor. Labor is guided by art.
Good art is a good idea well expressed. A victory over oblivion. Carry that thought down the line. Efficient labor sows the fruit of capitalism. The members of a loving family pray to each other. A just constitution keeps the assembly focused. Science studies movement. Education inspires children. Children grow strong and defend our freedom. Democracy thrives.
Our problem is not that we lack a strong army or smart teachers or scientists or political dialogue or money or prayer. Our probem is that nothing ties it together. Our culture is unraveling. We have business executives who only care about the bottom line. We have church leaders who only care about the good name of the church. We have politicians who only care about getting re-elected. We have artists who only care about their self-expression.
Our pillars of culture have climbed quite high. Yet there's nothing but hot air at the top. There's no roof over our heads. We're exposed. Either nobody taught the people at the top to listen to each other or the only way to get to the top is by not listening. Don't say nobody taught us how. Whenever people try we crucify them. That has to change. We need to accept the fact that we are building this church of Man together and it needs a roof.
We need to bridge the pillars of culture.
Pronunciation of Finding Love
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "finding love."
Video of me pronouncing "finding love."
Definition of Finding Love
I have yet to publish the definition of Finding Love.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for finding love
I have yet to find good references for Finding Love
Use of Love in Michal's FictionCorpus
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 #3373
people capable of building the so.called greatest machine ever conceived would never have to pay for sex. theyd have an abundance of love.
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.
Personal design was key. A Capitalist would spend, at most, an hour for grooming, but his or her family might take an average of three hours for an average occasion, never less than two, and five at most (although seven was not unheard of - especially if Guderians were involved). The way you could tell was by counting the difference between a Capitalist's arrival and his or her family's. No Capitalist would ever wait for his or her family, no matter how quick they be and even if that family were his or her greatest pride. It was a great sign of disrespect among Capitalists if one of their kind were suddenly to arrive with his or her family. What would they do? Talk business? Look stupid? It was inconceivable. Families were always late in coming.
He wasn't the first Panzer-Tank to try. Apparently, that honor will forever belong to Sherman 'Lucky' Panzer II. I will always remember the unforgettable day your grandfather told me his story: it was the night before your blessed mother's wedding to the atrocious Sacha Cohen-Krupnik. A great ball was being held at the Sanctuary in Lichen.
Protected by the MTA (the Martian Terrestrial Authority, which was created for the purpose), the nuclear bomb was successfully transported. In the meantime, in cooperation with Panzer-Tank Mining, Yariba Corporation dug a deep tunnel into the base of Olympus Mons, the largest volcano in the solar system. It's twenty-seven kilometers high! Five hundred and forty kilometers wide! I'm sure you've noticed it. They put the nuclear bomb inside the tunnel and off it went, clearing the most enormous cavern ever made. They drilled holes through the top. They drilled holes through the sides. They laid pipes. They brought water and boiled it. The steam went through the steam turbines, rose to the very top and fell back down again, going through the water turbines on the way back down to the boiler - a gigantic operation. A simple operation! A Martian child could appreciate its magnificent beauty, and, not having to wonder whence that blessed power comes, can look outside his northern window and see that brilliant topographical majesty that gives him light. Blessed Olympus! How young those Martians are when they first learn to fear her power! Give them light, Olympus! Not tyranny! Not shadow and pain! Give them light!
The MTA stationed itself around Olympus Mons and around every major point on the irrigation system, which, after decades upon decades of eager development, became vast and unknowable to men, penetrating far-flung regions with massive amounts of pressure, complicated systems and safeguards, gauges, unseen aqueducts forming strange and multifarious designs - mostly thanks to geography, of course, but also thanks to economics and evolving technology, which insisted on placing new pipes next to old ones, better pumps next to broken ones, and whole new branches of irrigation in previously undeveloped areas wherever greenhouses popped up, according to the most recent wind patterns, leaving old branches completely abandoned wherever dust had made growing unfavorable - but whose first and greatest branch went straight down (in order to beat the Southern Ice Cap Company into submission) to the southern hemisphere, to the Hellas basin, where, being the lowest point on Mars, the first permanent settlements were made (in the dubious hope that the elevation and increased pressure would somehow prove useful to Martian civilization) which, in turn, came to coalesce and grow into the modern urban giant called Centropolis.
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.
Should I not leave a sign? But what shall it say? Be faithful? Have hope? Love? Who will read my sign? Who will cross this desert? I am only kidding myself. I am the only one walking to Paradise this way.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 4, Self-image, Paragraph 5, Clauses 8-10
I looked back at Barbara just in time to see her fallen face. Somebody yelled out sixty and somehow she was able to squeeze out a painful smile across her lovely visage. But her muscles were not able to hold it long: the beggar offered an astounding eighty dollars, and she, dropping the corners of her wretched smile, had to fix the most pathetic face I have ever seen: like a mask of death sprinkled with glitter, painted with bright and happy colors that, aesthetically speaking, did not reconcile her now pale skin, or the uneven lines of her twisted lip, or relieve the tension of her naked brow in that beautiful but wretched face of slowly sinking features, relaxing themselves as if they knew the touch of death, and welcomed fate, even though the mouth was still fixed in horror, quietly extending the poetic moment with its cautious gaping, barely unfurling its bottom lip, as if still unsure of its fate in that final moment: a quiet appeal for justice that did not fall on blinded eyes, even though mine were temporarily imprisoned by her beauty in that smoky dungeon.
So we went back inside and Barbara made her goodbyes. I told everyone I would walk her home, and, luckily, Nike didn't ask me if I were coming back. I knew that if I stayed at that party Nike would have me sleep there, and that was something I was not prepared to do. As we walked down Prospect Street, Barbara and I were talking, but my mind wandered from the conversation. She's a good talker, and she has a nice face too. I imagined what it would be like to make love to her, to marry her and have children. Perhaps she's not the best woman around but she is rather good. In front of her dormitory she gave me her number, and I said goodbye and "good luck with your paper." If you're nice to me, maybe I'll give it to you. As I was leaving she called to me. I turned around and she asked me my family name. "Stewart," I said proudly, and smiled. Back on Prospect Street, I hailed a cab and took it to the station.
I suppose I shall have to explain everything from the beginning. Apparently, the senior class committee or whatever it is decided to hold a date auction as part of festivities for senior week. Now being a good senior, and having plenty of friends, and not being shy about quantifying her appeal as a woman, Barbara decided what great fun it would be to be auctioned off in front of her many admirers, and since many of her own friends would be selling themselves too, there would be very little pressure to maximize her yield, as she was confident, and rightly so, that a date with herself is worth, at the very least, as much as a date with any of her friends, to whom she feels not only love and admiration, but a slight sense of superiority, as that is a gorgeous woman's way.
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.
The second bloom was larger. It was forged into a sickle sword. It was made for deflection and blocking. Gog gave this to his consort, called Magog. It represented the Bhag Mithra, the keeper of the light, whom Magog personified on earth.
Much fiction surrounds the names Gog and Magog. According to my understanding, they were not giants or blood-thirsty monsters. They were not fallen angels. They were one man and one woman. They apparently loved each other, though they often quarreled. Whether or not they made up half their adventures is beside the point. They were definitely the first people to circumnavigate the world. The evidence for that, though circumstantial, is overwhelming.
"The Chinese say the Emperor went to great lengths to please her. He had her entire village re-created with a functioning mosque and a bazaar. Jujube trees were imported. They bore golden fruit. The Uyghur say the concubine didn't care for it. She kept daggers up her sleeves, prepared to strike the emperor at any moment. The Chinese say she eventually fell in love. She bore him children. Whatever the case was, the Uyghur are convinced the Empress Dowager had her eunuchs strangle her to death."
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.
GREY GOOSE: Look, woman: I'm giving you one last chance. Did you rat me out to the cops or not?
MS. JACKSON: I won't say.
GREY GOOSE: I deserve to be answered.
MS. JACKSON: A man deserves only three things: honesty, gratitude, and remorse. He does not deserve to be answered.
GREY GOOSE: This is the thanks I get after all these years of marriage?
MS. JACKSON: It was your pleasure to be my husband.
GREY GOOSE: The worst of penalties was once reserved for such obstinacy.
MS. JACKSON: Not for treason?
GREY GOOSE: There are worse things than being hanged.
MS. JACKSON: Such as?
– ACT I, lines 311-320
(MS. JACKSON exits.)
KOKOMO: Look for it. Where am I supposed to look? Under the rug? Who could've taken it? The Holy Ghost? The Pope?
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 killed my sister. I live with it. I killed her because she loved the enemy a little too much. She lost herself in that love. That's why she wanted to die. When I tell people the truth they treat it like it's a joke. Like I'm saying she walked into my knife. I did kill her. I've never denied it. I stabbed her. My arm came down upon her. I put the blade into her heart. That's where she needed it.
Proctor composed himself. He called the captain. "Listen," he said. "I had a little talk with John." The captain interrupted him. He said he got the news.
"Detective Carlson," came the mocking tone. "Nice of you to join us." The captain was at the crime scene. That meant there was no doubt. There was a link with the first body. "Are you ready for class?" continued the captain. "We're drawing from life today." It was another man. Standing naked. Twisting. His arm over his head. His eyes closed. His face cherry red. It was turned against his shoulder. Looking back as if on a lover. Frozen in a wistful remembrance of ecstasy too swiftly gone by. It was a statue of dead flesh.
Proctor and Bob interviewed the union leadership. Nobody recognized the victims. Either they weren't members or they hadn't paid dues in a while. Bob got a list of members going back ten years. It had Elizabeth's name on it. He showed it to Proctor. Proctor crossed her name out.
To promote democracy, the strong must empty themselves of their strength. The weak must be granted the opportunity to grow strong. We cannot force the end of patriarchy. To do so simply perpetuates feudalism under a different name.
Help me maintain the "Finding Love" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing Polish art...is he screwy?
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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