Help Replace Insult With Truth in 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...

My plane touched down in Poland on June 20th. A month later I was in Austria. Two days later, Slovenia. The next day, Croatia. A week later, Italy. The next day, Switzerland. The next day, France. The next day, Germany. The next day, Belgium. The next day, Holland. All with a woman I had met my first weekend on the Continent.

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.

I considered myself young and able, and being American I often convinced myself I was more than able. She didn't feel quite so young. Having grown up in Poland, what was and is still considered by many to be a poor country, she had the added burden of not only being disadvantaged but having it held against her. The difference became palpable when I realized I couldn't even properly translate into Polish the very American word, "opportunity." A chance? Sure. An occasion? Why not? An opportunity? Not in the book.

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 27**
8/15/2011
♫ 26༛♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Radio Inn
Amsterdam, Holland
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 27**
8/15/2011
♫ 26༛♊²⁵/₂₄♀
Radio Inn
Amsterdam, Holland
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.

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.

If you're wondering...

How do I use this?

Just click on a title to see examples of "love" 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 Use of Love: 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 Use of Love: Table of Contents

Use of Love in 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 #7542

harley's on her way to the boat. for the rest of my life ill never forget the look in her eyes. when i told her i love her.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

24 December, 6:57 AM

Frame #7081

there were so many things redbox hated about her father. she found it hard to live with him. until she found something she could love.

Chase Credit

23 December, 11:16 PM

Frame #6788

theres so much i dont know about the man who sometimes seems to love me very deeply. i cant do this.

Chase Credit

23 December, 6:23 PM

Frame #137

its warmer in the water than it is in the air. the squids are heating it up. if only they could fly. but then we get enough heat waves.

Justin Bieber

27 July, 4:14 PM

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Use of Love in 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.

Perhaps someday that city will grow to the very edges of the Hellas plain, measuring the whole two thousand kilometers of the basin's diameter. It would be the greatest city in the solar system. Or, perhaps, the city will be completely abandoned, once the hydrosphere threatens it with flooding. It may depend on what you choose to do, my child. The future of Centropolis hangs in the balance - there is no doubt about it. The city's founders never imagined a day when the atmosphere would reach one thousand millibars, and yet, your great-great-grandfather, Hitler Panzer-Tank, was the first governor to go outside in the light of day without his suit and breathe normally with an oxygen tank.

– Verse 10 from the chapter called Childhood

We are always intrigued by the unfamiliar. Someday, perhaps Russians will bring us chicken broth and we will wonder at it. My grandmother used to tell me how Poles went to Germany to sell their lard, and how it sold! as if Germans had never seen a pig before! Lard with onions! On bread! Smeared on bread! Lard smeared on bread was the greatest thing they had ever seen. It makes one laugh, but these things happen.

– Verse 71 from the chapter called Childhood

We were among Capitalists that day. When we got to the Sanctuary in Lichen, it was full of them. In trousers, crinoline, made-up and dyed - if Marx were alive, he would have sat on a rock and cried. We were impressed, but uncomfortable. We wandered; the church's nave was huge. The floor was emptied. There were three different orchestras preparing to play. I wondered how badly the Church needed money - not many people could rent out a Sanctuary for a private party, but Sacha Cohen-Krupnik, now that his father was dead, was certainly one of them. Perhaps your grandfather was allowed to use it, in exchange for giving the Church and the Cosmonauts their privileges on Mars.

– Verse 22 from the chapter called Childhood

The most oppressive thing, however, was America's shadow: it fell across the globe. America the Beautiful was in the stratosphere and it was devastating. The ashfall was continuous: it choked the air; it choked the ground. Nothing could grow - at least, not very well. Climates were changing.

– Verse 87 from the chapter called Childhood

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Use of Love in 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.

After Nike left us, we went back to Vinnie's. Before long, the auction started and Luke began reassuring Barbara that he would help jack up the price. I told him to stop being silly; we had only been kidding and if Luke actually started bidding he would only ruin the poor girl's reputation. Instead, I offered my own services: if the need should arrive, I would start a bidding war. Barbara loved the idea. "You'll make all the guys jealous!" she said, and she told me to do it anyway; but I had to laugh because I wasn't really serious when I said it. But before I could say that, something happened and Barbara's attention was taken away. I was left feeling obliged; Barbara's turn was coming up, and just as I was wondering what sort of impression I would make, our collusion was trumped by the two girls in front: they started making out.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 7, Dating a Woman with Dogs, Paragraph 3

We were true scholars in the ancient sense of the term: we were both poor and rich - temporarily dispossessed - but all of us were lucky members of a prosperous guild, in possession of its own schola no less, and, in that apartment of ours, we engaged in all manner of business and festivity, according to our trade. Our particular guild, our personal collēgia, was devoting itself to a fabulously paradoxical craft. We became quite skilled in those days: working and resting, meticulously building up our minds and then blowing them away. Like Martial, we were men of perverted talents. We were philosophers contemplating the clouded mind; we were poets of confusion, lovers of obscenity.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 6, Doing Business, Paragraph 7

There was a message from Albert - in Hungarian, of course - but I was able to recognize the name Balaton. He had sent this postcard from Lake Balaton. He addressed it to some place in Romania. There was also a postscript. I was able to recognize two Hungarian words. The first word was the word "love." And the second one was the word "little," which came immediately before a name I fully recognized: Indiana. "Give my love to little Indiana," I whispered. I looked at the postmark. It was August of nineteen sixty-eight. Albert was sixteen years old; Indiana was two. All of a sudden, my loins were inflamed.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 8, Financial Instruments, Paragraph 3, Clauses 9-21

He didn't stop: he kept driving as quickly as he could scan the face of every woman walking by - not an easy task (even for Nike) - one which soon left both his neck and his eyes very tired. Then he'd find himself trailing just one woman, perhaps someone who resembled his prey, but, usually, just someone who caught his fancy. Then he'd have to shake his head and curse: he was looking for someone very specific, and, even if some other women were attracting him, they were distracting him, since he thought he knew exactly what it was he wanted.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 1, Family & Welfare Reform, Section 2, Understanding Physical Desire, Paragraph 10

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Use of Love in 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.

Shephard stopped. He pushed the idling motorcycle towards the west. The humvee was four hundred yards away. It was moving out from behind the truck. It was gaining speed. The armed police wanted more. Shephard hoped they were foolish enough to follow. He leaned down. The petcock valve was already in the reserve position.

– from “Two Dudes and a Chinese Desert,” a friendship story featuring a kind of love

"There is no doubt," they said. "The autumnal equal-night passes from the Scorpion's claws to Heavens' mistress [e.g. Virgo]. Southern peoples worship the claws as scales of justice. If Indra has ordered Asvin to abandon justice, there is no hope. Wealth will continue to erode at the hands of the Paralatai. Southern peoples will be tempted to invade. Many of them worship the woman. The highlands call her Ishtar; the lowlands, Inanna."

– from “In the Beginning, There was Gog,” a fantasy story featuring a strong woman

The enemies of Gog were known for their smooth necks. They cursed the land of Gog. Banding together, they pushed him against the Black Sea. Though his people stretched between the Tyras and the Tanais rivers, he was pushed against the sea.

– from “In the Beginning, There was Gog,” a fantasy story featuring a man and a woman who fight with dragons

Gog smiled. He said, "Don't tell me you still want to fight." The sword was pointed back at his throat. Skin Smoother smashed into it. This time, the blade bent into a right angle.

– from “In the Beginning, There was Gog,” a fantasy story featuring a frank discussion of where the gods are located

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Use of Love in 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 exits.)

MS. JACKSON: Please look for it, Kokomo. It's been in the family for generations. It's priceless.

KOKOMO: Yes, ma'am.

– ACT I, lines 223-224

LUKE: 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.

LUKE: I'm not gonna let him drink with the flies, am I? Besides, he just challenged me.

MS. JACKSON: Go.

– ACT I, lines 374-383

(FLETCHER enters.)

FLETCHER: What's going on?

MS. JACKSON: Your father is harassing me.

GREY GOOSE: I'm not.

FLETCHER: He says he's not.

MS. JACKSON: Don't listen to him.

– ACT I, lines 331-335

FLETCHER: You thought Norfolk had a checkered past. Being a former prison colony's prison colony is nothing next to Pitcairn.

ALICE: I would never have imagined it was like that. I thought it was a paradise.

FLETCHER: I'm writing a play about it - specifically about the woman who chopped off that man's head. She's an ancestor of mine. Maybe later we can go over a few scenes.

ALICE: I'd love to.

FLETCHER: If your neck doesn't still hurt.

ALICE: I'm feeling much better now, thank you.

FLETCHER: If you strained it, you strained it. I have to say, you have surprisingly little tension.

ALICE: It's my honeymoon. I've been having lots of sex.

FLETCHER: You shouldn't have reminded me.

ALICE: Why not?

– ACT I, lines 626-635

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Use of Love in 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 don't know," said John. "Maybe anybody. I wrote him a letter before we got married. I told him things. People I had made love to. Not everybody. Not that last guy. That was after the wedding. He found out I cheated on him. Proctor, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

"Am I on the list?" asked Proctor. He dug his arm into John's throat. "Am I in that letter?"

– from “We Need To Talk,” a mystery story featuring a life model put in a weird position

Daniel was right. All of a sudden Sir Lewis had his answer. He would be a pain in the ass. He would do something he never imagined himself doing. He would enroll in community college. He would take Miss Day's class.

Daniel thought Sir Lewis was being an idiot. His mother thought he was throwing his life away. But Sir Lewis had to do it. He had to make a sacrifice for love.

– from “The Skirt on the Proctor,” a kid story about making connections in an unforgiving world

Sir Lewis and the Asian girl were soon joined by a third man. Daniel. A total dork. But not completely unskilled. The Asian girl had gotten better too. And slimmer. She was wearing skirts now just like the proctor had before the proctor got pregnant. She was hot, as Daniel put it. And she had a beautiful name. Miss Day.

That year Sir Lewis, Miss Day, and Daniel placed third in the Math Olympiad. Sir Lewis was in love. He promised Miss Day they would do better the next year. And they did. They won.

– from “The Skirt on the Proctor,” a kid story about cooking up romance in an unforgiving world

I replied, "That's why it's supposed to be set next to the fireplace on December fourth. Our ancestors had it timed."

– from “St. Andrew's Eve,” a story of love that might ease one's sense of discomfort depending on your outlook