When I first walked into the Vagina Cafe, I was pleased that somebody had taken the time and the risk to put the principle of female empowerment ahead of everything else. I want to honor that. I want to support it and to help it spread by helping others learn how to listen.
Having learned to consider a woman's needs as if they were my own - no matter how ridiculous - I've given myself a chance to grow. I want to give that chance to others.
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.
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 the second to last weekend of June, 2011, I had joined my fellow naturists at a gathering of the Naturist Society in rural Pennsylvania. The next day I left on a flight for Europe. By the end of the week I had unexpectedly met another naturist, a woman, who was destined to accompany me on a tour of Europe's great naturist resorts.
I knew naturism was popular in many parts of Europe and as an artist who had worked on body acceptance for his entire career I was keen on documenting some small part of it. Lo and behold, I found a very important part of it hiding in Poland. Her name was Margo.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
As far apart culturally as we may have been, we spent 6,000 miles in one car. We spent over 40 nights in one tent. We started learning how to listen to each other. We started learning how to accept our differences and how to let them help us instead of driving us apart. Slowly but surely, we started learning how to beat the devils that abuse us.
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: Historical Fiction
I fondly remember the Scholastic Book Club catalogs I got in elementary school when I was a kid. I was always looking forward to getting them. It was fun to read all the descriptions and figure out what types of literature interested me the most, although it was particularly upsetting if a world literature anthology I liked was too expensive to even think about buying. I had to make informed decisions. Otherwise it meant a trip to the library and the hope that somebody else wouldn't have checked out any of my books-to-read.
There was one book that was always at the library but that I never had the courage to check out. It wasn't science fiction. It was a book about sex. I was afraid to hold it. Opening it made my heart race. I was afraid to be seen standing in the aisle. I had to switch aisles. I was a long way from the children's section but this was the one place in my world where I could see what a naked girl my age looked like. In the photograph she was standing in a line of girls and women, each progressively taller, older, rounder, fuller. If I had been able to at the time, I would've given this book a nobel prize just for this photograph. I wanted to know what girls were hiding and this was the one book that had the courage to show me the truth. Just having the chance to see the truth was satisfying, not to mention the fact that I was fascinated by the changes represented in those bodies. That I had to hide myself in a corner of a public library in Lincoln, Nebraska in order to see this truth opened up many questions for me.
The last time I was in a library I saw a grown man sitting in front of a computer unashamedly clicking through pictures of large breasts in bikinis on Facebook. If this man were able to do it, I'm sure he would give Facebook a nobel prize for providing this type of literature. He and I are products of a culture that fetishizes the human body. All primitive cultures fetishize something. They give it a specific charge, either positive or negative. It's the "why" that drives a community. Cowboys drive a herd of cattle by negatively fetishizing the land on either side. Men are driven the same way. For us to build a truly free society, one marked not just by sophisticated technology but also by a sophisticated culture, we will have to destroy the fetishes that drive us.
It doesn't matter what types of literature you like. Whether you like reading science-fiction or sampling world literature of an adult nature, just keep in mind that your choice is a little nobel prize of its own. Your choice dictates what kind of writing takes place. If you want humanity to live like cattle, do nothing. If you want to be a cowboy like me, see the fetish for what it is. Destroy its power.
Pronunciation of Historical Fiction
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "historical fiction."
Video of me pronouncing "historical fiction."
Definition of Historical Fiction
Historical Fiction is a dusty book.
References for historical fiction
I have yet to find good references for Historical Fiction
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 #2198
i knew it. rerouting monobeams. one lane open. road traffic merge left. its backed up for at least 200 yards. i lost him.
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.
Meanwhile, the Martian Governor-general was facing deep-seeded unrest. Constant and often violent opposition was coming from every single direction. Autocracy and corruption had so destroyed the Martian economy that massive inflation, shortages, and worst of all, separatism plagued Centropolis. Rich Martians blamed the Governor for doing nothing. Therefore, while the United Nations were busy with Sadatmo, the Governor-general's personal security service entered the historically-restive region of Elysium and forcibly evicted both protestors agitating for separation and the loyalist reformers who were willing to cooperate with Centropolis from the government offices that they had occupied. There was significant bloodshed.
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.
When I was returning to Luke's room, which occupied the corner of the building, I faintly heard a tenor voice approaching steadily from around the corner. As the voice came nearer, I convinced myself that it was Luke's gait that I could hear from the swishing of the trouser legs, and that, in fact, it was Luke's voice that was now a few feet away.
But he was always telling his stories to other people. Some of them I would hear several times, depending on the company we shared, but never, not once, was I personally privileged with a story. His opinions I would hear, sometimes even his principles; he always shared his feelings, which is something I rarely did and only with great difficulty; on the other hand, he rarely gossiped, but he offered countless anecdotes, often involving other people; none of these, however, were stories, which included all these elements and more besides.
And to further my justification, I also thought we had been rescued from that facetious duty of having to judge some wine superior to the rest, thereby making such and such a vintage exorbitantly expensive, falling into the hands of the wine industry, et cetera, et cetera. The truth, as I discovered much later, is so much more banal. The wine-making process remains wonderfully complicated for me - I really don't know what amount of moisture will ruin a grape - but I've come to realize that if one simply drinks enough wine one knows what is crap and what is not; among those which qualify as good wines, the onerous classification of aroma and color and whether it be fruity or "reminiscent of Morbier on the palette" is all that distinguishes between them.
– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 1, Section 1, Introduction, Paragraph 1, Clauses 17-19
It had nothing to do with the bottle. Even as those thoughts curled within me, enveloping me, goadingly steeling me in the gathering steam, I knew the real reason for my decision: it was Macy. He would be there at Nike's house; I would have to see him, greet him after all this time, and, fearing the encounter, I knew that I would rather meet him in the context of a party - not the prepared emptiness, the disquieting silence that surrounds a house before its guests are welcomed.
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.
They passed a house with a red roof. Three minutes later, they passed another one. The driver explained they were pumping stations. People signed up to live and work in them for six months. Officially, his cousins lived in three of them. Unofficially, one lived in Shanghai; another in Beijing. The third ran a brothel in Quiemo. They each earned eighty dollars a month. They split it equally with him. He smiled. "Big money."
He thought surely somebody would see him now. The floors below the forty-ninth were all office space. Patsy realized how hard-working the Japanese were. With his last remaining ounce of strength, he whispered, "Take a break." For the first time in his life, perhaps rightfully so, he cursed the Capitalistic virtue of productivity, thinking, "Why couldn't I have gone to France?"
She realized her glove was too thick. She was pressing more than one button. She tried to push the red one with her tongue. It was too difficult. She tried using her teeth. She couldn't reach. She pushed her arm back into the sleeve. It got stuck. She put the PDA in her mouth. She tried to squeeze her hand between her neck and the collar. It was impossible. She put her free hand between her legs. She tried to twist off the glove. It wouldn't move. "Hee-hee."
Shephard turned his back on the man. Creeping towards the other end, he wondered if he had made a mistake. "Stop!" cried the officer. "Put down your gun." Shephard paused. He was in greed's hands now. "I said put down your gun." He did it. "I've got him!"
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.
LUKE: Misprision?
LESBIAN: Neglect of official duty.
ALICE: Why don't you tell them about your thing, Luke?
LUKE: What thing?
ALICE: You know.
LUKE: Absolutely not.
ALICE: What's wrong?
LUKE: It's embarrassing.
FLETCHER: You must.
ALICE: Come on. It's not so bad.
– ACT I, lines 167-176
KOKOMO: It is. I keep telling you that.
FLETCHER: Maybe for Catholics: you have thousands of years of ritual to fall back on: Popes and bishops to decide for you.
KOKOMO: That's not fair.
FLETCHER: I'm supposed to be my own priest.
KOKOMO: Maybe you should start praying.
FLETCHER: For what? For the will to become Catholic?
KOKOMO: You know what I am. You've taken the time to study what my faith requires. I'm overjoyed by that. I realize it angers you sometimes. You need to remember it isn't about priests or prayer or sacraments or the Bible or saints or miracles or doctrine or creed. It's not even about salvation. It's about sacrifice. If you, Fletcher Christian, are not willing to place yourself into the hands of God - to submit yourself to His Divine Mercy - then nothing else matters and there will never be any happiness between us.
FLETCHER: I see that.
KOKOMO: You don't see it.
FLETCHER: How can you tell?
– ACT I, lines 1342-1351
FLETCHER: If he came to you in penitence, would you accept him?
MS. JACKSON: That's difficult for me to say.
FLETCHER: It's not. Tell us. If he were sorry, would you forgive him?
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.
– ACT I, lines 1320-1329
FLETCHER: (placing the towel on the table) I would rather you get the towel dirty than your clothes.
ALICE: Is that the reason?
FLETCHER: Have you thought of a better one?
ALICE: Not quite.
FLETCHER: I'm trying to ensure the efficacy of this massage.
ALICE: If you insist.
FLETCHER: Not so fast: do it slowly.
ALICE: Don't tease me. Turn around.
FLETCHER: Must I?
ALICE: You do.
– ACT I, lines 556-565
MS. JACKSON: I will go insane if I don't find out.
GREY GOOSE: It's all very simple. These two have been running a racket: a confidence game. Kokomo plays the prostitute, whose story is so ridiculous it must be true. Finding out for oneself is the challenge. If she's the best lay in the South Pacific, one should know the difference.
FLETCHER: Satisfaction guaranteed.
GREY GOOSE: Cash comes rolling in.
MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. What happens when-
FLETCHER: By the time they get to bed, they think she's a charity case.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Adam's groom asked his husband-to-be what the hell was going on. Adam said, "Let's find out." So the three of them retired to a separate room where Steve O tried to explain what had happened. When he got to the finger up the bum part, Adam's groom exploded. He was so mad that Steve O had ruined his special day. He yelled obscenities at him. He called him names. And on top of it all he cried, "Do you know why your fiinger went up so well? Because you've had your head up your bum your entire life."
The Amazon was called. He decided Orbitz's exchange with the shopkeeper was a kind of code. He ordered that they both be watched. It wasn't hard to do. Orbitz didn't move from his hotel room. The shopkeeper stayed in his shop. Customers came hawking antique ray guns. There were bidets customized for extinct species. A collection of hand-painted mechanical snakes was ruefully turned down. After a few days the members of the surveillance team noticed something strange. The shopkeeper never bargained. If he made an offer to buy something it was invariably albeit grudgingly accepted. The rest of the junk he dismissed even if he liked it. "What a shame," he would say. "I wish I could afford it." In the same hour he would sell something for ten times its cost. He was making piles of money.
The next day Putin came with his grandson. This was to be my first pupil. Putin told me not to do anything special. Not to even bother asking the boy questions. He was dumb. All I had to do was keep talking to myself as I had been doing. His grandson would listen.
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 maintain the "Historical Fiction" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal's exporting art...is he crackers?
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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