User:the Man in Question

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I am the Man in Question (or the MiQ, though many have said tMiQ or TMIQ). However, I may not be the man in question^a—especially as I may not even be a man (although, for clarity's sake, I am). I will now tell you the story of my life. You may choose whether or not to believe it. I chose to believe it once and was soon thereafter ridiculed for my gullibility. Sad times when the source isn't to be trusted. I'm told there was a time when books could be believed. Or perhaps it was an articulate vision of the future. Time can get confusing as it wears on. For example: my account says I started editing in January 2006—but I definitely started in January 2005.

Irrespective of this or that, user pages exist to tell other users a little (or a lot) about the user in question—in this case, the Man in Question. In other words, who is the Man in Question? There are five different ways you can read my story, but all are exactly the same (just in different formats), so it won't make too much difference how you read it.

L'ingegno umano…mai…troverà invenzione né più bella né più facile nel più breve della natura, perché nelle sue invenzioni nulla manca e nulla è superfluo.^[1]
— Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci

For people with short attention spans

When my grandfather died of trichinosis, I was shipped off to boarding school. My least favorite teacher at Gravier Academy^b was Esther Parj (whom everyone called Es), a crabby woman who always seemed to find a way to turn the day's subject to the Middle Ages. It was from her that I learned that Jews, though formerly forbidden from owning land, were some of the first bankers.

I finally graduated and went to a small college in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was there that I met Kit Van Artog, my future wife. Our wedding was held in Budapest, in the cave church under Gellert Hill. I still remember the Roman candles.

For people with mediocre attention spans

The first thing I remember is waking up. Before then, I had been asleep. But when I awoke, I was in school. I remembered, ever so faintly, the death of an uncle. The class, naturally, was U.S. history. Mrs. Lana Danver was describing how Jews had gone to Shanghai to escape oppression in Germany in the 1940's, when in walked the girl of my dreams—Lea Elwyn Lock.

Lea Elwyn Lock—the name does a pirouette in your mouth every time you say it. Lea had blonde hair, blue eyes, and an exotic sort of beauty that doesn't generally accompany people of English descent. Yet a Lock she was—and, unfortunately for me, a Lock she would always be, for which neither I nor any other soul in this world (or the previous) had the key.

I moved to Budapest the following year. Lea never knew my name—but then, my name doesn't exactly dance along the tongue. Alphonse Pow, after all, packs a little too much punch to go adagio through the lips. Instead, I studied that great Magyar called Sándor Petőfi, whose immortal words still ring in my ears:

If, my lady, you are the heavens,

I'll make myself a star;

If, my lady, you are hell,

I'll damn myself for you.^[2]

For people with long attention spans

When I was born, I was named Alphonse. As lovely a name as that may be, its origins are less than romantic. I was thus named because my mother, Constance, had a fixation for the T.V. show ALF, which came out almost four months before I was born.

My earliest memory is the first day of preschool. The only person who was nice to me was Rea Baaski. I also remember my teacher being Mr. Arol. This probably isn't true, however, since (as I remember it) he was my teacher till seventh grade.

Rea and I grew up as best friends. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a classical beauty. I didn't. Not that that mattered.

When I was thirteen, Rea started going out with Leon Sanch. Alone in the world, I turned to my only other interest: history. Ty Arol, the teacher, was a soda fountain of knowledge, from which flowed every flavor but ginger ale (which isn't worth flowing, anyhow). It was he who taught me about Cidelus, the Jewish physician who angered Pope Gregory VII over his close ties with the Spanish royalty.

Then, senior year, my brother-in-law (who had steadily supplemented my mother's income as a barrista) died. We moved to D.C. so my mother could get a job as a grimgribber in the U.S. government. And so it was that I graduated in our nation's capital, 583 miles from my home town and the girl of my dreams.

After graduating, I went to the farthest-away place I was willing to go—Budapest. There I lost touch with the world and immersed myself in the lore of the turul—the Hungarian falcon.

Finally, in 2006, I received a federal grant from the U.S. government to hunt for evidence of the turul. Unfortunately, I found nothing but the detritus of former Soviet rule. Discouraged, I moved back to the U.S.

I moved to New York to get a degree in linguistics. While living in the Village, I met Miss Baaski again. After their fling in middle school and high school, she and Leon had parted ways. On February 12, 2007, Rea and I were married. I am currently pursuing a doctorate in diachronic linguistics.

For people who just like to look at pictures

First

, so I had

who

, when suddenly . But then

. The end.

For people who speak Drāwk/Cąb

Drāwk (or, as it's called in the Southern Asu, Cąb) is the language of the indigenous Toirtap people of the Asu Region of Northern Acirema. I learned it while doing missionary work there four years ago. The following text is my story in Drāwk:

Gni pirgmirgś reḥt ōmym—foh cumō otot de netsil gni vąhret fanō os de idreḥt—afym em (rōfyl et anut rōfnu). Alfonz Pąu de mansāwi ni arbeḥt deriu qertaḥt, ś'rettam ni trams śa wohwreḥt afym foplē hehth tiw. Reb birgmirg, asāw Constąnz reḥt ōmym. Tituōbak (niḥt D) natnē moma rōfpot suō y fiddō y rē vostņ sih cihwlat ipsoh ąnin robsāwi.

Maḥar ba yl-bąb orpsāwē manla erś Ąlberḥt Ainstain, taḥt emth guat Zęlah Vunn, rehcā et y rotsihym er eḥw perplō brataēm dellornē'st nerapym enin sāwi, n'eḥw yl-lacif icepsrē tal Sraēy lareveś.

Y tua eb fōtros ni Alpād nąsē y enē ergriah derdā heḥs. Ś'ma erdym fol rigeḥt Deana Chelovsky, tē miraē y roi nujym ni.

Y lękil nusāw tith girsāwi reḥtē em reved luō witaḥt sāw ti, y lękil nuwoh de z'ilā eri asueḥt ni (gni vil). Tsepa, dub ni de—vil oḥws śertca nais—sura saweḥs. Rehfō erut cipawasi n'aēm yl-pmi sitem y byl (…et anut rōfnu).

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The file Martha Washington.png, which this user uploaded or created, is a featured picture.

A fact from the article List of common false etymologies, which this user created or significantly contributed to, has been featured in the Did you know... section on the Main Page.

A fact from the article Agnes Blannbekin, which this user created or significantly contributed to, has been featured in the Did you know... section on the Main Page.

A fact from the article All the Wrong Questions, which this user created or significantly contributed to, has been featured in the Did you know... section on the Main Page.

A fact from the article Bankes's Horse, which this user created or significantly contributed to, has been featured in the Did you know... section on the Main Page.

A fact from the article Tomb of Orcus, which this user created or significantly contributed to, has been featured in the Did you know... section on the Main Page.

This user has successfully nominated or updated 1 article featured in the In The News section on the Main Page.

This editor is a **Senior Editor III** and is entitled to display this **Rhodium Editor Star**.

The original WikiOgre

Awards

quality no question

Thank you for quality articles such as Agnes Blannbekin, Tomb of Orcus and List of common false etymologies of English words, for gnomish jobs such as spelling correction, for the stories on you user page and the diligent list of your contibutions, for "If you are rude, sarcastic, temperamental, or hostile, your section will grow stale much more quickly" – you are an awesome Wikipedian!

--Gerda Arendt (talk) 09:21, 21 June 2017 (UTC)

		The Graphic Designer Barnstar
		Awarded to The Man in Question for designing Wikipedia service awards. Vjmlhds (talk) 20:59, 18 April 2014 (UTC)

		Keeper of the Roll Award
		The Keeper of the Roll Award is awarded to User:MiQ for substantial contributions to the Service Awards Scheme. Mootros (talk) 17:39, 11 August 2010 (UTC)

		The Cleanup Barnstar
		For good judgment and tirelessly working to cleanup the morass of redirects, ensuring this place stays nice and tidy (even if it makes more work for me!) I award you this barnstar. Keep on truckin'! ~ Amory (u • t • c) 02:16, 13 January 2010 (UTC)

		The Excellent User Page Award
		If imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery, you'll be happy to know that during a recent update of my own userpage, I've stolen a whole lot of ideas from your userpage! :D Thanks for the guidance, and by the way...nice userpage! — Hunter Kahn _(c) 05:12, 17 December 2009 (UTC)

		The Copyright Cleanup Barnstar
		For saving the main page from certain fair-use doom, I award you this barnstar. Keep up the great work! Master of Puppets - _{Call me MoP! :D} 06:26, 15 August 2009 (UTC)

		The Excellent Userpage Award
		In recognition of a userpage which is helpfully informative, deeply personal, and very cleverly funny, I hereby give you the Userpage Barnstar. Fishal 22:18, 7 June 2007 (UTC)

		The 25,000 Edit Star
		Awarded to The Man in Question for being a part of the 25,000 Edit Club. Vjmlhds (talk) 20:59, 18 April 2014 (UTC)

Notes

^Note a : Along with the "in", notice that "man" and "question" are no longer capitalized. Such a small change can make such a big difference.
^Note b : All names of people, places, and entities appearing in the "my story" sections which do not belong to well known individuals are fictional, and were not intentionally created to resemble real people, places, or entities. That said, no name on this page is a complete fabrication. As for the events detailed? Your guess is as good as mine.

Reference

^ I Manoscritti, vol. I, chap. 1
^ From Fa Leszek, verse two, by Sándor Petőfi, as translated by MiQ (Al Pow).

[1] I Manoscritti, vol. I, chap. 1

[2] From Fa Leszek, verse two, by Sándor Petőfi, as translated by MiQ (Al Pow).

[1]

[2]