tripod's fine for webhosting, but their blog feature has been annoying me in a few increasingly important ways.  comments never, ever worked.  including html or xml in my posts was futile at best, and lost posts at worst.  the lagmonster afflicts me so i assume it afflicts you.

 i like tripod fine for the free webspace, and i gave their blog feature a fair shake.  and it shook back so hard that it rattled my teeth.

thus, my personal pulpit has moved. 

 http://jmmcdermott.blogspot.com/

Posted by jmmcdermott at 11:53 AM CST

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the stadium was older than most of the players on the field.  the design was modern gladiator.  from the back, huge concrete concrete, like stream-lined aquaducts, funnel the watery beer and sewage hotdogs up and down the coliseum stairs for cheering fans.  

the ceiling of the stadium was open, but the sides had these wide curves to keep the sound of the screaming fans from spilling out onto the highways.  The sound was useful to the players on the field.  On the highways, it was just more noise pollution.

the roof had this black sound-proofing sprayed all over it.  the stuff had decayed beyond repair.  tiny black fragments swam through the noise to land on hooded sweatshirts and into plastic cups. 

one piece as big as a black locust landed on my leg, and i freaked.  i thought it was a bug.  my father pointed at the black thing on my leg.  i held it up, and told him that the sky was falling. 

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Posted by jmmcdermott at 12:01 AM CST

Updated: Tuesday, 26 December 2006 12:53 PM CST

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just once i knew the way of all flesh

the black fibers sank in little strips

from the concave stadium roof

the stadium lights like noise

and the crowd still because the player

sank in little strips into the cup

of gatorade.  a young woman held a sign

limp in her hand from the 30-yard line

an hour ago she was calling out to him

an hour from now she'd sit in her car and yawn

with the headlights.  the sign on the stadium floor

all the lights off

the little black ceiling fibers like black snow

and empty cups 

and moonlight

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Posted by jmmcdermott at 12:01 AM CST

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my father has trouble climbing stairs.  he looks up at the distance between the guard rail and the row of seats.  he has a look on his face like he's an old man.  he gets to the top just fine, but i'm thinking about how in another five years i'm going to have to hold his arm.  ten years ago we were in martial arts together beating the shit out of each other with kickboxing pads.

we climb over the legs of the people on our row.  we take a picture of the stadium for my mom.

he tells me about the last time he went to a football game.  he and his wife were living in denver (this was 1975...  76?) and they went to a game between tampa bay and denver.  he couldn't remember the quarterbacks' names.   all anybody talks about these days are star players, and he tells me about the parking lots and the magic time between weddings and children.

birds fly around the stadium lights, hunting for the flies of winter.  black insulation from the roof -- this old stadium's falling apart -- falls through the sky like moths.  birds dive for the black strips like taking bait. 

the last time i was at a football game, i was at a college game with a sousaphone on me like an octopus in love.

a whistle blows.   i almost miss the kickoff.  and that's why the whistle blows: everyone will look up. 

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Posted by jmmcdermott at 1:15 PM CST

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at texas stadium, the famously incomplete roof is falling to pieces. 

little strips of black insulation drift randomly upon the patrons in the cheap seats.  some of the bits are bigger, like large crickets.  most are just light black dandruff, jarred loose from the stadium vibrations, that drift directly into your cup of beer.

 i recommend, in the future, drinking from the plastic bottles for sale all over.  

 i thought of various methods of describing this phenomena appropriately. check back tomorrow and over the next few days for my experiments in style.  i'll probably not quite get the styles right, but hopefully i will be close enough that you can see the influence of the author on the description.

Posted by jmmcdermott at 12:57 PM CST

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get off the internet and do something with your friends and family.  if you can't find a friend or family remember that hospitals and churches are always open on christmas, and they could always use more friends.

merry christmas.  now skedaddle! 

Posted by jmmcdermott at 10:41 AM CST

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i've been holed up in my room saving the galaxy from the dark lords of the sith.  call it a vacation.  call it a distubance in the force.

 just don't call me until i conquer the evil darth traya...

Posted by jmmcdermott at 1:45 PM CST

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arlington, tx, is the largest city in america without public transportation.  if one desires to travel to the store for the proverbial stick of butter, loaf of bread and quart of milk, one must drive.  the sidewalks are awful, or non-existant.  no bicycle lanes are present in town.

arlington's recently enacted a new ordinance that prevents all smokers from lighting up within twenty yards of any entrance.

the two or three breaths of cigarette smoke are not nearly as bad for your lungs as the vast herd of trucks and suvs and sportcars coughing and fuming along every road.

i guess it's easier to legislate someone else's sins, then to pay for your own. 

Posted by jmmcdermott at 12:18 PM CST

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when raccoons chew their lips curl up like they're growling. 

they take the cat food.  they don't wash it.  they eat it exactly as is.  then, they take the raccoon food and dip it into a bird feeder and eat that wet.

 raccoons do not seem friendly, to me.  they seem like the kind of animal with sharp teeth, adept claws, and beady eyes.  when they look at a person, they seem to be considering tactics and maneuvers.  a feint to the left, to the right, and a jump to the kneecaps.  

cut a body down to size. 

 i think i will call every raccoon i meet hans, after the swordsman.  

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Posted by jmmcdermott at 11:00 AM CST

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"how’d you get stabbed in the foot?"

"i was at this country bar…"

"oh, say no more, you were at a country bar and you got stabbed in the foot."

"yeah…"

"say no more.  you tripped over a fork at this country bar."

"no, i was dancing with this girl..."

"ooh, sexy! and her boyfriend came over and…"

"no..  no…  she had heels on."

Posted by jmmcdermott at 12:01 AM CST

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