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One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach
with The Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of
my life,
when I was suffering from anguish,
sorrow or defeat,
For example that time fans sued me for being bad at music
I could see only one set of footprints,
so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
When you were with me, I was free,
I was careless, I believed.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there has only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?
YAY-HEE-YEAAAAAAAAAHHHH”
The Lord replied,
“WTF
The years when you have seen only one set of footprints,
my child, is when I carried you.”
- Scott Stapp, former Creed frontman, June 5th 2004
It's official now, but even
back then we could see it rising up above the horizon. It's
always seemed so pleasant but also so impossible, like a giant
monolith rising up from the dirt to evolve us into rational,
thinking human beings rather than the feces and bone throwing
apes we've proven ourselves to be. Now that it's here there are
mixed feelings. But those mixed feelings are like a bag of trail
mix made up of money and vagina: as long as you stick your hand
in the bag and root around in there for a while you're going to
come back up with something fantastic.
My fantastic pussy dollar bundle is the death of Creed.
On July 26th of 2001 I wrote an article for Whatever-Dude.com detailing my dislike for Scott Stapp and his
rugged, Pocket Fisher of Men brand of bittersweet
almost-Christian hard rock. For the uninitiated, points covered
in this article include:
1) That being a Christian band until you're popular enough to
tell people you aren't a Christian band in the pursuit of fame
and fortune is a sin akin to telling a child that you have candy
in your large van long enough to get them in and make them prone
to ass rape via three chords for the next ten years of their
life.
2) 
: :: Scott Stapp :
hubris to the point of nausea
and exaggerated brain damage
My dislike of Creed was like Eminem's anger; childish but convincing and commandingly sincere. If Scott Stapp were hanging by his fingertips on a windowsill thousands of feet above his inevitable doom I would pray to be there only long enough to piss an arch over the edge into one of his nostrils, so the last sensation he would have on this earth is a vurp of my urine.
"It's changed the way I look at people a little bit. Even
people that are close to me. Because six months ago I was a
loser, and now all of a sudden I'm everybody's best friend and
everybody's hero. It's funny how success can do that."
- Scott Stapp, on fame.
Not that I specifically want
anything bad to happen to him. Rather, it's my own kind of
defense mechanism: a highly evolved form of hyperbole. I don't
want him to die. I don't want him to be castrated or lose his
child. So when you read what I'm saying you can understand that
I'm not the type to hide in his bushes and slaughter him in the
night. What you should gather is that if given the opportunity to
face off with him in a celebrity boxing match I would tie a
humorously oversized Rambo survival knife to my foot and kick him
in the nuts until the tendons in my leg snapped.
Luckily, as it turns out, I wasn't the only person who wanted to
do this.
Ladies and gentlemen, the last days of Creed, again, from the beginning.
November 14th, 2001:
Creed Frontman Beaten Up By A Girl...
Creed frontman Scott Stapp was allegedly assaulted by his
ex-wife. Hillaree Stapp was arrested on a charge of
aggravated battery for
allegedly smacking Scott in the face with a mobile phone. The
incident reportedly took place at Scott's residence during an
argument over custody of their son, Jagger, and other matters.
There's a new joke goin' around - have you heard it? What did the
five fingers say to the face?
STAPP!
First of all, let's
establish that "Hillaree" spelled in that persuasion is
the most stripper of all names. Does her name really have to be
that God damn phonetic? It's like her mother went to great
lengths to make her name as imbecilic and unnecessary as
possible. Like women who name their daughters
"Ashleigh." If you're going to be that flaky and
retarded you may as well name your daughter
"Dauggfahrte" and be done with it. Your daughter is
either going to be a stripper or an Old English occupation.
Second of all, let's work out the two possible scenarios this
newsbrief presents:
Scenario 1) Scott Stapp and Hillaree are arguing
about custody of their son, Jagger, and other matters. In a
heated moment Hillaree, in the middle of a phone call, storms
away and throws the phone, which flies across the room like a
precious dove to the olive branch and cracks Stapp across his
giant face.
Scenario 2) Scott Stapp and Hillaree are arguing
about custody of their son, Jagger, and other matters. Stapp
strikes his Jesus pose, giving his ex-wife the opening to smash
him in the face strong style with a Nokia.
I'd personally like to see number two as the more accurate
scenario, but no matter what happened to cause the situation the
results are clear: Scott Stapp got beaten down by a rectangle of
metal and plastic the size of the woman's palm.
Calling the cops when you've been punched outside the realm of
legitimate social or spousal abuse is the most cowardly and
pussed out move a grown man can pull. It's just a fact. If I
called the cops every time a woman has slapped me in my short
lifetime I'd be the vice president of Verizon or the chief of
fucking police right now. You decide whether or not you deserved
it, act accordingly, and move on. But Stapp didn't make the call.
He got his personal assistant to make the call.
Scott Stapp had his personal assistant call the cops on his own
ex-wife after she beat him up. Did you read that correctly? Can
your brain even begin to fathom what that means? I can't. I can't
even bring myself to write something funny about it. It's amazing
and ridiculous. I can see Stapp now, striking the deep throat
rocker pose and being surprised to find that a two-foot brick
made of solidified arrogant fuckhead has fallen out of his
butthole. I bet Stapp makes his assistant dangle his wiener
around to clean up after he takes a piss. And if you remember the
song "Arms Wide Open," I'm pretty sure that
secondhanding responsibility and being brow-beaten by a five-foot
tall woman weren't things Stapp planned to show his kid.
Decemberl 9th, 2002:
Creed Sued By Fans For
Sloppy Show
(Court TV) -- Christian rockers Creed are being sued by a quartet
of disgruntled Chicago-area fans who claim that the band's lead
singer was too wasted to pull off a December 29 gig at Chicago's
Allstate Arena.
Scott Stapp was so "intoxicated and/or medicated that he was
unable to sing the lyrics of a single Creed song. Instead ...
Stapp left the stage on several occasions during songs for long
periods of time, rolled around on the floor of the stage in
apparent pain or distress and appeared to pass out while onstage
during the performance."
"One time it was really, really weird. I was doing a show in
Boston and I swear to God I saw this Indian right in the dead
center of the crowd."
- Scott Stapp, on how singing so passionately gives him visions.
Normally I would jump to support this cause. Suing Creed for being a horrible band is a great idea which can be applied to many facets of life. In fact, hair comes cleaner when washed with suing Creed. Each concertgoer paid $56.75, a grand total of $227 dollars, and demanded a refund for both tickets and parking for everyone else at the show. Stapp ended up defending himself in court, and the case was dismissed.
Stapp's explanation: What fans
mistook for him passing out onstage during the song "Who's
Got My Back" was actually a piece of rock and roll theater
in which he laid down to make a point. "It was a symbolic,
personal gesture," Stapp said. "I had some things going
on in my life. I kind of felt alone. And it was a symbol that I
didn't think anybody had my back at the time. Some people get it.
Some people don't."
I get it.
I get that when you fart you try to blame it on someone else.
I get that when Pee-wee Herman crashes his bike in front of BMX kids he tells them he meant to do it.
I get that asshole white people know that the Holocaust never happened just because they can't stop being filled with ignorance and hate and I get that asshole black people know that they're being racially persecuted just because they can't pick up a fucking book and read it to be smarter.
So I can see how not owning up
to one's faults or mistakes is an easy thing to do when you
aren't facing any real consequences. Do you think a Neo-Nazi
would admit that the Holocaust happened if he was riding in a
train to a death camp? Yes. Do you think an ignorant black guy
could find and accept a happier way of life even through the bad
times if he'd stop hiding behind walls and let it be changed? Of
course. Do you think Stapp would admit to being a drug addict and
an alcoholic if he ends up in a motel scraping his forearms with
a knife. Maybe.
So what does this mean for the fans?
Fuck you guys.
You're the ones who paid sixty bucks to listen to two hours of
Creed songs. What you got was an awesome Jesus intervention of
some kind or at the very least a hilarious moment in the waning
career of America's leading douche producer. If somebody who
didn't go to the show sued Creed it would be different. But as
Creed fans you guys can suck it long and suck it hard. Look back
fondly on your experience, chalk up the sixty dollars as a karmic
loss, and have fun at the 3 Doors Down concert.
"Hey Scott, what's...oh, sorry, I'll let you
finish."
February 12th, 2004
Creed Singer Offers Songs To Mel Gibson For 'The Passion'
"It's a controversial film, but you've got to look at it
like any other book, like the 'Lord of the Rings.' It was made
after three books, right? 'The Passion' is just another
interpretation of a book."
- Scott Stapp, probably not the first to compare Legolas and
Jesus
And that book is Stone Soup.
No, seriously, after years and years of telling people that he
doesn't rock solely for Christ, Scott Stapp records four solo
songs about Jesus and gives them to Mel Gibson. Well, "gives
them to Mel Gibson" is too strong. Stapp revealed on
February 12th that he was "in talks with his label for
permission to hand at least one of the tracks over to the
actor/director." The problem with this is that
"Passion" was released on February 25th. So Scott ended
up with a song on a "Music Inspired by the Passion"
soundtrack. And hopefully he went to the video store and rented
that controversial film based on the fucking calendar.
So is Creed a Christian rock band? No, come on, really, tell me
this time.
"It's surprising to me how it's all come about. There
are Atheists and Christian fanatics who love our band. It's cool
because it's like bridging a gap--maybe the Atheists can learn
something from these people, and maybe the Christians can learn
something from these people. And there are kids who don't give a
damn about religion and like it because it rocks."
- Scott Stapp, on how Jesus and Bizarro Jesus both love him
Because he rocks.
I'd like to belong to a family of do-gooding astronauts in the
hope that I may too one day fly into space, be bombarded with
cosmic rays, and gain the superhuman power to convince myself
that the only thing binding the world and it's religions together
is my ability to make it look like I'm giving the microphone a
blowjob. I'm beginning to think that Stapp carries a jar of
plutonium under his goofy cowboy hat just so I'll have an
explanation as to why his brain has religivolved into potato
salad.
But that's not all! Part of that enjoyment for him, Stapp hopes,
will include taking a crack at acting. "I've been reading
scripts for about eight years. You name the big directors and I'd
kill to work with them. I'm just waiting for the right role. I'm
being really selective. I don't want to look back later in my
life and be like, 'Ah, I shouldn't have done that.' "
I can think of a few more things you shouldn't have done.
June 4th, 2004:
ORLANDO, Florida — The biggest
rock band of the past decade has broken up.
After nearly 10 years together and more than 24 million albums
sold to boring white people, Creed have decided to put an end to
their string of multiplatinum records and chart-topping singles.
The choice was made months ago, when guitarist Mark Tremonti and
singer Scott Stapp reconvened after a yearlong hiatus and ran
into problems.
"We had gotten together two or three times and nothing
happened," Tremonti explained. "We got our instruments
and played, but neither of us was taking it seriously. We were
just running in circles. There wasn't a vibe like on the previous
records. It felt very joblike. We knew that it would take us
years to get a record out. A lot of people had started to
complain because our music had turned them into mental lepers,
and Scott hadn't yet harnessed his Christ powers strongly enough
to heal them. So far he's just fed a nation with only a fish and
two loaves of ass."
The trouble wasn't that the collaborative
couple — Tremonti was responsible for the music, Stapp for
the lyrics — were clashing creatively. How can you crash
creatively when you aren't being creative? What would they argue
about, which Pearl Jam song to wank off next? What brand of
wifebeater to wear in their new video? Personal issues, mostly
between Stapp and the rest of Creed, caused an irreparable rift
that ultimately led to the band's demise. SEXUAL personal
problems.
"Scott and I hadn't been close for a while," Tremonti
said, "and things just weren't working out. ... None of us
really argued amongst each other. It was always Scott who had the
problem. Like anybody on Earth needed me to tell them that."
Tremonti then stood up in his pile of money and whooshed away
into the night, riding on giant magical coat tails.
Stapp declined to be interviewed for this story because he's very
busy trying to turn his Deer Park into Wild Irish Rose.
*weep*
Life After
Creed
Where do we go from here?
Where do we go from here?
The battle's done, and we kinda won, so we sound our victory
cheer.
Creed is dead, long live Creed. The band (all of them, minus
Stapp) are joining up with a new singer to form the totally not
Christian sounding "Altar Bridge," a
"simpler" band going "back to it's roots."
Did you read that? SIMPLER THAN CREED. How can you have a rock
song simpler than Creed? All I can guess is that Mark Tremonti is
going to tap his foot while the others play the washboard and
blow into a jug. I guess by "roots" they mean the
actual roots of the tree their faces all became a part of.
The funniest part is that the band hated Stapp so much that they
had their new band's debut album complete before they told him
they didn't want to be Creed anymore. Stapp thinks everything is
fine and walks into the studio to find them there recording with
somebody else, like catching his husband in bed with another man.
In anger, Scott rolled a giant stone in front of the studio exit,
and by the time Altar Bridge moved the stone STAPP WAS GONE.
Gone to the world of hip-hop!
Stapp has gone back into the studio and is currently working on a
solo album with hip-hop producer 7 Aurelius (who has worked with
Ashanti and 50 Cent) and his new backing band, The Tea Party.
Sadly Stapp won't be rapping on the album but insists that it
will have "beats to make your 15's thump." So now
instead of "Creed" on the radio all the time we'll have
the "dingly dingly dingly DUN-DUN-DUN" Creed music on
one song and "HOOOONE-LAY, DEEE-FRUNCE-HIIIIISSSS" from
Stapp on another. And the pain will be lessened by the hilarious
notion of Scott Stapp making a hip-hop album with something
called "The Tea Party." I can't wait for his HARDCORE
ballet show featuring pretty ponies. PRETTY PONIES WHO SURF LAVA
and DRIVE FORD EXPLORERS THROUGH BITCHING WAVES.
Just think of it as a peaceful mitosis. Once "anaphase"
hits the band Creed will be Altar Bridge and somebody else, and
Scott Stapp will be two small tanned men. And won't that be
funny?
R.I.P.
Creed
1997-2004
Another turning point
a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
directs you where to go,
So make the best of
this test and don't ask why,
It's not a question but a lesson learned in time,
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of Jesus' life.
