Death by wolves or death by creed. coin flip.

I'd say the following qualifies as a not only an early 2k11 miracle, but also as an important lesson. http://gizmodo.com/5739091/how-creed-saved-a-norwegian-boy-from-a-pack-of-wolves

In case you don't want to take the time to read that article, basically there was a Norwegian lad who was walking home from school. Apparently, a pack of wolves found him and contemplated devouring him. His mother, born of a long line of good viking stock, had taught little Walter that, if ever attacked by a (pack of) wild beast(s), running away is the worst thing that one can do. This apparently lets the wild beast(s) know it is okay to then attempt to devour the escapee. If one merely holds one's ground, and maybe plays CREED REALLY LOUDLY, the wild beast(s) may have second thoughts.

This is apparently what happened, when little Walter stumbled into the midst of the pack of wolves.

First, my mind is slightly blown that, of all things about which a mother must warn her child, what to do if one encounters a pack of wolves is at the top of the list. Man, but American moms are overly paranoid. Can you imagine, having to worry about your kid getting chewed to death by wolves while walking the 2 blocks home from school? I suppose they should have wolf guards, instead of crossing guards in Norway land. Dressed in the skins of beasts (mostly wolves) and wielding a wolf carved scepter hewn from the tallest tree in Norway in one hand, and an axe made from the cold bones of ancient Inuits in the other, s/he (they) would be the envy of all Scandinavia. And certainly local children would need not fear being eaten by wolves, or other sundry carnivorous creatures.

I certainly can't say that I am surprised that Creed served as an effective ward against a pack of blood thirsty wolves. I think that is the lesson we can learn here--whether faced with a pack of wolves, a pack of unwanted friends, bullies, Nazis, illegal immigrants--its a pretty small demographic of douchebaggery that is somehow immune to the repellant musical horrors of Creed.

I'd rather be consumed by wolves than to suffer even a small moment of Creed induced eardrum rape. Shame on that boy. He may have spared himself a violent death by chewing, but he has shamed himself in front of God, the world, and the animal kingdom.


Dirty finger nails and weird shit drawn all over the hands. That seems about right.