John Montgomery  Presents This Week's Creep Logo by Lynn Kauczka

All Things Must Pass The Creeps Stop Here

I've been doing this for six years. In January of 1996, when I started the Creep of the Week web site, George W Bush was unknown outside of Texas. Bill Clinton was in the Oval Office getting his first look at Monica's thong. JonBenet Ramsey was a sleazy-looking five-year-old. The exploits of OJ Simpson were still front page news. In fact, OJ was the Creep of the Year in 1996.

Seems like a long time ago. It was a long time ago. Six years of anything warrants some re-examination. Lately, I've been banging my head and stubbing my toes against the boundaries of the Creep concept. If I want to write about, say, the death of George Harrison, or my fantasy featuring Courtney Love, Britney Spears and a two-headed giraffe, this web site's format doesn't work. It's not like there's been a lack of Creeps. Actually, they're worse than they've ever been, but I'm running out of adjectives to describe them adequately. And through some strange coincidence, I'm also six years older now. As George (Harrison, not Bush) used to warn us, All Things Must Pass. He's now an expert on that.

So there will be no more Creeps of the Week. At least not any written by me. I'm not going to disappear from the web. I'll take a few weeks to figure out what's next and then be back in some form or another. Bookmark and keep an eye on johnmonty.com where the Next Great Thing (whatever it is) will appear.

I'll certainly miss the email, instant messages, cards, letters, phone calls, erotic photos, marriage proposals and anthrax-laced packages I've received from Creep readers over the years. The vast majority were engaging and fun, even when the objective was to hammer out disagreements over issues great and small. On Monday mornings, I could always count on a boatload of reaction in every possible flavor. It was only when I heard nothing at all that I knew I'd had a bad week. Speaking of Monday mornings, it was obvious by watching the counter that it was when most people tuned in, presumably while at work. I proudly think of that as my own small contribution to the downfall of the work ethic.

A special thanks goes to Tim Wallis and the boys at WKRP.FM Internet Radio, where I had a Tuesday night gig for the last year-and-a-half. They kept me on my toes, made me defend myself against an onslaught of abuse, and even gave me my own theme song. Tune in and give 'em a call sometime.

Of course, if you're in the habit of stating opinions on the web, you're going to hear from the Heavy Breathers; the ones for whom any disagreement about anything is cause for an emotionally hysterical personal vendetta. I heard from my share of them. Luckily, emails from guys like that are usually pretty short because the excessive hair growing on their palms prevents them from typing too much. If you're ever on the receiving end of that odious swill, I advise a thick skin and a quick delete key.

Something else I won't miss: Those occasional awful Sunday afternoons spent staring at a blank screen with a blank mind while the inbox filled up with the "Hey, what the hell are you doing? Who's the Creep?" complaints from the increasingly impatient fans. Deadlines suck, even when they're self-imposed.

Other than that, it's been a pretty good ride. My goal was to make people laugh and think, in that order, and judging from the reaction, that's what happened most of the time. Laughing and thinking are very important. These days, we have huge numbers of mindless, human sheared sheep who don't have the ability or inclination to think for themselves. Their thoughts, if they have any at all, are regurgitations of what they heard the day before from some deaf-and-dumb AM-radio gas bag or humorless, screaming banshee on 24-hour cable news. That's a problem. It's getting worse. So don't let anyone else do your thinking for you. Not even me.

Finally, here's the answer to a trivia question: Which one of the 300-odd Creeps of the Week was the absolute worst? The most morally reprehensible, emotionally repugnant and physically repulsive? Linda Tripp. No contest. First prize. Give that girl a burqa. One with an asbestos lining, size XXL.

See you at johnmonty.com. Coupla weeks or so.