The water cooler talk when I was back in Lincoln, Nebraska seemed to be dominated by the recent bar brawl between the members of former local embarrassments turned on-again, off-again rock stars 311 and former Creed singer Scott Stapp. The story, as corroborated by eyewitnesses: a drunken Stapp hits on a woman in a bar, who happens to be married to one of the members of 311. 311 get pissed off, collectively, and beat the shit out of Stapp, collectively. Pretty funny story, right? It gets better. I see a little blurb about the bar brawl in the latest issue of "Teenage Panty Digest"* and 311 have come forward with their side of the story, collectively. They claim, contrary to eyewitness reports, that Mr. CreedStapp drunkenly approached them, out of the blue, and said this: "311, I am ready to fight." I fucking wish it had gone down that way. That's a beautiful sentence. Read it out loud, wherever you are: "311, I am ready to fight." That's a fucking mantra, is what that is. Scott Stapp, you are no longer the former singer for an unlistenable band with the worst album cover in the histories of music and graphic design. You are an American hero.