Enemies of Reason Poundshop potshots at the media moral maze.

They did it! The fuckers played it again!

10.46am on the Ken Bruce show - Bobby Billions's 'Me and My Monkey' is played, to the horror of the listening millions. Clearly my polite and reasonable letter to Radio 2 fell on deaf ears.

A disgrace to broadcasting. Just to remind you why:

It was me and my monkey
Him with his dungarees and rollerblades
Smoking filter tips reclining in the passenger seat
Of my supercharged jet black chevrolet
He had the soft top down
He liked the wind in his face
He said son, you ever been to vegas?
I said no he said thats where were gonna go,
You need a change of place
And when we hit the strip with all the wedding chapels
And the neon signs he said
i left my wallet in el segundo
And proceeded to take two grand of mine
We made tracks to the mandalay bay hotel
Asked the bell boy if hed take me and my monkey as well
He looked in the passenger seat of my car
And with a smile he said
if your monkeys got that kind of money sir,
And weve got a monkey bed
Me and monkey
With a dream and a gun
Hoping my monkey
Dont point that gun at anyone
Me and monkey
Like butch and the sundance kid
Trying to understand
Why he did what he did
Why he did what he did
And at the elevator I hit the 33rd floor
He had a room up top with a panoramic view
Its like nothing youve ever seen before
He went to sleep in the bidet and when he awoke
He ran his little monkey fingers through the yellow pages
Called up escort services and ordered some oki doke
Forty minutes later there came a knock at the door
In walked this big, bad-ass baboon into my bedroom
With 3 monkey whores
hi, my name is sunshine. these are my girls.
Lace my palm with silver baby oh yeah
And theyll rock your world
So I watched pay per view and polished my shoes and my gun
Was sticking on kurt cobain sing about lithium
There came and knocked at the door and in walked sunshine
whats up? - you better get your ass in here boy y
Our monkey is having too much of a good time
Me and my monkey
Drove in search of the sun
Me and my monkey
Dont point that gun at anyone
Me and my monkey
Like billy the kid
Trying to understand
Why he did what he did
Why he did what he did
Got tickets to see sheena easton
The monkey was high
Said it was a burning ambition to see her before he died
We left before encores
He couldnt sit still
Sheena was a blast baby
But my monkey was ill
When I played black jack
Kept hittin 23
Couldnt help but notice this mexican just staring at me
Or was it my monkey
I couldnt be sure
Its not like youve never seen a monkey in rollerblades
And dungarees before
Now dont test my patience cause were not about to run
Thats a bad-ass monkey boy and hes packing a gun
my name is rodriguez he says with death in his eye
Ive been chasing you for a long time amigos
And now your monkey is gonna die
Me and my monkey
Drove in search of the sun
Me and my monkey
We dont wanna kill no mexican
But we got ten itchy fingers
One thing to declare
When the monkey is high
You do not stare
You do not stare
You do not stare
Looks like we got ourselves a mexican stand off here boy
And I aint about to run
Put your gun down boy
How did I get mixed up with this fucking monkey anyhow

So I propose the following: a letter-writing campaign, and if that fails, destroying every single digital and recorded copy of 'Me and My Monkey' in existence. Here's my letter, sent off this morning to Radio 2. Perhaps you can do better:

Dear Radio 2,

On Friday, January 4 of this year I wrote to you about the song 'Me and My Monkey' by Robbie Williams. I explained the trauma and distress that listening to something so abysmally bad had caused me; and I hoped that you might consider my feelings, and the feelings of millions of your wonderful and discerning listeners, when considering whether to play this abortion of a pop record ever again on your radio station.

Clearly you decided you knew best. You decided that your listeners wanted to hear an over-tattooed UFO-botherer from Stoke chirping away about a monkey in dungarees on a tricycle. Imagine the horror and misery inflicted on your audience, particularly the elderly, who may simply have tuned into the Ken Bruce show to hear Champions League Popmaster, and who instead were forced to hear Williams's vanity project given the oxygen of publicity it so patently does not deserve.

It's not me that I worry about. Sure, I vomited over myself immediately as soon as I heard the intro, then repeatedly bashed my face in with a brick to try and take the memory away. But I'm strong. I'm sincerely concerned for those listeners who may not have the constitution to take such a witheringly dreadful three minutes of noise. I hesitate to call it a 'record' because if anything it is a record of how low the standards of your state-funded enterprise have fallen.

I struggle on. Forced to avoid Radio 2 for the duration of my commute into work, I had to make do with some berk from local radio jabbering away about something so implausibly dull that at first I assumed I was hallucinating its awfulness. Please spare me this fate. Please, consider my feelings. Please, don't ever play that atrocious nonsense from Williams ever, ever, ever again. Think of it as a Christmas present to an otherwise loyal and obedient servant.

Yours in sorrow

Anton Vowl.

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