Well as Jackie Roper says, if I’m going to talk down on Led Zep, I might as well talk down on musicians everywhere. And you know that poor girl touched a nerve with me. Not that I was being too harsh, after all what I do is talk down on musicians everywhere (some people can be remarkably dim). Nevertheless she did remind me that talk is all I ever do. She is right, I need to be pro-active. I need to take a stand.

Incidentally I saw the Lord Of The Rings over the Christmas period, and no-one felt fit to warn me that it had Enya’s sick and vile warblings all over it. No-one also felt fit to tell me that the film also had Brian Eno in it as an elf, not to mention that all the Hobbits were played by members of Reef. At least the spawn of Steven Tyler got a cut on the face, though that is nowhere near enough punishment for Love In An Elevator. (As part of my new pro-active regime I have considered buying a gun a shooting all of Aerosmith, but I fear for my aim – as a I don’t want to miss a thing). Anyway, watching the film with my fingers in my ears, and seeing the flaming Vagina of Sauron got my thinking. Well initially it got me thinking on Marianne Faithful, but then it hit me. If the evil dark lord of Middle Earth can use the beasts to conduct his campaign again the amassed forces of pop, then why can’t I.

Straight down the library went I (with nary a stop at a hostelry for a reviving G&T), to get out a book on bewitching animals. And already I have my first success. A cat attacking Moby. Look at his poor little punchbag face, in so much pain after my agent went and delivered a good chomping to his pinkies. If only tetanus had set in properly, no fingers means no keyboard playing, means no sampling of tedious Southern Spirituals and hence no Moby. Instead he would be reduced to shuffling around New York whinging to himself “Why Does My Hand, Feel So Bad”.

Watch the skies popstars everywhere. For I now have the beasts at my command…