In many ways, this effort owes its existence to Rosie O'Donnell. Not her blithe performance in "Sleepless in Seattle," nor her affinity for Koosh balls, and certainly not her man-crush on Tom Cruise. (Though we admit these things to have played a role in our lives.)
It was O'Donnell's recent return to broadcast television that set off the chain of events that would lead to the formation of this campaign. Watching in astonishment as Rosie cavorted on stage with a rabid Liza Minnelli, and later indulged in synchronized Segway shenanigans, a notion struck us with the force of an off-kilter C flat major: NBC has reached the point where they will put anything on television. Granted, this conclusion had been brewing for some time; the hourlong serial starring Christian Slater as a guy who kicks the living shit out of himself every night and wonders why he's sleeping with his clothes on (or something,) should have tipped everyone off. More recently, a program that appears to be solely devoted to chiseled, sweaty Irish dancers has only driven the point home.
Beleaguered citizens of TV Land, we cite these things not to depress or befuddle you–for, like the great executives of old: Moonves, Tarkitoff, Murdoch, we see in this time of despair, delusion and frenzy an opportunity, a chance for a legend to spring forth , for the return of a storied being, for myth to become flesh. O frustrated viewers, now is the time to shuck off our lassitude and make it happen: by 1st quarter 2010 we will at last get a monkey show on the air.