Sunday 15 March 2009

So what rhymes with "layoff"?



Salutations, content sniffers! Tin Blott here, refreshed and reinvigorated after a socks-off furlough that has almost literally made me a new man, although still not one who can quite live with himself. 

Now: it's not like me to sponge off someone else's work... actually, who am I kidding? It's totally like me to re-appropriate someone else's efforts for my own ends.

So I was particularly tickled by the musical exhortations of the political editor of American newsletter The St Louis Post-Dispatch, who has cut a brand-new track entitled Copy Editor's Lament (The Layoff Song). Tactfully circumventing the fact that that title alone could do with some trimming back, it's a toe-tapping power-pop number with a surprisingly powerful theme. Despite my better judgement, I feel honor-bound to spread its bittersweet message.

You can listen to it here.

And if you'd like to pore over the lyrics for ironic typos, they are here.

And, in all fairness, the author's antiseptic personal website is here.

That is all. No singing along, mind.

Friday 6 March 2009

Who botches the Blotchmen?




Aloha, content acolytes! Tin Blott here, back from an extended – and needless to say, unpaid – sabbatical. We must all band together and do our bit in these troubled times for newsletter production. 

I genuinely believe the best way to view such a "furlough" is to use it for self-improvement. For example, I used the downtime to catch up on some classic episodes of Doctor Who featuring my favourite companion Turlough

Talking of science-fiction, I find myself strangely drawn to another unusual character called Rorschach, one of the caped cast of Watchmen, which has apparently recently been made into a popular telefilm. This slippery fellow is a ruthless yet deeply troubled individual, who presents an ever-shifting mask to the world – essentially, allowing people to interpret his expression however they wish while he secretly pursues his own sordid agenda. Why does that seem so very familiar? Who knows? Now, super-friends – onward into our very own dystopic future!