History in the page-setting

Salutations, content aggregators! Tin Blott here, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot under the crushing weight of history on this very special day. It is, of course, the inauguration of my faithful companion Mr Rumpus as Yogi-in-Chief of my newsletter business. After advising for so long on technical and online support issues "behind the scenes", as it were, it was clearly time for Mr Rumpus to step forward and bring his clear-sighted vision and innovative thinking to bear on the unpredictable world of modern newsletter publishing. "Change" is the keyword here. Change we can all hopefully profit from. So how will this momentous day play out? As the ceremony lurches forward into action, here's a handy timetable of what to expect:

11.30am: Welcoming remarks by regional managing director Tin Blott

Musical selection of Peaches Geldof

12pm: Yogi-In-Chief elect Mr Rumpus will take the oath of newsletter office, using Tin Blott's inaugural Beano

Mr Rumpus gives his inaugural address, with the wrong postcode

Poem by EJ Thribb

Benediction by Father Frank Dowling

The National Anthem performed by Prince and the New Power Generation

1pm: Lunch, climaxing with Drambuie and Ferrero Rocher

2pm: Parade

Evening: A load of balls, then sleepytime

An exciting day, as I think you'll agree!

You can't bulltwit a bulltwitter

Welcome, content trufflers! A recovered and re-energised Tin Blott here, with an iron grip on the safety handrail of future profit as I take another radical step forward in the modern world of newsletter publishing. I refer, of course, to the brand-new social networking apparatus known as Twittery-Twit. No longer will you have to wait days between Tin Blott's A: Total Content updates as I painstakingly craft each post, a single extended chipolata digit hovering over the keyboard for seemingly an age as my porcine eyes dart back and forth in search of the next required lette... r. 
Twittery-Twit allows everyone to become my followers, which seems only right, and the whole process is so remarkably straightforward that even a fictional internet counterpart who only exists as a warped, buffoonish yet still terrifyingly perceptive reflection of reality could do it. Simply log on to the website at www.twitter.com ... then, um, well maybe you have to register before you can really do anything. 

Anyway, Mr Rumpus has me logged on there somewhere as TinBlott, and my faithful teddy companion is also working toward functionalising my compelling, unique, quality Twit content onto this very blog. If this doesn't elevate our newsletter company's standing in the wider community, well I quite frankly don't know what will!

While I let that paradigm-shattering announcement sink in, let's proceed with business as usual. As you know, content is always at the top of my agenda – hence my blog's intriguing title – so let's hurry along to number B on my to-do list: answering reader's queries, contextualising idle speculation and suffocating rumour and hearsay. Who's first?

To: Tinny B
From: Anonymous
Dateline: 13 January 2009 10:30

Dear Tin. Aren't you concerned about being strung up by your swiss curls during a wildcat strike. I would!

This is a serious forum, Anonymous, for those that take the future of newsletter production seriously. I don't care for your tone. Next!

To: Tinny B
From: Anonymous
Dateline:13 January 2009 10:38

Never fear Tin Pot, the paper must go on and there's a fine remedy to any paper woes. Simply add some of our wonderful Blotting paper and all will be well. Yes, exciting times ahead for all in the PP (parochial press).

Parochialism is a state of mind, Anonymous 2. (Mind you, so is clinical Lycanthropy.) Enough! Such mocking talk wearies me. Mr Rumpus? Fetch me some more of your recuperative broth! 

Do you have a question you'd like to put to Tin? Well, why don't you keep it to yourself for the time being? Unless, of course, it might be considered constructive. In which case, post it in the comments below and the king of content will tackle your query in a future post, possibly after finding it surprisingly difficult to meet his own gaze in the mirror while washing his hands for what seems like the thousandth time

Teddy for (almost) anything

H... hello? [Cough] Hi. Hello. I should probably point out that this is not Quentin Blott. This is Mr Rumpus, his faithful companion of 40 years. Master Quentin is resting after a torrid few days. To be honest, he hasn't really been himself since Friday when I suspected he was running a wee temperature. And wouldn't you know, this funk descends at the very time Master Quentin and I find ourselves bombarded with varied comments and queries here at our humble content-themed blog. And so it falls to me, a mere bear more comfortable operating quietly in the background, to attempt to engage with the concerns of our readers. In all honesty, I doubt I'll be able to get through the entire backlog before I need to get back to tending my recuperative broth. It's vital that Master Quentin is well enough to make his announcement tomorrow. So please accept in advance my apologies if I cannot provide satisfactory answers. But rest assured I will do my level best. Here's the first query:

To: Tinny B
From: Anonymous
Dateline: 11 January 2009 19:07

Tin, can I ask your advice? I was recently appointed to a very senior role in a newsletter similar to yours and my first act was to gather all my staff together and scare seven shades of sugar out of them. Sadly I now find myself in a "pants to the laundry" situation, because due to faulty Tom-Tom navigation, my leaky ship has been steered further into an iceberg of cold despair. I now discover that my most senior production staff have all been allowed to desert ship, leaving me with a crew that is not only mutinous but totally incapable of steering the ship to dry land. Help! Should I rely on Tom-Tom to guide me to safety?

Ummm... to be honest, I'm not really across this kind of thing. But while I can understand why your first instinct might be to abandon a leaky ship, it's worth remembering that while she may be old, she has a bluff bow and lovely lines. She's a fine seabird: weatherly, stiff and fast... very fast, if she's well handled. No, she's not old. She's in her prime. That said, however solid the vessel, I can see how muddled navigation could be a problem. So... shall we move on?

To: Tinny B
From: Anonymous
Dateline: 12 January 2009 23:35

Is your fab blog being blocked in some way within your fine organ(isation)? as my "mate" cannot access it from his work's computer.

Fab? [Blushes] What a lovely thing to say about our humble blog! It's really just a collection of thoughts and musings ... mostly from dear Master Quentin. While I am certainly responsible for much of the backend technical support, I can't comment with any authority about how other sys.admins engage with our content. If your friend is unable to view our website from his place of employment, I sincerely hope that they can access it in some other manner. And I am compelled to answer your query with one of my own, albeit trivial. Did you purposefully refer to your acquaintance as a "mate" after reading the previous, naval-flavoured query? I do hope so, as I have a weakness for thematic unity! Time for one more, I think.

To: Tinny B
From: Nurse Ratchet
Dateline: 13 January 2009 00:19

Tin, could you please come and collect a man called Ricky Martin from A&E? He accuses you of removing his cojones and shafting him, a real double whammy, which means he can't go on livin' la vida loca in the style he's accustomed to. Even more annoying is the wee guy who's trying to reassure him by saying we live in exciting times and to stop moaning and count his bonus instead. Do you know these people?

This is where my attempt to fill in for Master Quentin falls down badly ... and with other comments still waiting to be addressed. I must apologise for my failure and retire. I have no personal connection with anyone called Ricky Martin or his la vida loca. Although, in a certain light, my fur could possibly be regarded as being the colour of mocha. Thank you for your time. 

M.Rumpus

The Tao of Tin Consultation Special

Bienvenue, content crusaders! Tin Blott here, taking time out from my intimidatingly high-powered executive lifestyle to brush some crumbs of hard-won insight from Mr Rumpus's very best floral brocade Sunday tablecloth onto the hardscrabble floor below, the better to aid those less fortunate than myself. 

Veteran newsletter employees often say stop me in the corridor to say, "Tin... my God... how can you? What you're proposing will rip the heart from this whole company! Why!? Oh Jesus Christ, WHY!!"

But that's not the subject we're going to address in this post. Instead, here are some knotty queries sent in by a brace of faithful readers, who clearly realise what a total font I am when it comes to wisdom. 

To: Tinny B

From: Desparada

Dateline: 10 January 2009 18:32 

Dear Tin. I have a question for you. Like the poster above I work for a very exciting multimedia company where content is king. Only trouble is our circulation is plummeting and nobody looks at our website because it's rubbish. Should I leave now whilst there's money for redundancies or wait until we go completely tits up in about 6 months time? Yours Desparada

Hello Desparada! As it turns out, I actually dealt with a similar query quite recently but I'm happy to reiterate my advice. You should do what you feel is best for you, and only you... because no doubt that's what the person in charge of your company will be doing. Another kernel of counsel: perhaps don't toss around that word "t*ts" when you're applying for your next job. Public life may be coarsening but it's our responsibility to strive for a higher standard. So who's next for a paddle in my font?

To: Tinny B
From: Anonymous
Dateline: 11 January 2009 02:02

Hi Tin. Fabulous to see you looking so swish and shiny. One question – how DID you manage to get the unions on side? Last I heard, Paul Holyman was saying you were stupid while Ewan Bryce was promising to fight you – by playing possum from his foxhole. What's your secret to getting those pesky union prols to be so compliant? Did you have a man on the inside? Yours, Anonymous

Greetings, Anonymous! Suggesting that a company may have a spy on the inside during any sort of guild negotiations is a surefire way to spread paranoia and fear among the rank and file... so let me just say "no comment" while nodding and allowing a slight smirk to play across my features. A-ha!

Do you have a question you'd like to put to Tin? Post it in the comments below and the king of content will tackle your query in a future post, possibly after feeling an uncharacteristic flicker of disappointment that his unwavering commitment to quality content has not been recognised in all quarters

I had a dream Pt 1

Hello, content fans. Tin Blott here. I wouldn't usually update this blog in the wee small hours but ... well ... I've been having some trouble sleeping. I had gone through my usual night-time routine – a sherry glass of Drambuie (and an arguably undeserved Ferrero Rocher) before changing into my freshly-pressed pajamas, then getting reassuringly tucked in alongside my faithful teddy bear Mr Rumpus. Then, just as I was drifting off, a weird kind of night terror came along and disturbed my slumber. 

What the hell do you know about newsletter publishing? hissed the terrifying demons. 

I acknowledge the importance of the bottom line, I imparted to the hellish envoys.

But do you really care about content? screamed those tenacious hellions.

Wow.

Did they really know who they were dealing with?

To be continued ...