Dear Mr Key, writes Tim Thurn, Always keen to keep abreast of the latest happenstances in popular culture, last evening I sat me down with a mug of cocoa and a bag of filberts to watch the Mercury Music Prize awards. I was saddened to see that young pop person Tinie Tempah, who was shortlisted, failed to win. Anyway, as I dabbed away my tears, it occurred to me to ask you if Master Tempah is in any way related to that other excellent tiny, Tiny Enid. Please enlighten me.
Dear Tim, In this bewildering world it is critical that we can distinguish one tiny from another. Actually, that isn’t strictly true, now I come to think of it. What matters is that we can tell Tiny Enid apart from all other extant tinies.
Tiny Enid is a heroic clubfooted infant, usually dressed in a polka dot frock, much given to brave, even reckless, deeds of derring-do, and of pronounced Fascist sympathies.
I am not entirely sure who Tinie Tempah is, but I suspect he may be some kind of homunculus, possibly malevolent.
I hope this clears the matter up to your satisfaction.
Mr Key, expert as you are on all things Tiny Enid (including her foot), do you think there’s anything amiss with a footstool being given what seems at first blush to be the rather smart description for branding purposes of ‘Club’? Hence the ‘Club Footstool £299’. The idea is that such a description should make the product redolent of old leather, cigar smoke, fenders, and generally convey exclusivity and privilege. However, a casual listener might be mistaken in understanding that the item was a clubfoot stool. Something of use to someone with a clubfoot but probably quite a different product.
Gaw : Dastardly hyphen removed.
This has been nagging on my mind. Are Tiny Enid’s sympathies with “actual existing” Fascism, or the result of reading the Futurist Manifesto at an impressionable age?