How Madame Arcati adores attention: it is the bright sunshine, the hot affirmation without the melanoma risk. Yesterday, Arcati enjoyed an unprecedented audience lift such as to encourage me in my plans to turn Arcati into a fully-functioning entertainment news website with me as the USP - due to happen in spring 2008 or sooner. And when I say an "entertainment" site I mean one that gives intelligent coverage to celebs and the arts - does the world really need another site just to tell us of Lindsay Lohan's next rehab appointment (Oh, hi, Perez, TMZ and the scores of mini-me showbiz sites on the blogroll)?
The attention arrives courtesy of the treacherous and unprofessional Popbitch site, which should be renamed Pupbitch, given its anthropomorphic fantasies about furry animals, and otters. Long past its glory days - it once broke some great stuff - Pupbitch is now mainly a dumping ground for unusable tabloid tales about celebrity cock, cunt and coke, supplied by some feral talent on the tabloids (music writers mainly). The Pupbitch crew don't work very hard - feet up at weekends with their Oxbridge pals; uncovered holidays galore. Most of their stories are just teasers to navigate around the libel laws, and most people I know just say of Pupbitch: "Whatever happened to it? It's crap." It is outshone week after week by the superior Jason at Holy Moly - I hate to say this, but Jason far out-bitches Madame Arcati and he runs stories I wouldn't touch with a bargepole. All power to him.
Pupbitch purports to have outed Madame Arcati, as do a few drama queens, Spacey fan neurotics, one idle Frenchman and one idle Italian, who've been emailing loads of people with my "true" identity. I guess these are the kind of people who think Elvira eats bats for breakfast and Dame Edna applies Nivea night cream to her facial nooks and nodules at bedtime. If there's anyone out there who imagines Madame Arcati grew in anyone's womb, allow me to disillusion you. Madame Arcati arrived fully formed, a vision in tweed, with a crystal ball or two dangling someplace and a vast bank of knowledge between her ears. Madame Arcati never played rounders in any playground. I hope that this is not too shocking a revelation.
And that's that for now. I shall be dealing with certain individuals in my own way, at a time of my choosing, and with the relevant facts to hand. Otherwise it's business as usual.