Rebekah Brooks: Vanity Fair's rapid, elegant revenge

Rebekah Brooks at Leveson

Selective amnesia and photographic recall aside, Rebekah Brooks' stint in the forensic chair at Leveson drew attention to Vanity Fair - and how a report it ran back in February, on her mysterious rise to power and her reported peacemaker role between Rupert and James Murdoch as Hackgate kicked in, was (she said) a load of cobblers. Or words to that effect.

I must commend the glossy for its slickly lethal response to Brooks' dismissal of its credibility (and marketing opportunism). It has put up a short report on proceedings at the Royal Courts of Justice with a transcript of her denial that she ever played Kissinger between king and heir. The writer is amused by Brooks' 'white Peter Pan collar' and an evocation of 'Winona Ryder's court costume as imagined by Tim Burton.' Others have likened Rebekah's appearance to one of the Salem witches,

Whatever else Brooks' fate, fashion death has been pronounced.

The magazine has also helpfully included a link to its February report 'Untangling Rebekah Brooks'. The words salt and wound come to mind. Perhaps less endearing is the magazine's patronising invitation to watch a video of Brooks' display of selective amnesia and photographic recall - it's 'all quite entertainingly British.' Doncha know.

Vanity Fair Leveson/Brooks revenge report, click here

Vanity Fair: Untangling Rebekah Brooks, click here

Neville Thurlbeck interview: 'I'm in this Sunday's Passion play!'

Neville Thurlbeck.
Photo by Jason Alden (Independent)

Isn't he adorable? There's something about Neville Thurlbeck that suspends all sensible judgement. He needs little introduction suffice to say that once upon a time he was news editor and chief reporter of the late News of the World before Hackgate blew up his award-winning career. To date he's been arrested twice but not charged, the second time over something he wrote on his riveting blog. What's Rebekah Brooks really like? When did he lose his virginity? Who should play Rupert Murdoch in Screws: The Musical? He kindly indulged me with answers, and then some.

MA: Neville Thurlbeck! Tabloid award-winning legend! I can't believe I'm interacting with the man who enabled Jeffrey Archer to bring himself down, turned Max Mosley's life into a national peep show and introduced us to the joys of Rebecca Loos. How much have you been offered for your memoirs? Tell me you're writing your memoirs (I know a great agent, by the way). 

NT: First of all, before I answer your questions, please forgive me if I begin on a very serious note and say how very much I like the curtains in Madame Arcarti’s virtual boudoir. And I’m really rather envious of you having Molly Parkin as a fiancée too as she was quite a dish in the 1960s (and I’m sure she still is).

The memoirs business is something which does crop up frequently. But I can’t fathom who the blue blazers would be interested, apart from media types. It strikes me that it would be a heck of a lot of work to make about £62.50. I’ve been asked to get involved in all sorts of documentaries and drama docs too. But they all want me to pour a bucketload over my former colleagues. I respect them too much to do that. Even the odd one who I don’t care for I may criticise in private but never in public.

MA: Which scoop are you the most proud of?

NT: I guess the Jeffrey Archer investigation was the most worthy as it exposed his perjury, made him stand down as a candidate for London Mayor and sent him to jail. But in terms of circulation, it would have to be the David Beckham scoop which put on hundreds of thousands of sales and went right around the world.

  

MA: And which scoop, in retrospect, is the one you most regret. And why.

NT: The story which saddened me greatly was our Ricky Hatton splash when we caught him taking hard drugs. I was the man who got that famous picture of him snorting a line of cocaine in a bedroom using a hidden camera. I can see why that was a great tabloid story and a valid one at that. But nevertheless, Ricky Hatton is a great person and a wonderful sportsman and I was sad to see him on our front page like that. Since then, it looks as though he has cleaned up his life so I try to hold onto that positive.

MA: All these scandals you've brought to our attention - they must have left you with a sour view of humanity. Or perhaps you have a strong spiritual disposition...

NT: I have a very positive view of humanity. The News of the World was all about human frailty and there is often much to admire in epic tragedy and how people respond and deal with it. I still believe that most people are fundamentally good. And during my 20 odd years on the road, I was always amazed by the kindness of strangers. And yes, I’ve always had a pretty strong spiritual disposition. I go to church twice a month and always have. Last night, I was underground in the church boiler room shifting gallons of paint so we could get our fire safety certificate!  And I always have a drink with the vicar on the first Monday of the month – what I call ‘having a bev with the rev’. Oh, and I’m in this Sunday’s Passion play! Now there’s a little line to pick up for a few of the third rate diary columnists knocking around Fleet Street that like to pretend I’m a celebrity and write rubbish about me!

MA: And now you're reviewing theatre shows - is it true, for nothing? How did the gig come about?

NT: I reviewed the National Theatre’s War Horse for the blog and the local paper where I live, the Surrey Comet, emailed me to ask if I’d be interested in reviewing plays on their patch. They don’t have the budget to pay me a bean but I agreed on the spot! I go anyway and it’s a fun thing to do.

MA: I LOVE your blog. It radiates charm. So few journos can do blogging. Would you describe yourself as a 'seducer'? Considerable charm must have been deployed in your career to win people over. I mean, when did you lose your virginity? What's your star sign?

NT: That’s a very kind thing to say. I’m not sure I’d describe myself as such. As a journalist, I found playing a straight bat was the most successful tactic. And most importantly, to just be myself. The public can spot a phoney and smell baloney from 100 yards. 17. Libra.

MA: Now, look. Imagine you're Lupert Murdoch (the Sunday Times has confirmed Wendi calls Rupert 'Lupert'). What's the one thing you would have done, or not have done, in handling this awful phone hacking crisis?

NT: I would have knocked on Rebekah Brooks’ door when I realised my evidence in defence of the ‘For Neville email’ had been sat on.

MA: Did you ever meet Lupert when he visited Wapping? What's the poppet like? He's Pisces, you know - very clued into surfing people; very seductive.... 

NT: I met him once or twice in passing when he was introduced to me in the office – “And finally, this is Neville, he’s the idiot who writes all the embarrassing, troublesome stuff,” that sort of thing.

He was very low key. The first time I met him, he appeared at my shoulder to read what I was writing on screen which was quite alarming as I was sending a very risqué joke to a friend.

MA: I thought shutting down the News of the World was a bit drama queeny. I know it did the trick of shutting up Carole 'What the hell?' Malone, but I mean...

NT: It was a tragedy. 168 years of history and nearly 300 jobs down the spout to save a few faces. And it didn’t work.

MA: I have to ask this Neville and you don't have to answer. But are you, or have you ever been, in possession of information that could bring down the entire media empire presently called News International?

NT: Of course in 23 years, you do get to see and hear an awful lot and the higher you move up the more you see and learn. But I’m not vindictive and my difficulties with News International were brought about by an ignorance of my true position. It’s complex but all will be revealed and resolved in time so I’m relaxed about it and getting on with life.

MA: Do you miss the pressures of Fleet St? You were mightily successful. What's the one thing on a daily basis that tells you that life now is better or worse than it once was. (Sunday mornings must feel odd - no more sense of triumph/dread).

NT: Life is better as I’m much fitter. I got a border terrier last year (‘Ralphie’ after Sir Ralph Richardson because he looks like him!) and we go for a run every morning. And then a long walk every afternoon. He’s a splendid little lad and we’re best pals. As well as the dog, I also get to see my family a lot more too of course! And they tell me how nice it is to have me around such a lot. I faff about working for my property company/doing charity work for Talking2Minds/reading/going to the theatre and doing the odd trip here and there to see old friends in far flung places. And I make the dinner every night too! There was no point having a cleaner and a gardener when I was around so much so I’m ironing, pruning and dusting too! So I’m becoming quite domesticated.  My family finds it all highly amusing as that never used to be me when I was on Fleet Street. In many respects, I’ve never been happier and I don’t fear for the future.

But of course, I miss the hurly-burly of Fleet Street. When this has all been lifted from my shoulders, I’ll look around and choose my new direction. In the meantime, I’ll keep buggering on.

MA: Do you get offered a hot drink in the cop shop? Are the plods civil to you? I thought your recent arrest was a little odd, a little hasty.

NT: Horrible vending machine coffee. Mr Plod is always very civil to me and I am always very civil to him too. He has a job to do and it’s quite an important one. I haven’t met a single person who would disagree with your view on the last arrest though.

MA: What's Rebekah Brooks like? I was reading a bio of Elizabeth I recently - flame-haired, dissembling, paranoid, rarely ate. While others feasted on 10 course meals, Elizabeth would sit there picking away and imagining ills after a workaholic day of the screaming abdabs. Beating up poor Cecil. Does Rebekah call you late at night from Chipping Norton and tell you to behave yourself?

NT: My view of Rebekah is controversial and at odds with a lot of people at News International who seek to place the blame for everything on her shoulders. She didn’t close down the paper. Rupert and James Murdoch did. While I was her news editor, I found her to be bright, imaginative, inspiring, loyal, good natured, utterly professional and totally dedicated. She could however be moody. And if anyone provided incontrovertible proof that one of her project ideas was unworkable, it could take forever to move her. I don’t mind admitting I am extremely fond of her. I’m afraid bail conditions prohibit telephone calls from Chipping Norton. But if she could, I’m sure she’d call to tell me to calm down and stop fooling around.

MA: If Screws: The Musical ever gets made, whom would you like to play you and why? And Lupert - it's a pity Wilfrid Hyde-White is not around, though I don't think his Aussie accent would've persuaded. To play James Murdoch I would resurrect Max Headroom - but you're probably too young to remember him....

NT: If I am to be the black hearted villain the Guardian thinks I am, then it would have to be George Sanders or Cecil Parker.

If I am to be the wrongly accused man trying to prove his innocence as my family think I am, there would be none better than Robert Donat.

But if I am just to be the bumbling clot who pretends he knows everything and secretly knows nothing, as my chums think I am, then it would need to be Will Hay.

But if you were to go for boring authenticity, probably James Bolam in his younger days as we both come from the same town and went to the same school and kind of walk and talk in the same fashion, although he is a little broader in his accent.

I do remember Max Headroom too. I can even recall the Billy Cotton Band Show on Saturday nights!

MA: Tell us what you're up to now - I see your sister has launched a glossy magazine. If she's seeking a reputable media astrologer....

NT: I’ll ask her. It’s called R&R and is at http://www.randr.co.uk/ (little plug for little sis!)

This week I’m meeting a TV production company in town which is producing a documentary on PTSD for Sky 1, presented by an A list TV celebrity. I have persuaded them (or should that be “seduced them”?!) into featuring Talking2Minds and the men and women we have helped. I am going to give this 100 per cent and do everything I can to help them make it happen. 

MA: And finally, Neville, imagine you're Madame Arcati (I sense your inner thespian) and make a prediction about how Hackgate will climax.

NT: A small number of convictions of some very talented journalists who hacked phones but stopped doing so many years ago when their colleague was jailed. Some people will rejoice. Others will be sad. But life will move on.

MA: Neville Thurlbeck. Thank you so much for your time. Arcatistes everywhere wish you well.

NT: It’s been a pleasure sweet girl. But I still don’t understand why I had to do the interview in this ra-ra skirt?

Neville Thurlbeck is PR Director for Talking2Minds, a charity which treats sufferers of post-traumatic stress disorder. Donations can be made at http://www.talking2minds.co.uk/

His blog is at http://www.nevillethurlbeck.com/


Londoner's Diary on the London Evening Standard followed up this interview here.

The Sun seeks protection - under 'bonkers' Human Rights Act

The Sun newspaper never misses an opportunity to wage war against the Human Rights Act. With approbation it last year reported the PM's vow to tear up the statute. And the paper fell in love with Britain's Equality and Human Rights chief Trevor Phillips when he described the Act as 'bonkers'.

As the paper wrote last December, Mr Phillips [said] the laws had "fallen into disrepute". 'People believed they had "come to mean the defence of the rights of unpopular minorities — of criminals, terror suspects and illegal immigrants — at the expense of everybody else."'

So, which newspaper staff (or unpopular minority) are now thinking of defending their interests under the Human Rights Act as Murdoch's internal inquiry team hand bribery suspect hacks (or 'legends') over to the cops? Step forward the galley slaves aboard HMS Sun. The irony is just too exquisite.

To read more, click here.

Hackgate: The Sunday Times and the gigglers

I bought the Sunday Times for the first time in ages yesterday, thinking I might find contrition over Hackgate on every page. And how wrong I was! Chortles, chortles everywhere. The diktat from on high is plainly to laugh off the scandal, to treat it with amused patience. News International's many critics are not the enemy: they are source material for knowing giggles. Which brings us straight to AA Gill.

Dispatching him to review the parliamentary select committee's bungled inquisition of the Murdochs was a clever move. Such is Adrian's unstoppable eye for physical imperfection, he could mirth up Treblinka. Tom Watson, we are reminded, claimed £4,800-worth of food exes in one year (cue fattist joke); and the committee chairman's reaction to the pie splat was the 'horrified demeanour of a dowager duchess who has discovered a naked Zulu in her bath.' Ah yes, a naked Zulu. Foreign.

None of this gentle knockabout will have exacerbated reader-hernias, but the branded (ie Gill-ish) comic intention, harnessed to a practised prose power, was sufficient to maintain a virtual smirk. More to the point, this souffle propaganda posed no threat to Gill's long-term contract with the paper.

Close by was Adrian's pal Jeremy Clarkson who has already told readers that one of his best friends is Rebekah Brooks. Buried in his usual auto-throwaway shtick was his take on Hackgate: 'The people who knew the person who once met someone at a party who may or may not have illegally listened to Sienna Miller making a hair appointment.' Giggles! Renew that man's contract!

Over on the next page, an interview with Chipping Norton resident Alex James by Giles Hattersley lay in wait. Young Giles kicked off about Hackgate's Chipping Norton set - 'The Camerons, Rebekah Brooks and the junior Murdochs, all hanging out in the Cotswolds, being fabulous and powerful in... honey-coloured homes.' Y'know, bit like Dallas, but with the oil flowing copiously at Wapping. This was mild court foolery, licensed, liveried impudence. Yet the Sun would never have permitted it.

Boldest of all the gigglers was the anonymous author of the Wendi Deng profile, the 'Crouching tiger, hidden big hitter'. She was described as the 'quietly dutiful wife of Rupert Murdoch'; and readers of Private Eye's latest Murdoch pisstake, featuring Wendi and her reputed Anglo-Chinese joke pronunciation, will be interested to learn that she does indeed call Rupert 'Lupert'. Irksome pre-marital gossip was rehashed; even Murdoch's hostile biographer Michael Wolff got quoted without insulting epithet. We were told that the old man's habit of banging the table as he talks 'must get on [Wendi's] nerves at the breakfast table'. I don't doubt it.

Certainly the ST's Hackgate damage limitation strategy is cleverer than the Sun's, but then the market's different. A well-informed readership wouldn't tolerate express attempts to justify, extenuate or downplay journalistic illegalities. Instead, we get the worldly yawn veiled in toothless irreverence, the 'Oh yah, yah. Next!' treatment. The emperor's nakedness is observed without drama; the sense of a passing fuss about nothing in particular is implied in sundry asides. A case of hoped-for Hackgate death by wisecrack.

Put another way, the gigglers made their own case for the abandonment of press self-regulation. Pronto.

Jonnie Marbles and and his pie-eyed Murdoch tweets

After Murdoch R's marvellous Young Mr Grace act (of Are You being Served? fame) at the select committee hearing today, it was entirely in keeping with the theatrical atmosphere that an idiotic anarchist comedian called Jonnie Marbles should do his bit to turn Wendi Deng into an action hero. I'm going to ask her to guest-edit this blog. You need sharp reflexes in this job and a fearless approach to retribution.

Mr Marbles is of course on Twitter (@JonnieMarbles) and the tweeted build up to his shaving cream pie assault on Rupes is riveting:

 'The queue for the select committee is already 50 people long. It's like a shit festival.'

'Apparently, if you keep your souvenir Select Committee wristband, you get a free beer next time Murdoch gives evidence.'

'The SWP have arrived. Bloody protesters'.

'Rupert Murdoch appears to be going senile.'

'One gets the sense that they haven't really done the required reading ahead of their presentation. Think they may fail this module.'

'It is a far better thing that I do now than I have ever done before #splat.'

@ExNOTWjourno2: Mystery 'M' of Twitter who knows all about News International

Who is the mysterious @ExNOTWjourno2 who has been dropping prophetic cryptic clues on Twitter about the phone hacking scandal? I have no idea. But having once been myself an anonymous supplier of juicy nuggets, who fooled hundreds of gullible London hacks by dint of intimidating talent, I cannot but be intrigued. 'She' answers to Marie and signs off as M. So we're looking for a man who likes Sudoku.

Her bio reads: 'Journalist @ NOTW for last 5 years. Axed to save skin of Rebekah Brooks! Enough Is Enough Of This Horse Sh#t !'

'What is the Colour Of Justice?' she tweeted around 10am today. This afternoon we heard the news that the boss of Orange had resigned. Could Hackgate (and justice hue) have something to do with Orange? Enjoy the game if it's not a con!

Some tweeters claim that M with her capitalised clues has anticipated many of the major happenings in the unfolding scandal. She claims to be on a revenge mission ever since the Murdochs shut down the News of the World and made her redundant. Apparently she declined to sign a gagging order yet it's news to me that redundancy offers have been made to ex-staff. I could be wrong.

The news today that Hackgate whistle-blower, and former Screws showbiz hack, Sean Hoare, has been found dead in his home in un-suspicious circumstances, prompted M to write: 'RIP Sean.. Now i'm really going to go for the jugular... I Don't Feel I Can Continue.. Sean would want me too... This isn't right possums. This situation has spiralled out of control. I will ensure the people behind this pay.'

Of the select committee inquisition due, she growls: 'I have a front row seat for tomorrow possums.. It's going to [sic] ad a bloodbath. NI thwarted the first investigation.'

Another prediction? 'It's Only Monday.. You wait until Thursday.' I'm not sure Madame Arcati can take much more excitement.

Rupert Murdoch sexes it up for gerontophiles: The elder as harried quarry

Rupert Murdoch

The still-potent elderly media villain is a rare creature of celebrity. Periodically, the grim mugshot of yet another suspected doddery octogenarian Nazi war criminal (or Hugh Hefner) graces our media pages and screens, but in the main we are simply not accustomed to the sight of an ancient elder being set upon by baying hacks and paps on our city streets for crimes allegedly committed in our lifetime.

For this is the lot of Rupert Murdoch, 80. As the phone hacking scandal mushrooms on various Bikini Atolls here and abroad, Rupert finds himself alone in the genre marked Media Harried Quarry. What stands him apart from, say, Lady Gaga, Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge, Jonathan King and the many other magnets of media screaming hunting parties, is his sheer age. The deep facial furrows, the fried bacon eyelids, the tufted pate, the faintly rolling gait of the faintlier unsteady - I note the blonde personal trainer and concede he can jog upright - yes, all these mark him out as special, if not unique, in the iconography of... the Media Harried Quarry.

Part of the reason for this latest polish to his celebrity is his failure to die. By 80, apparently, few of us are fit for anything much. If a person dies aged 80 we say, 'Mmm, not a bad time to go.' Eighty is about 15 years since usual retirement age (for men in the UK); about 20 years if you're a UK female. If a sports journalist managed to reach 80 in post we would cast doubt on the competence of Human Resources at his/her publication. This is not how things should be, just how they are.

For Rupert to get to 80 while still running his multi-national, multi-media empire is in itself an extraordinary thing.

So for him to metamorphose into Public Enemy Number One and to have ghastly journalists a third of his age waving their notebooks and dictaphones under his nose, actually running after him when he has plainly waved them off en route to the gas-guzzling company four-wheel drive; bellowing questions and demanding answers (pause for breath, dearies) - well, this is an event worthy of memorialising.

Welcome to the still-potent elderly media villain on our bustling streets; on our TV screens. Ready yourself for the sight of other rogues of advanced vintage pursued by the hacks and paps. I sense a new fashion! Unwittingly and unwillingly, Rupert has broadened our view of what can be achieved at 80. Old age is now no barrier to the media persecution of non-Nazis (or of Rebekah's elderly sink estate paedos). Once again he has proved his pioneering spirit.

Thank you, Rupert.

Clemency Jopling and her erotic musings on Rupert Murdoch

Clemency Jopling of yesteryear

Delighted to see that the erotic fiction author Clemency Jopling has set up a blog called Clemency Jopling's Erotic Jottings: she vows to write 'about anything erotic that seems likely to amuse, arouse, or interest the reader.'

In dubious fulfilment of this promise, she naturally name-drops the less-than-nubile Madame Arcati in a posting on the Dignitas pin-up model Rupert Murdoch. Apparently I am a 'scarred and grizzled' veteran of Fleet Street - even if finding one wrinkle on my moist flesh would challenge the talents of the late hawk-eyed Helena Rubenstein - which I think may be misrepresenting my varied background. Like a humming bird I have dipped my beak in many a career bloom so that versatility is my key quality.

In her next work of fiction, she may wish to focus on a passionate liaison, that transgressively crosses the age divide, between an 80 year-old media mogul and his worshipful, flame-haired CEO, 40-something. The trauma of ED might be highlighted in graphic scenes of phone hacking vacuum pumping.

Those unfamiliar with Clemency's oeuvre may wish to immerse - Amazon. Her titles include Mr Biddulph Sees a Ghost (The Erotic Adventures of Mr Biddulph) and Mrs Smith's Academy IV: Zuleika's Correction.

Rupert Murdoch arrested: the words we dare not speak for some reason

The end of the News of the World: let me savour those beautiful words. Allow me to roll those delicious vowels and consonants over my tongue. Never did I imagine Madame Arcati would outlive the corrupt farrago that became the Screws. Of course, the Sun on Sunday, or some such, will serve as replacement, though its SOS acronym is perhaps too ironic to prevail.

Rupert Murdoch is lauded for his dark genius in pressing the nuclear option and distracting us for a few seconds as we mouth silent shock-horrors and wonder what will happen to Carole Malone and her 'hell' tropes. This is not genius but guile, though I must admit he caught me and the rest on the hop.

Actually his true genius is more subtle, entirely mercurial and located in an omission. We debate the heinousness of his past editors and journalists without ever entertaining the idea that he, Murdoch himself, should be arrested, tried, and if convicted, jailed. Every line of police inquiry should not end just at the point of executive control of corruption - such as with the Andy Coulsons or Rebecca Brookses - but should journey on to the fount, the inspiration - to the baby factory of journalistic nightmare. To Rupert.

Book after book by ex-Murdoch editors chronicle the same story: of a bullying, manipulative proprietor ever pushing back the boundaries of decency and legality in his Borg-like mission to reduce the world to a mindless form of voluntary moronism, with programme guides. Rebecca Wade nee Brooks became what we see today by imitation of her boss. She and others translated his desires via practical, modern-day methods. Did he ever give any thought to how stories were obtained as he licked his cash-fingers? The DNA of this hideous chapter in British journalism may be traced to Old Rupes and what he expected by way of results.

What he knew or didn't know precisely is neither here nor there. He was happy to shovel the profits even when, as years ago, he knew something was up. Now with his usual ruthlessness he dumps 200 staff on a heap. Some will make it to SOS of course.

But he remains at large.

Rebekah Brooks and Milly Dowler: Simple, just apply the Sharon Shoesmith test

The matter of Rebekah Brooks, chief executive of News International's UK ops, and what as editor of The News of the World in 2002 she may or may not, or ought to, have known about the Milly Dowler phone hacking outrage, bears an uncanny resemblance to the matter of former Haringey boss Sharon Shoesmith and what she knew or ought to have known about Baby P.

Brooks, nee Wade as editor of The Sun in 2007, was merciless in her persecution of Shoesmith, holding her to account because she was a highly paid executive presiding over a tax-funded, dysfunctional children's service. Personal knowledge was an irrelevance. In a fateful twist that involves a child-victim, Brooks now finds herself in a not dissimilar situation, trying to save herself by making a virtue of her ignorance when she presided over what was plainly a dysfunctional newspaper.

Surely, in deciding whether Brooks go now, or when she's pregnant next year (see the current Private Eye for more), we should apply the principle she championed against Shoesmith: take personal responsibility because she was there. Like Shoesmith, Brooks was on a huge, perks-fattened salary, in return for her management skills. Indeed, Brooks' salary and perks far exceeded Shoesmith's.

Like Andy Coulson at the Screws, Brooks raised the stakes and imposed a bullying staff culture which made failure a no-option. Cheating was an inevitable consequence of her mindless careerism and pandering to Murdoch. She was happy to take the credit for her newspaper when promotion was dangled before her, but not the debit when disgrace is the alternative.

So Rebekah, practise what you preached against poor old Shazza.

The Sun makes up a story to suit a headline (so what's new?)

"10.7m Brits Don't Work (Including the ex-Prime Minister who helped to put them there)," screeches a Sun headline on page 2. Really? Brown is still MP for Kirkcaldy and Cowdenbeath on a basic annual salary of £64,857.85. As confirmed by the Sun on page 9. Goodness knows what Rupert makes of it all.

Oh, and Rupert's authorisation that Brown fucks off to run the IMF may be ignored.

What's this about a Rupert Murdoch marriage split?

I've read nothing about it in the Murdoch papers, can't imagine why. Personally I think the pair should go their separate ways to please Rupes' mother Dame Elisabeth, aged 101 shortly. She never liked his third missus Wendi Deng. The story first broke in Australia - here. And still no news on the missing Simon Cowell Times article: I do hope no one imagines Murdoch rules the world. Vote for the Tories and you vote for the foreigner Murdoch's continued undemocratic hold on Westminster.

If you find yourself in Australia, do visit Dame Elisabeth's delightful open gardens at her Cruden Farm in Victoria: unfortunately she cancelled a load of promo interviews lately, perhaps because of her son's obvious marital difficulties.

£800,000 for journalist bullied by Andy Coulson - now the Tories' top spin doctor

The News of the World reporter who was bullied by former editor Andy Coulson and his staff side-kicks has been awarded nearly £800,000 for unfair dismissal and disability discrimination by an east London employment tribunal.

Matt Driscoll will pick up a record £792,736 from Murdoch's News International which with legal costs stands to lose over a £1 million on this case alone.

The tribunal found that Driscoll had been subject to "a consistent pattern of bullying behaviour". "The original source of the hostility towards the claimant [Driscoll] was Mr Coulson ... ". The Guardian reports, "The judgment singled out Coulson for making 'bullying' remarks in an email to Driscoll after the first formal warning, letting him know that he thought he should have been sacked."

Madame Arcati has long campaigned to raise the profile of this case, long after other media went silent. Coulson is the Conservative Party's top spin doctor. Despite Tory pledges to fight bullying in all its forms, Cameron has clung onto Coulson - and no doubt an absence of a media clamour for Coulson's removal will be a comfort. Bullying is the common coin of newspapers. The culture of newspapers promotes bullying. The attributes of the bully are required for editorial preferment.

Ironically, last Sunday, the News of the World went big on its own anti-bullying campaign (schools only, natch) - how hollow that looks now. The Screws these days is an archaic spectacle - a tawdry palace of hypocrites and liars, sad middleclass hacks at a chav masquerade as they clamber and shit all over each other in their prefab open-plan coop. I can't think of a more disgusting publication.

As for Coulson - go! The People needs you! More at Bullying UK.

National newspapers' conspiracy of silence over this payout, click here

The News of the World: So, what about Coulson?

The News of the World rightly makes a fuss about Prince Harry using racist terms such as "Paki" and "raghead". It's good to see that a newspaper, whose owner Rupert Murdoch thinks Muslims are "inferior", can rise above proprietorial prejudice and nail a social evil.

Now that it has set such a good example, perhaps it would like to turn its attention to another social evil. The Conservative Party's director of communications, Andy Coulson, was recently found by an employment tribunal to have presided over a "culture of bullying" at his previous place of employment. His conduct made one reporter's life a misery. He has not publicly denied misconduct. To date, no anti-bullying organisation, no periodical that I know of (Private Eye aside), and certainly no Tory, has condemned or questioned his behaviour. Coulson would appear to be inviolable. Is it that bullying is not regarded as serious as racism? Are we picking and choosing social evils according to circulation value?

The fact that Coulson's last job was the editorship of the News of the World shouldn't put the paper off.

Rupert Murdoch: 'Muslims are genetically inferior'

Michael Wolff's forthcoming biography of Rupert Murdoch, The Man Who Owns the News, reveals that the News Corp boss believes that Muslims are genetically inferior because they marry cousins. I suppose Rebekah Wade has no option but to agree.

Rebekah Wade - You vill vear definable collars!

Someone at the Sun has forwarded me an email from editor Rebekah Wade upbraiding her scurvy staff for their lack of sartorial style. "You vill not vear jeans, boots or T-shirts," she screams. "You vill vear shirts with definable collars, nice frocks - see a Top Shop window display for inspiration." (It is true I have just embellished the detail here but I have captured the spirit of her message: I know how literal some of you are) Rebekah likes to use grown-up words like "monetise" because she's going up to management soon and then Dominic can take over properly and get the editor's salary he richly deserves.

Rupert Murdoch, Beliefnet and Pet Semetry

Heart-lifting news that the Old Scrote Rupert Murdoch has bought Beliefnet, an all-in religions site that promotes spirituality (cue lots of psychic phoneline skyscraper ads).

Driven perhaps by the sad news that the late Leona Helmsley’s pooch Trouble – left $12m in her will and subsisting on $300,000 a year – has become unwell on all the rich food, I am drawn to Beliefnet’s "Inspiring Pets Who Have Passed Away" section wherein readers find their voice in loving memory.

Meet Spirit the parakeet who passed away in October 2006 in his owner’s hands, or Hershey the Cockapoo who once saved his owner husband’s life during a diabetic low. There’s Bud the cat who seems to have enjoyed a telepathic link with his owner. My favourite story is of Rosita the little Chihuahua. The owner Carol relates: “Rosita accompanied Billy [her husband] to the hospital with him, riding on his belly as he was taken to the lab, to the X-ray room, and to Nuke-med. I can only imagine how much comfort she was to him when he died; she was at the funeral, too.” Many of the pets profiled have yet to pass away or perhaps there was a change in editorial policy.

Naturally, Islam has its own sub-site – and I think we can safely predict that from now on the Old Scrote will be softening his view on Muslims. Why, it was only last year that he told The New Yorker: “We keep having to speak politically correctly about it, saying Muslims are wonderful, it’s just a tiny minority. They are not all terrorists, of course, but the frightening thing is that it is the children of those good original immigrants who are being brainwashed in big numbers."

Beliefnet, click here

Rupert Murdoch finds his writerly Riefenstahl

A few weeks ago I joked that Michael Wolff's recent Vanity Fair piece on Rupert Murdoch read like a job application. How psychic of me! Now I learn, belatedly it must be said, that Wolff has landed a great gig - writing Murdoch's biography for about £750k. Rupes will have crumpled his creped mug into what some might call a wry smile at Wolff's little piece of adjectivally-enhanced hagiography - or penetrative arse-licking to give it its proper term. No wonder our age's leading Islamophobe is happy to cooperate in the birth of a semi-authorised apologia. Wolff has a child in the employ of Rupes by the way - a useful hostage on the perilous march to 2009 publication.

Earlier Wolff piece click here

Murdochs on Facebook - hardly gossip, darling

Another sweety-pops friend of the Cult of Arcati writes to point out a little tardiness in the Observer's gossip column apropos Facebook and the presence of a nest of MySpace-owning Murdochs thereon ...

Greetings, Madame!

I hope this finds you well.

Just a small thing, but irritating... The Observer's Pendennis, Oliver Marre, is incredibly pleased with himself today, since he is 'able to reveal' that Rupert Murdoch's daughter, Elizabeth, 'is the latest member of the family to have signed up to the Facebook online networking website.' This comes on the back of his previous 'revelation', not long ago, that Lachlan and Sarah Murdoch had joined Facebook, despite Lachlan's pater having shelled out tens of millions to buy up Myspace.

Dear Oli really is slow off the mark. My own casual Facebook trawlings back in June - via the basic search function that absolutely anybody can use - showed that all three of the afore-mentioned Murdochs were active members back then; I was surprised that the amusing Facebook/Myspace conflict of familial interest hadn't already been picked up. Matthew Freud's full Facebook profile is publicly viewable, and his news feed shows that his lovely wife sent him a lipstick kiss on June 26, with the message 'From me to you. xxxx' So much for her having just joined, and so much for Marre's electrifying research skills.

Oh, and he doesn't even spell her name correctly. As Ms Minnelli might have put it: it's Elisabeth - with an 's', not a 'z'.

Very best

Sir ...[initial withheld]

PS: A noticeable lack of heartwarming family anecdotes, and mentions of 'the Husband' (previously a regular cast member), in Allison Pearson's columns of late. Absolutely zilch, actually. Wonder why?

Dear Sir ....

Thank you for these observations. Allison is a devoted reader of Arcati and has wisely adapted to public knowledge of her domestic arrangements. I am still awaiting an invitation to her wedding; a Christian one it is to be hoped ...

Best wishes MA x

Rupert Murdoch is a genocidal tyrant - poll

Yes, it's official - 56% of you think Rupes is a genocidal tyrant! Rupes complained recently that the international media wrote of him as if he were a "genocidal tyrant" as he besieged the Wall Street Journal. Naturally, Arcati polled her people. And 21% of you think he is Madame Arcati (sooooooooo foolish) while only 1% of you think he is Lord Lucan - very sensible.

I'm wondering whether to ask what he comes when he's humping Wendi:
- Dust
- Acid
- Shampoo