Cops seize Putin/Obama cock painting ahead of G20 summit

Vera Donskaya-Khilko's Wrestling

Russia's descent into homophobic fantasy finds many different forms, the latest being the police seizure of this painting from an erotic museum in St Petersburg. Artist Vera Donskaya-Khilko's Wrestling depicts Putin and Obama engaged in a manly preening battle of exaggerated phalli - actually, just about everything in the work boasts an oversized cock or is an oversized cock. According to The Art Newspaper (click link for full story), the police raid occurred ahead of the recent G20 summit - which sounds a good excuse to remove from sight anything that does not meet with the approval of the ludicrous muscle Mary presently running Russia.

On the other hand, Blogger, run by Google, does not like depictions of cock either. So, choose your favourite censor.

Duncan Fallowell and his Platinum Peepshow movie

Which reminds me, I must make some videos to promote moi. Meanwhile, Libran Arcatiste Duncan Fallowell (or Lad F, as I may start to call him) has posted this self-advertisement on YouTube for his upcoming Platinum Peepshow - described in his Wikipedia entry as "a second collection of profiles and commentaries...on the subject of art, fashion and entertainment."

The Peepshow vid washes the brain with images galore pertinent to Lad F's slebby career encounters and cultural interests. Gilbert & George, Lulu (I think), Bowie, royalty, bloody-nosed Jay Kay and all sorts of other whatsname detrital meme resonances. Warhol would have loved it - especially the monotonous electronic drum beat.

I really do think it's time BBC4 commissioned a special fly-on-the-wall portrait of Duncan - of two hours duration at least! It would have to involve some sort of journey - Brecqhou perhaps or a return to Gozo (actually, Venice would be perfection - a major assault on brochure dreams by a jealous lover, Lad F himself). In his youthful dotage, DF finally has proper, grown-up recognition (having won the prestigious, literary PEN/Ackerley Prize last year for How to Disappear: A Memoir for Misfits - now out in paperback, Kindle and other formats) and his worldly drawl would snap up new fans in an instant. 

Anyway, watch the video - it's just a minute or two long.

PayPal - still stuck in the Diamond Jubilee

Paypal invites me to learn about attracting more customers from Europe - the link takes me to an article which begins, bang on the moment: "2012 is a huge year for the UK with the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee and the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games taking place over the next few months. Both events are expected to bring millions of visitors to the UK, along with billions more TV viewers." 

How could I have missed it all?

Will US strike Syria? I look at the astrology

A number of you have emailed me about the astrology of the US/Syria situation. Will the US attack? Astrology is not about inevitabilities but trends and likelihoods. So here’s my analysis in plain English – with footnotes for fellow astrologers.

In the week of September 9, the US Congress will be asked to back President Obama’s proposed military action against Syria. I have chosen September 9th for this forecast because this marks the first day of the US government’s debate. I looked at three natal-transits charts: Syria’s, the US’s and Obama’s. All three charts suggest a likelihood of US military action against Syria.

Syria (1 January 1944, midnight, Damascus)

On the 9^th, violent and disruptive energies are present.[1] Actions decided on between September 9 and 11[2] will have the quality of violence with a transformative effect – whether this happens days or weeks or months later. The action is aimed squarely at the governing power[3]. At the same time, there is a major indication that power is exerted over the governing authority in some shape or form – and this indicator remains valid to October 29[4]: it therefore may be the case that Syria is subjected to external attack by a foreign state – this is one of a number of possible scenarios. The Syrian government is nonetheless confident, even smug – this could be because of perceived successes or misjudgement – or a miscalculation.[5]

US (4 July 1776, 5:10 pm, Philadelphia)

On and around the 9^th, the US chart reflects an instinct to act on high principle[6]. There’s a sense of ‘social duty’ and of public/media debate involving government.[7] And there’s a high likelihood of a decision to take military action.[8] The focus of this action is another country (or ‘abroad’).[9] From September 16, the risk of military action increases.[10] However the legality or constitutional justification appears confused.[11] If the congressional debate is not finalised before September 13 (Friday), there’s a chance the US will decide against war.[12] So, Obama is less likely to win support the later in the week a congressional decision is made.

Obama (4 August 1961, 7:24 pm, Honolulu)
On or around the 9^th, Obama is under tremendous strain and possible criticism. Actions can be thwarted or questioned – some sort of deception cannot be ruled out.[13] But by the next week, the 16^th onwards, Obama appears to be in much more energised form – the planets support a war-like identity in this time.[14] The weekend of September 14-15 also could be crucial for decisions related to military action.[15]

For Obama the challenge is to make real a principle or ‘dream’.[16] At worst, there is likely to be confusion between fact and fantasy and the challenge to make clear what is murky or concealed. At best, law and clarity can be applied to an area of chaos – the area identified as foreign by house position.[17] However, the triggering of a chaotic indicator in the chart is an unfortunate development, suggesting a debilitating period ahead for Obama, especially if he’s acting on misinformation or against government wishes.[18]

What can't be ruled out is that Obama launches a military strike against Syria without Congress' approval.

---

[1] Tr Mars conjunct natal Pluto in Leo in 10^th

[2] Above conjunction in orb

[3] 10^th house

[4] Tr Pluto conjunct natal Sun in Capricorn in 3^rd

[5] Tr Jupiter conjunct natal MC in 10^th

[6] Tr Mars in Leo on natal True Node in Leo

[7] Tr Mercury conjunct Midheaven

[8] Tr Mars sextile natal Uranus

[9] Natal Uranus on descendant

[10] Tr Mars ingresses 9^th house (Equal House)

[11] Tr Saturn inconjunct natal Uranus

[12] Tr Sun conjunct Neptune in 10^th (Sept 14-16)

[13] Tr Mars square natal Neptune

[14] Tr Mars conjunct Sun

[15] Tr Sun conjunct natal Mars

[16] Tr Saturn conjunct Neptune in 9^th

[17] 9^th

[18] Natal Neptune in 9^th

Liz Jones 'airbrushed' out of Marie Claire's history: tsk

Liz Jones

Now that Liz Jones is my fiancee - this may be news to her, but that's none of her business - I have to communicate my distress over Marie Claire's treatment of its former editor. Today, in the Mail on Sunday, she tells her followers that the magazine has 'airbrushed' her 'into oblivion... Stalin fashion'. Its UK quarter-century birthday issue fails to make any mention of her in a piece about its 'powerhouse' past editors, starting with Glenda Bailey, who once helped raise sales with a supplement featuring hundreds of disembodied penises. 

Liz writes:

'Makes you wonder what other hard facts of life have been erased in this strange celebration of the magazine’s championing of ‘real women’... I despair that the current incumbent as editor, Trish Halpin, didn’t have the balls to explain her decision to airbrush her magazine’s history. Can we ever believe a word she says again.' 

Apparently, Liz had been booked to do an interview for the celebratory piece. But then she blew it with the serialisation of her memoir in the Mail which made claims of Marie Claire's less than admirable commitment to staffers who take maternity leave, among other things. On the day the serialisation appeared, Liz received an email from the magazine: the editor and art 'director' had 'rethought' the feature and wouldn't be going ahead - but any travel expenses would be reimbursed.

This is no way to treat a high profile former editor who was always going to amplify a slight via the good offices of Britain's leading Middle England newspaper. What was Trish thinking? Trish, I see, is on Twitter but has yet to tweet anything to her 1500+ followers. I really don't see the point of tweetless Twitter accounts. Do you? Such silence is the media equivalent of celibacy and should not be encouraged. Look what celibacy turned Catholic priests into.

I know from bitter experience that glossy magazines find it hard to cope with contention. But a magazine that can deify cock should surely be able to embrace Liz.

Review: The Mitford Girls' Guide to Life by Lyndsy Spence

Quite the most delightful book release of the season is Lyndsy Spence's The Mitford Girls' Guide to Life. Each afternoon these past few days, at around three, I revived the gilt-rimmed bone china, poured Darjeeling (lemon no milk), nibbled digestives (but no dunking) - a faintly-quaintly sensurround of this kind is recommended for added enjoyment of the book - and lapped up the wisdom filleted from the extraordinary lives of the six aristocratic sisters, aka the Mitford Girls.

As 4,000 One Direction fans fill Leicester Square (as I write) for the boy band's film premier, what could these poor screaming wretches learn, say, from the chapter, Fan Devotion: A Cautionary Tale? Unity Mitford's adoration of Hitler provides the lesson. 'When one sits behind him,' she noted of Hitler, 'it's like sitting beside the sun. He gives out rays or something.' To fanatical Directioners - as One Direction fans are termed - Spence might offer this advice, based on Unity's sly stalking of the Führer: 'Don't rush head first into an encounter with your idol as this will label you as another fan. Edge your way in slowly and discreetly.' 

Play your cards right and you, too, could end up as Mrs Harry Styles.

There is no end of advice on all range of activity. Letter-writing the Mitford way? 'If you are sick, make a conscious effort to bake the letter in the oven as this will kill any lingering germs.' However, 'if you dislike the person you are writing to, by all means feel free to send the germs as well as your love.'

And should you desire to run away, as Leftie Jessica did, this nugget shines among many others: 'Open a bank account as soon as possible.'

Prepare to enter a world with its own language. 'Farve' and 'Muv' are translatable - Farve, by the way, could not abide jam running down the side of the jar. 'Wondair' is rather baffling. Does it mean 'wonderful'? Well you'll have to read the book. There are 'Hons' and 'Counter-Hons'. Beyond the cod advice, Spence immerses us in Mitford miscellanea. Muv, for instance, is buried unembalmed in Swinbrook, Oxfordshire. Not wondair!

This is a clever book indeed. Its self-help pose could herald the start of a whole series of books which turn celebrity lives into bullet-pointed parables, without the tiresome linear corset of traditional biography, birth to death to seance. At the same time, this new tribute genre permits author and reader a good biscuity wallow in the adored life. Fact and goss are savoured, played with, re-presented. If I didn't know better, I would say Lyndsy Spence - who bears an uncanny resemblance to Katie McGrath's Morgana in BBC series Merlin - must be some kind of benign stalker, the fan who will not boil the bunny, drawn to glamorous enclaves for a painless poke around.

The Mitford Girls' Guide to Life tickled me from start to end. And Madame is not easily tickled.

The Mitford Girls' Guide to Life can be bought here.

Madame Arcati's interview with Lyndsy Spence, here.

William Cash - one of the WI pensioners bites back

Cool reception: The Gatehouse, Upton Cressett Hall, Shropshire

Further to my post yesterday on the banning of a Women's Institute branch from William Cash's Grade 1 Elizabethan moated manor house in Shropshire, Upton Cressett Hall - he escorted 27 pensioners off the premises after one of them asked to take a leak - an anonymous fan (of mine) has drawn my attention to further distressing developments pertaining to William's gorgeous home.

For I see that on Trip Advisor, Upton Cressett Hall is uniformly trashed by six reviewers purporting to have visited the mediaeval property. 'Unbelievable arrogance and greed. Such a pity, with some forethought and consideration this could be a most enjoyable visit. 5 stars for the Romanian lady who served tea and cake,' writes one Terence James of Shrewsbury.

Another appears to respond to the infamous episode of early August during which he ejected the 27 WI pensioners. Cathy writes:

'Well our local ladies group had a fun afternoon as Mr Cash is totally disorganised and has a very short fuse. He'd booked in 2 groups by mistake. The outside loos were locked and he didn't have the key, and disaster struck when another visitor went to use the loo in the house and shut the front door - everyone locked out! He lost his cool and ranted threatening to cancel the tour. eventually he or his staff got in through an open window. We had our tea and cake then a tour of 3 rooms - very disappointing. We were then treated to Mr Cash having a discussion with ladies from the other group which turned into him yelling and shouting at them to leave and he forcibly ejected them from the property! Not his finest hour and we certainly would not recommend this.'

Oh dear. Perhaps William should stick to journalism where 'yelling and shouting' are at least a time-honoured tradition.

To read other reviews of Upton Cressett Hall, click here.

To visit Upton Cressett Hall, click here.

Listen to William describe his home, click here.

To read my post on how William threw out the pensioners, click here.

William Cash bans 27 WI pensioners from home over loo row

Upton Cressett Hall in Shropshire

It has been ages since I wrote of the poppetiest of the Arcati poppets, William Cash. To be brutally honest, when I warm to someone I tend to lose interest. The thaw began after the odd Twitter exchange with his former second wife Dr Vanessa Neumann - usually described as the 'glamorous, intellectual Venezuelan fire-cracker who once dated Mick Jagger'. William has given the world many laughs - usually because of the unintended consequences of his extraordinary obsession with life's baubles. But at least he has turned this amour into an editorial expression with Spear's - 'the essential resource for high net worths.' (Or put simply, not you, probably)

You may not know this, but these days the poppet lives in a rather grand Grade 1 Elizabethan brick manor called Upton Cressett Hall in Shropshire. Its history is a roll call of royals, dukes and others with the hereditary X factor. One of its owner-occupiers contributed to the Armada Fund in 1588, for instance. And one of its bedrooms is named after Baroness Thatcher! 

Much to my amazement, parts of the property are open to the public. Which brings me to the saddest tale of the season.

William maintains a blog on a website dedicated to his home. And the latest post is entitled, 'Why I banned the Women's Institute from Upton Cressett'. It is a narrative of woe you must read if you have half an hour to spare - it's rather long. But compelling. I won't bore you with the he-saids/she-saids, suffice to say that an 'owner tour' disintegrated into farce when William came to blows with a branch of the visiting WI.

Problems began one early August day this year when a floral-skirted old cunty dared to address him as 'staff' and demanded to know where the toilets were. There are none. Now, I should have thought a public convenience essential in a place open to the public and where they tend to drink tea and eat scones. William was taken aback. But he recovered and pointed to a private 'loo under the stairs.' Following more peculiar antagonism, at some point everyone was accidentally locked out of the Hall and William threw a strop, banning all 27 members of one WI branch at a stroke. He even escorted them ('mostly white haired pensioners in summer suits or sixty plus blue-rinse members of the jam-making and Order of the WI Battle-Axe variety.') to the car park.

William is sufficiently self-possessed to spot his inner Basil Fawlty and send himself up a little. But I mean, where's his, er, famed noblesse oblige?

To read William's blog, click here

Eric Joyce MP - the abstract painting that created the fuss

The recent fuss about Eric Joyce MP and his tigressy moll India Knight stirred up some media confusion. The wonderful artist M.K. Hajdin has revealed that she produced two artworks of or for the lively MP for Falkirk - one a literalist sketch, the other an abstract landscape.

Now, the abstract landscape is immediately below - the version India was rude about. Plainly she is no art critic. Then again, she doesn't claim to be Brian Sewell - can you imagine her immersing her arse in the sea as Brian once did on TV, nude? Frankly, Eric should return the abstract 'gift' to M.K. in my opinion. She claims he helped colour the work - he insisted on more red. M.K. writes on her site:  'Halfway through [painting], Joyce said it wasn’t red enough, so I had to add a lot more red and adjust all of the other colors.  It’s got more red in it than I’d use, normally, but that’s what he wanted.'



Artist Rachel Mai says in her critique of the abstract: 'It seems to describe a rather materialistic personality of someone who has little communication between his conscious and his sub/ unconscious minds. Red, the base chakra, works for groundedness, prosperity and success. Hence for the Chinese, red is their "lucky colour". However, it is not usually considered an elevated colour for the aura and having a lot of it can indicate a base consciousness.' Rachel's Facebook page is here.

And this is M.K.'s sketch of Eric:

Gore Vidal, Fred Astaire and the cock size question

Will Gore Vidal be remembered 50 years from now? I doubt it. Myra Breckinridge will, by 2063, be a forgotten contribution to a vast library of late 20th century transgressive fiction. Vidal's first gay novel The City & The Pillar - a bold work of juvenilia for 1948 - is already just italics. No one reads it. The historical novels? See the fate of Barbara Cartland's oeuvre. The scintillating essays? See last season's collections with front row Anna in her shades: instant period pieces. In other words, Vidal surfed the earthly moments splendidly but left no timeless time-capsules. 

However, Vidal fans can cling to one hope for his immortality - he could survive in time's freezer as a case study. He fucked thousands, mainly other men. Rampant cockery and cuntery have their own heroes - or case studies. I won't name them; google 'em. Now, this November, a new book is released which examines the extent of Vidal's cockery. Penned by someone called Tim Teeman, it's titled In Bed With Gore Vidal: Hustlers, Hollywood and the Private World of an American Master and promises to be 'explosive'. That's a publishing word for 'sex life not shared by publisher'. Readers may say, as they flick over the kindle pages on the bus, 'How did he find the time?' That's what 'explosive' amounts to these days.

More importantly, did Gore Vidal possess a massive cock? The book will answer this question. But why wait for publication day? Here's the answer Tim offers prematurely:

'One of Vidal’s oldest friends was Scotty Bowers who had sex with, and procured sex for, celebrities including Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy, and Vidal himself. “Gore had a medium-sized cock, seven inches, he looked circumcised but wasn’t,” Bowers recalls. The few times Bowers had sex with Vidal was “pleasant, not mad love.” Vidal was always “on the ball, not bashful or shy, rather aggressive and pushy,” and was “more or less into a quick trick. He did everything sexually: you sucked his cock, he would suck yours, but he preferred to fuck. He was young and hot and sex was rather quick.”' (From the Daily Beast)

I had no idea Gore had sex with Fred Astaire.

There.

Eric Joyce MP portrait - and an odd Knight tale

Sketch of Eric Joyce MP. By  M.K. Hajdin. Reproduced by kind permission

Arcatistes of old will know that I love to showcase the work of original artists. So allow me to introduce you to M. K. Hajdin who, as you can see, sketched the lively MP for Falkirk, Eric Joyce. She tells me that she planned to do a whole series of portraits of MPs. But got stuck at Labour's Shadow Health Secretary Andy Burnham for some reason. Mr Burnham has a pretty little face - perhaps M.K. found it too regular, or something.

I should say there appears to be an odd history to Eric's portrait which has involved his girlfriend, India Knight, the Sunday Times columnist. Because Madame Arcati dislikes unpleasantness, all I can do is refer you to M.K's site, Exiled Stardust. Seemingly, India has written M.K. an email. It begins: "Hello M.K Hadjin, it’s Eric’s partner here. My name is India Knight. I read your Twitter account with increasing alarm. Obviously you’re both not well and horribly lonely. You’re also boring. I have more than once suggested that Eric take out a restraining order, but he seems to pity you."

Did India really write that? It seems incredible.Perhaps all those deplorable Twitter bomb threats have got to her. Or the letter was written by someone else. But, still. Let's pass over this unfortunate episode and enjoy M.K.'s work.

PS The London Evening Standard has followed up this story - here.

Hilary Gialerakis: After the Vaselined big one, the sale!

Ash Wednesday (The Lady
and the Leopards) by Hilary
Gialerakis. Photography by
Roger Smith

Was it really five years ago that I ran a piece here titled: 'Hilary Gialerakis: Bullet holes, Brian Sewell and a (Vaselined) big one'? Oh such happy days! You can click the link to read it if you have time. But suffice to say, I drew attention to the acclaimed and exquisite work of the late artist Hilary Gialerakis. I should clarify that Brian Sewell, the crumbling, impotent art critic with the Lady Bracknell drawl and wrinkled buttocks, is not the owner of the Vaselined big one of the title. That's someone else's. Seek enlightenment. Discover!

Drawing 6 by Hilary Gialerakis
Photography by Roger Smith

Anyhow, in 2008, Hilary's daughter Antonia Gialerakis self-published Hilary: An Unquiet Spirit, the artist's edited and at-times outrageous memoir/diaries. And in 2012, the fabled Quartet Books chairman Naim Attallah - whose antennae for celebrated talent rarely fails him - re-published the book. You can order it here.

I am now delighted to announce that Antonia has put on sale a few of her mother's extraordinary modernist (original) drawings/sketches and (prints of her) paintings. These really are collectors' items and worthy investments.

Gialerakis' paintings are exhibited here. And the drawings here. Antonia has also blogged on her book, here.

For price, contact Antonia via the Hilary Gialerakis Facebook page (here).