Monday 4th October 2010

On a Monday normal people are cowering at home.

But not Poor Little Rich Gays. The Multis, those astonishing property- and-company-owning tycoons are hammering at the coal-face. As is Lord Arrowby, that deeply governmental behind-the-scenes fixer, this evening being squired as arm candy (he’s got a fluffy side ) by Rufus Pitman, one of our leading arts figures,  prize-giver and receiver. Robert Nevil, author of the superlative History of the Pony Club, and Sebastian Archer, taste-shaper supreme in his publishing days of a nation’s taste (just back from extensive treatment in New York), are also at large.

They’ve all forged forth this evening, lunging out under fire in their various Mercedes.

Can you believe it? It’s only a week since the Multis stormed the Gauguin Opening at the Tate?

Now it’s the Tate again! The Gala for the Turner Prize AND the launch party at the Serpentine Gallery for Jonathan Franzen’s blockbuster, Freedom.

Rufus Pitman is to hurl both.

And what of me, Adrian Edge? I’m quietly at home, stitching tiny pieces of silk voile onto an Indian cutwork bedspread where it’s torn. And watching ‘Spooks’.

I’ve put a curse on the Franzen party. You’ve heard they had to pulp 80,000 copies? That was me, cursing. 4th Estate are my publishers. I’ve made them money, with my common mega-selling works. But not brainy enough for a literary function. Oh no!

Brains is nice at a function, as Joe Orton would have said.

Robert Nevil has been instructed to re-curse while actually there. I want a full Carabosse.

In the meanwhile, here are the graphs from the Tate. Fresh, straight from the oven. And look who’s there!  Our old friend…

Yes! She's there! At the Tate Gala for the Turner Prize

An Actual Work Surprisingly - at the Tate Gala for the Turner Prize