Thursday, December 19, 2013

AL GOLDSTEIN DIES - R.I.P. - REST IN PUSSY

After some alarming tweets from Penn Jillette, including the news Al Goldstein was "unresponsive and not doing well" at a Brooklyn nursing home, the bad news came today. Al Goldstein has died.

Ironic, that a few years ago he was convalescing in the same V.A. Hospital that Bobby Cole was in. Bobby managed to leave, after a heart episode and return to playing the piano and working nightlubs. Al suffered a stroke, lost weight, and was clearly in declining health over the past year. Even so, he managed from time to time do a few interviews from his hospital bed, and to meet with some of those who still were loyal admirers.

Sure, Al was a publisher…he made a hell of a lot more money than his staff or his freelancers. He showed it off, too, in some maddening ways. The guy had a room in his lavish townhouse that was pretty much a damn store, with a million bucks worth of watches in plastic cases. He was certainly crude, arrogant, exasperating and wrong in his handling of many things, but he also had the humility to be self-effacing and humorous about himself.

Frankly, our paths did not intersect very often. I think I had maybe three conversations with him. He was, in a way, just another of those guys better admired from afar. But what he's left behind IS a legacy, and if he hoped that one day he'd be remembered in the same way as Lenny Bruce, his wishes came true. The New York Times obit was pretty complimentary, and gave him his due.

He is a classic example, to misquote Shakespeare, that "the smutty, repulsive things men do live after them, the merely stupid are just in turds with their bones." Meaning? Meaning that for all his faults, and whether he only intended to make money and get laid or not, Goldstein should be remembered as a freedom fighter, as a guy who literally put his life on the line as he challenged bigots and antisemites and bluenoses, rolled through the courts fighting censorship, earned the praise of cover-story celebs John and Yoko (among others), and helped launch the careers of many artists and writers. Larry Flynt would be nobody without Goldstein. If he hadn't battled Pillsbury, the right to parody a big company may have inhibited other writers and publishers for years. If he hadn't found a way to keep a newspaper going by backpage hooker ads, The Village Voice would have wanly wavered into oblivion years ago.

I could go on, but I just found out about Al's passing, and I did want to get this onto the blog as soon as possible. I was thinking, what kind of tribute song, or songs could I put with this? I was thinking of Chinga Chavin's stuff, but frankly, it ain't revolting enough. Al's great SCREW magazine (actually a weekly tabloid) was loaded with great, gross humor. So, on short notice, here's two from Larry Pierce, a C&W guy who does specialize in, least, Hustler-esque (ie, not urban Jewish) filth.

"Girls were made to Fuck" is about getting caught by Dad while reading a dirty magazine. "Good Hard Fucking" is just a smutty catalog of dirty doings, with a refrain that suggests that kink may be ok, but "good hard fucking" is still best of all.

Here's hoping that if there IS something after death, Al Goldstein is enjoying a part of it. And that his afterlife began by saying to the Grim Reaper, "FUCK YOU!"

GIRLS WERE MADE TO FUCK GIRLS WERE MADE TO FUCK

GOOD HARD FUCKING

John and Yoko reading SCREW. Their interview in SCREW was conducted not by Al, but by his co-founder of SCREW, Jim Buckley. It's in the hardcover "Screw Reader," which was published by Al's maverick colleague, Lyle Stuart.

"There's so much to be angry about, because people are ripped off, the election went to the wrong person, the good guys usually lose and society sucks." AL GOLDSTEIN

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