The following is an excerpt from Paul Krassner's latest book, an expanded edition of his autobiography, "Confessions of a Raving, Unconfined Nut," available only at paulkrassner.com -- where you can see his 20-minute reading at the Winnipeg Comedy Festival -- and on Kindle.
On Thanksgiving Day, 1978, Dick Gregory had been arrested in front of the White House for protesting the lack of human rights in South Africa. Larry Flynt had a premonition that there would be an assassination attempt on Gregory. Flynt contacted him a couple of weeks later, and they became friends. Gregory was now staying at Flynt's mansion in Columbus, helping him change to a vegetarian diet. Flynt had already taken off forty pounds. On the day before the Christmas party, Gregory was in the middle of giving himself an enema when Flynt walked in. According to Gregory, “Larry said, 'Let me tell you about this fantastic guy I've got comin' out, and I don't know what I'm gonna do yet but I just wanna talk with him.' And I said, 'Well, who is it?' He said, 'Paul Krassner.' And I just fell out, and said, 'Are you serious? He's one of the hippest minds in the whole world.' Then he came back and said, 'How long you been knowin' him?' and I told him, 'All through the sixties,' you know. And I said it was a fantastic idea.”
Of course, not everybody felt that way. A corporate executive at the party grabbed me by the collar and said, threateningly, “You're exploiting a very sick man.” I didn't know how long I would last as publisher of Hustler, so when editor Bruce David showed me around the next morning, I began exercising my power immediately. The cover of the April 1978 issue—the one that would not feature a woman – was scheduled to have a teddy bear wearing a negligee. I changed it to an Easter bunny nailed to a crucifix, with a basket of painted eggs toppled over in the foreground, and assigned a staffer to write a piece on “The Commercialization of Easter.” I also went through Larry Flynt's publisher's statement and removed every masculine reference to God. That afternoon, Larry brought me into his office. I didn't know what to expect, but he said that he really liked my cover idea, and he agreed with me that God is genderless. “You know,” he said, “I've always been of a philosophical bent.” Then he gestured toward the wall. “You see these walls? I could make them come tumbling down by sheer willpower.”
“Oh, boy, this is gonna be some job.”
“But I don't wanna misuse my power.”
“Oh, shit, why doesn't anybody ever wanna misuse their power for me? C'mon, Larry, please, just once. . . .”
Flying back to San Francisco, I decided – perhaps foolishly – not to ask him for a contract. If indeed I was exploiting a very sick man, at least I wanted him to be able to fire me as frivolously as he had hired me. Flynt told the Los Angeles Times, “I wanted someone Christ-like. I always felt Lenny Bruce was Christ-like. And Paul was closer to Lenny than Christ. Maybe I can provide Lenny with the last laugh.”
On December 23, while I was spending the Christmas holidays with the Kesey family in Oregon, Larry Flynt's brother, Jimmy, and others were making arrangements to have Flynt locked up and declared insane. They were concerned about his behavior ever since his conversion – Flynt had been flying back and forth across the country, making speeches and deals, buying newspapers and real estate, attending religious revivals and subsidizing religious groups – and they convinced a probate judge to order his arrest and detention for a sanity hearing, not such an easy task since Flynt traveled with bodyguards. Although the judge personally informed the sheriff, and plans for this legal kidnapping were put into effect, the order was withdrawn without explanation on Christmas Eve. Flynt called me in Oregon and invited me to the Bahamas for New Year's. Kesey's daughter, Shannon, was giving him a haircut, stretching out each individual coil and then clipping off the end of it while Kesey – himself a practicing Christian – gave me his farewell blessing: “Christ's plan has a place for pink. All you have to do is lace it with love . .
Paul Krassner
On Thanksgiving Day, 1978, Dick Gregory had been arrested in front of the White House for protesting the lack of human rights in South Africa. Larry Flynt had a premonition that there would be an assassination attempt on Gregory. Flynt contacted him a couple of weeks later, and they became friends. Gregory was now staying at Flynt's mansion in Columbus, helping him change to a vegetarian diet. Flynt had already taken off forty pounds. On the day before the Christmas party, Gregory was in the middle of giving himself an enema when Flynt walked in. According to Gregory, “Larry said, 'Let me tell you about this fantastic guy I've got comin' out, and I don't know what I'm gonna do yet but I just wanna talk with him.' And I said, 'Well, who is it?' He said, 'Paul Krassner.' And I just fell out, and said, 'Are you serious? He's one of the hippest minds in the whole world.' Then he came back and said, 'How long you been knowin' him?' and I told him, 'All through the sixties,' you know. And I said it was a fantastic idea.”
Of course, not everybody felt that way. A corporate executive at the party grabbed me by the collar and said, threateningly, “You're exploiting a very sick man.” I didn't know how long I would last as publisher of Hustler, so when editor Bruce David showed me around the next morning, I began exercising my power immediately. The cover of the April 1978 issue—the one that would not feature a woman – was scheduled to have a teddy bear wearing a negligee. I changed it to an Easter bunny nailed to a crucifix, with a basket of painted eggs toppled over in the foreground, and assigned a staffer to write a piece on “The Commercialization of Easter.” I also went through Larry Flynt's publisher's statement and removed every masculine reference to God. That afternoon, Larry brought me into his office. I didn't know what to expect, but he said that he really liked my cover idea, and he agreed with me that God is genderless. “You know,” he said, “I've always been of a philosophical bent.” Then he gestured toward the wall. “You see these walls? I could make them come tumbling down by sheer willpower.”
“Oh, boy, this is gonna be some job.”
“But I don't wanna misuse my power.”
“Oh, shit, why doesn't anybody ever wanna misuse their power for me? C'mon, Larry, please, just once. . . .”
Flying back to San Francisco, I decided – perhaps foolishly – not to ask him for a contract. If indeed I was exploiting a very sick man, at least I wanted him to be able to fire me as frivolously as he had hired me. Flynt told the Los Angeles Times, “I wanted someone Christ-like. I always felt Lenny Bruce was Christ-like. And Paul was closer to Lenny than Christ. Maybe I can provide Lenny with the last laugh.”
On December 23, while I was spending the Christmas holidays with the Kesey family in Oregon, Larry Flynt's brother, Jimmy, and others were making arrangements to have Flynt locked up and declared insane. They were concerned about his behavior ever since his conversion – Flynt had been flying back and forth across the country, making speeches and deals, buying newspapers and real estate, attending religious revivals and subsidizing religious groups – and they convinced a probate judge to order his arrest and detention for a sanity hearing, not such an easy task since Flynt traveled with bodyguards. Although the judge personally informed the sheriff, and plans for this legal kidnapping were put into effect, the order was withdrawn without explanation on Christmas Eve. Flynt called me in Oregon and invited me to the Bahamas for New Year's. Kesey's daughter, Shannon, was giving him a haircut, stretching out each individual coil and then clipping off the end of it while Kesey – himself a practicing Christian – gave me his farewell blessing: “Christ's plan has a place for pink. All you have to do is lace it with love . .
Paul Krassner
