By the time SCREW #61 hit the streets on May 4, 1970, the counterculture was on acid, Nixon was on tape, and Al Goldstein was on fire. This issue had everything: Edison’s hidden boner, Polish food, and philosophical blowjobs. You want American depravity in its purest form? Welcome home.
Let’s start with D.A. Latimer’s (aka Dean Latimer) “Fornicon: Turn On, Plug In, Pop Off,” a proto-cybersex fever dream back when “plug in” still referred to wall sockets and not USB cock cages. Then there’s The Great Ray Thompson, back for Chapter 4 of “Eat Your Troubles Away,” offering food therapy as only SCREW could: greasy, greasy, and just a little perverse.
In an unexpected stroke of genius (or madness), Thornton Vaseltarp digs up the ghost of Thomas Edison, not for inventing the lightbulb or the phonograph, but for being—get this—America’s First Pornographer. That’s right. Ol’ Tommy E was cranking out tit films before the Model T had tires, and SCREW was the only paper horny enough to give him his due.
Meanwhile, Jim Buckley goes global with “Garbage,” Michael Perkins tells the truth about smut in “Fuck Books,” and Dan Mouer delivers double duty—first with “Dirty Diversions” and again with the “2nd Annual Polack Feast,” which (as usual) offends everyone and feeds no one. Sorry, Poland.
But the soul of this issue? That goes to Lige Clarke and Jack Nichols, our resident homosexual citizens, with their column “Swash Buckling Swish.” Just a year after coining “homophobia” in SCREW’s pages, they were back with a glittery middle finger to straight society’s limp paranoia. It was queerness served hot—before it got market-tested and rainbow-washed.
And then, of course, there’s Caswell Latham’s burning scientific inquiry: “Is Fellatio Fattening?” A headline for the ages. The kind of question that keeps you awake at night, and the kind of answer that only SCREW could deliver without a hint of irony or shame.
Sprinkle in Al Goldstein’s “Shit List,” some grainy NYC street smut from Bob Amsel, and Jackie Acon reminding us all to “Spread Your Legs and Smile,” and you’ve got a classic cocktail of rage, raunch, and revolutionary print journalism.
SCREW #61 wasn’t just another issue. It was a rude finger in the face of repression, and a reminder that before Buzzfeed quizzes and Pornhub tags, people actually read their filth. Sometimes by flashlight. Sometimes with one hand.
This was SCREW at its nasty, noisy, intellectual best.
—P.
