The Sultan of Smut

Al Goldstein and his magazine, Screw, brought a grittiness and edge to the porn industry of the swinging ’60s and beyond. But his antics and flamboyant vindictive streak brought him infamy and, as Todd Plummer discovers, some powerful enemies.

Every day, in the late 1990s and early ’00s, Al Goldstein gave his neighbors the finger. For about six years, he casually greeted the boaters and residents of Pompano Beach, Florida, with an 11-foot-tall foam statue of the obscene gesture, daring those around him to infringe on his free speech rights. But for the infamous pornographer—who arguably operated on the fringe of an already seedy industry—it ranks low amongst his laundry list of dirty deeds.

Goldstein’s tale begins as so many New York stories do: from humble beginnings in Brooklyn. Born in 1936, he grew up in a postwar Williamsburg that has long since disappeared—an enclave of working-class Jewish families far removed from the cashed-up hipsters who call that neighborhood home today.

From an early age, Goldstein was attuned to the art of the hustle. But his path was unfocused. Despite showing potential in college (he cap - tained the debate team at Pace, and interviewed Allen Ginsberg for the school newspaper), and a stint as a photojournalist for the army, he seemed to prefer being nimble in the job market. At various times in the 1960s, Goldstein sold insurance, peddled encyclopedias, wrote articles for the New York Free Press, and even drove a yellow cab.

There wasn’t a gig in town that he wouldn’t milk for a buck. And he was smart enough— certainly brazen enough—to capitalize on what was happening more in the culture at large.

As New York’s sexual revolution entered full swing, with adult cinemas and cheekily oblique “massage parlors” popping up throughout the city, Goldstein managed to convince his friend and Free Press editor Jim Buckley that there was enormous opportunity to cover the commercial sex scene. Both men invested $175, and together in November 1968, they published Screw , a 12-page tabloid containing pornographic film reviews, nude photos, and even a consumer report by Mr. Goldstein of an artificial vagina.

For cheap thrills, there was no better rag than