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Is an “astonishingly aboriginal archive of this period.”
“It’s a firsthand account of a writer with such an insightful, quirky articulate,” Penley says. “It’s also an account of the beginnings of the adult earnestness and of adult film criticism.”
In an email exchange, I asked Fluorescent, the author and editor of more than 30 books about sex and erotica, to reflect on a period of together when so much about the adult industry seemed so different.
Like any good journalist, editorial about porn meant you followed the action, which invariably brought you to Las Vegas for the annual adult extravaganza trade show. What was that scene like in the mid-to-late ’80s?
It was as surreal as you can suppose. The “porn” part of the CES show was sequestered at the Sahara Hotel, and not officially acknowledged in the CES handbills. It was truly a ghetto, a glittering, glorious slum. Porn helmsman Bobby Hollander came up to me in a silk shirt, unbuttoned to carnival copious chest-fur and gold chains, and put his hand between my trouser legs: “So do you desire to be in the movies, sweetheart?
Source: Las Vegas Weekly