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Confessions of a Raving, Unconfined Nut: Misadventures in the Counterculture
Uncensored, uncontained, and thoroughly demented, the memoirs of Paul Krassner are back in an updated and expanded edition. Paul Krassner, “father of the underground press” (People magazine), founder of the Realist, political radical, Yippie, and award-winning stand-up satirist, shares his stark raving adventures with the likes of Lenny Bruce, Abbie Hoffman, Norman Mailer, Ken Kesey, Groucho Marx, and Squeaky Fromme, revealing the patriarch of counterculture’s ultimate, intimate, uproarious life on the fringes of society.
Whether he’s writing about his friendship with controversial comic Lenny Bruce, introducing Groucho Marx to LSD, his investigation of Scientology, or John Kennedy’s cadaver, no subject is too sacred to be skewered by Krassner. And yet his stories are soulful and philosophical, always authentic to his iconoclastic brand of personal journalism.
As Art Spiegelman said, “Krassner is one of the best minds of his generational to be destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked—but mainly hysterical. His true wacky, wackily true autobiography is the definitive book on the sixties.”
Whether he’s writing about his friendship with controversial comic Lenny Bruce, introducing Groucho Marx to LSD, his investigation of Scientology, or John Kennedy’s cadaver, no subject is too sacred to be skewered by Krassner. And yet his stories are soulful and philosophical, always authentic to his iconoclastic brand of personal journalism.
As Art Spiegelman said, “Krassner is one of the best minds of his generational to be destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked—but mainly hysterical. His true wacky, wackily true autobiography is the definitive book on the sixties.”
416 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 1993
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394 people want to read
About the author
Paul Krassner
114 books29 followersPaul Krassner was an American author, journalist, comedian, and the founder, editor and a frequent contributor to the magazine The Realist.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
March 7, 2016
I like memoirs as much as the next person. A curiosity initially, and if written well, I can justify hanging on, but after awhile I tired of this self-adoring rant. I guess I am just a more humble person and get uncomfortable by people who gloat. Especially if the writing is tinged in outdated sexist ideals.
I did not grow up with Mr. Krassner: his life through many of America's major political and controversial in the 1960's or his hard-fought rebelliousness is not relatable to me at all. I think he had some interesting jobs in the alternative/adult industries, and I doubt I would have been any less reckless or casual if approached with free sex, drugs and rock concerts. I doubt many people wouldn't want to delve as deep as they possibly could.
But with the addition of the daughter, the paranoid chapter involving LSD/Kennedy/Manson/FBI/Mae Brussell/conspiracy should have been enough of a scare for him to wisen up and straighten out. Some people never learn.
It was cringe-worthy to read of his casual approach to sex and sharing that life with his teenage daughter in her own sexual discoveries. His writing was boorish and felt insensitive at times. He came across as an ass, but then the point of this memoir is to shed the stifling oppression of being so politically correct in the sixties- trying to please everyone. That I get. But still, I felt the writing was rushed and lacked empathy. His ego towards women is astounding in this book.
I was more interested in reading and learning about Lenny Bruce after this book. I remembered the line in R.E.M.'s song 'It's the End of the World As We Know It': "Lenny Bruce is not afraid," so I want to learn what the context for that was.
Overall, the book is not an easy read. It's chock full of the frightening stuff of the sixties. But told in from the perspective of an egomaniac constantly on acid, and tries to weave in meaning because HE was there. But some of the stories featured non sequiturs that felt like the truth was stretched, or maybe an acid flashback was happening just as it was written.
Nonetheless, written in 1992, the book feels dated compared to the progress we've made. It has been interesting to read this during an election year, as there are some parallels. But overall, I am just glad to say I finished a book.
I did not grow up with Mr. Krassner: his life through many of America's major political and controversial in the 1960's or his hard-fought rebelliousness is not relatable to me at all. I think he had some interesting jobs in the alternative/adult industries, and I doubt I would have been any less reckless or casual if approached with free sex, drugs and rock concerts. I doubt many people wouldn't want to delve as deep as they possibly could.
But with the addition of the daughter, the paranoid chapter involving LSD/Kennedy/Manson/FBI/Mae Brussell/conspiracy should have been enough of a scare for him to wisen up and straighten out. Some people never learn.
It was cringe-worthy to read of his casual approach to sex and sharing that life with his teenage daughter in her own sexual discoveries. His writing was boorish and felt insensitive at times. He came across as an ass, but then the point of this memoir is to shed the stifling oppression of being so politically correct in the sixties- trying to please everyone. That I get. But still, I felt the writing was rushed and lacked empathy. His ego towards women is astounding in this book.
I was more interested in reading and learning about Lenny Bruce after this book. I remembered the line in R.E.M.'s song 'It's the End of the World As We Know It': "Lenny Bruce is not afraid," so I want to learn what the context for that was.
Overall, the book is not an easy read. It's chock full of the frightening stuff of the sixties. But told in from the perspective of an egomaniac constantly on acid, and tries to weave in meaning because HE was there. But some of the stories featured non sequiturs that felt like the truth was stretched, or maybe an acid flashback was happening just as it was written.
Nonetheless, written in 1992, the book feels dated compared to the progress we've made. It has been interesting to read this during an election year, as there are some parallels. But overall, I am just glad to say I finished a book.
April 5, 2016
The author is a standup comic, a long-time writer and editor of a provocative periodical called "The Realist," and an associate of Lenny Bruce, Abby Hoffman, Allen Ginsberg, Timothy Leary, Ken Kesey, Charles Manson, Squeaky Fromme, Larry Flynt, and other famous fringe folk from the sixties and beyond. He uses drugs A LOT, and they color his perceptions and his recollections, but he tries to maintain a sense of objectivity about himself.
"Confessions" is complicated, funny, and sometimes horrifying. Nothing is sacred to Krassner. It's a point of honor with him to push boundaries as far as possible, and question accepted verities as much as possible, so he comes across simultaneously as bumptious and self-doubting. He's a moralist who's morally opposed to moralism. Interesting read.
"Confessions" is complicated, funny, and sometimes horrifying. Nothing is sacred to Krassner. It's a point of honor with him to push boundaries as far as possible, and question accepted verities as much as possible, so he comes across simultaneously as bumptious and self-doubting. He's a moralist who's morally opposed to moralism. Interesting read.
May 7, 2015
"I liked the way she challenged me. Once I was smoking a joint very early in the day, and she said, "Dad, how come you have to escape reality the first thing in the morning?" When I was a kid, my parents would refer to "a colored guy" and I would tell them that "Negro" was correct. Now, when I would refer to somebody as "Oriental," Holly would tell me that "Asian" was correct. She didn't like small talk. "Oh Dad, that's trivial bullshit," she would say. The vestigial old-fashioned parent in me wanted to chastise her, "Hey, you can't talk to me that way, I'm your father." But the contemporary New Age parent in me knew that Holly had made an accurate observation. What I had said was trivial bullshit. I took a deep breath. "I'll tell you something, Holly. I'm glad you feel free enough to tell me that what I'm saying is trivial bullshit, but I hope you're glad that I'm free enough to recognize my own trivial bullshit when it's pointed out."
Nobody I knew had ever said "trivial bullshit" to their parents. Certainly I never said it to mine, even though they specialized in trivial bullshit. I had learned to pretend that my parents were a Buddhist monk and nun whose sole purpose on earth was to test my patience with trivia. So, when they showed me how many electric outlets were in the kitchen, I eagerly examined them. "Oh, look, here's a three-pronger!" That way there was no friction between us. They felt good, I felt good, and what a commendable goal that was. So, when my mother opened up the bread of a sandwich - while I was eating it - and put more food inside, I could only smile with gratitude for this whole new form of generosity to contemplate. And when my father gave me his old parka - literally showing me how to put the hood on - I didn't remind him that I was no longer five years old and accuse him of freezing in his parental role. I just said, "Let me practice that a few times.""
-p305-306
Nobody I knew had ever said "trivial bullshit" to their parents. Certainly I never said it to mine, even though they specialized in trivial bullshit. I had learned to pretend that my parents were a Buddhist monk and nun whose sole purpose on earth was to test my patience with trivia. So, when they showed me how many electric outlets were in the kitchen, I eagerly examined them. "Oh, look, here's a three-pronger!" That way there was no friction between us. They felt good, I felt good, and what a commendable goal that was. So, when my mother opened up the bread of a sandwich - while I was eating it - and put more food inside, I could only smile with gratitude for this whole new form of generosity to contemplate. And when my father gave me his old parka - literally showing me how to put the hood on - I didn't remind him that I was no longer five years old and accuse him of freezing in his parental role. I just said, "Let me practice that a few times.""
-p305-306
August 25, 2016
Entertaining autobiography from one of the major players in the counter-culture. It isn't a chronological account as such, and is organised around topics rather than the linear progress of his life. The writing is very funny, and the first chapter that deals with Krassner's childhood is hilarious in places.
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July 3, 2007This guy is an icon among certain crowds. He started out writing for Mad magazine and then made his own in 'The Realist'. I'm not sure if 'The Realist' is still being published. If it is, it's worth a look see. As for this book, I don't know, I didn't read more than the first ten pages.
February 21, 2008
Talk about an interesting life...Krassner's done it all. This was really one of the most entertaining pieces of non-fiction I've ever picked up. This book is great for anyone interested in the counterculture of the sixties, political satire and lots of humor. Great read.
March 8, 2008
I read this book in high school- it was very influential as it was my first exposure to the hippie/yippie movement. Paul Krassner has continued to be a counter-cultural influence on my life...and his name is Paul, so of course I liked him immediately.
January 5, 2010
This book's where I stole one of my online IDs, "thatzenbastard" from. Fascinating, funny stuff about everything from Lenny Bruce and the Manson Family Trials to COYOTE and other worthwhile subjects for the civil libertarian. As Krassner once wrote "It made me go 'wow' for the first time."
April 1, 2008
Loved this one. Anyone who tries to get the phone company to list him as "Rumpleforeskin" but settles for "Foreskin, Rumple" is alright...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 23, 2008
Jesus, what a self-indulgent butthole this guy is.
January 30, 2021
I first picked this up when I was a teenager, and I remember that it really spoke to me. Now on this second read, I'm not sure what the big draw was. Hm.
October 11, 2019
Wonderfully irreverent stuff. Sphincters anyone?
May 18, 2015
a true account of acid conciousness. Irreverant, funny, crazy.
July 15, 2013
Read with David Huntley. He referred me to "Sleeping Where I fall" by Peter Coyote.
February 2, 2015
Yippie!
December 27, 2025
Paul Krassner is a comedian first and foremost, he’s a man who knows how to tell a joke and not take life that seriously. His lack of stock in the seriousness of power led to a life surrounded by influential people who changed the world. He shows how connected the most influential social movements in American history were and just how easy it is to be a nut.
October 26, 2021
As reliably thoughtful, funny, and entertaining as Krassner always was at his best, this seems all the more impressive because of the hideousness of the Soft Skull edition’s cover, a riot of blaring comic sans.
February 13, 2017
read the 1993 Hardback Edition
Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews