Most famous of Flynt's groovy skirmishes was his successful defense against libel charges brought by fundamentalist minister Jerry Falwell, who challenged the publisher's right to run a cartoon of Falwell having sex with his mother in an outhouse. ("Jerry Falwell talks about his first time.")
While it is easy to cheer Flynt's victory on principle - because freedom of speech includes the freedom to satirize public people even though they get their feelings hurt - it is not so easy to cheer Flynt.
Watching "Hardball," I wondered: How did Nachman, Matthews and Flynt end up tablemates, such that a man who peddles savage imagery of dehumanized women is granted the perception of moral equivalence with serious journalists?
Even though Flynt was the newsmaker and thus the interviewee, a brief exchange of bonhomie with Nachman created the impression of comrades-in-arms. Later in the program, Matthews, whom I know and like, inadvertently delivered the dignifying wink of approval when he remarked:
"I remember those Jackie pictures, too. And they were quite beautiful, despite your intentions."
Make that one for Flynt, who can argue without contradiction that he merely provides what the market demands. If all-American Matthews admires illicit pictures of John-John's mom, who is Flynt to deny him access?
In other words, as long as decent men are lining up around the block to buy Flynt's droolings, as they did when the Jackie issue hit the stands, then we can't really challenge his legitimate place at the trough of public virtue. We are all cut from the same dirty cloth.
Would men line up around the block to see topless photos of Jessica Lynch? Doubtful. She's just a kid who, indeed, has suffered enough.
Thus, despite Flynt's assertions to the contrary, his "moral" decision was likely more commercial than conscientious. Given the likelihood of a lackluster response to a Jessica Lynch issue, he could make more capital by feigning altruism and milking his magnanimous moment.
As usual, we obliged him. Ka-ching.