Fruity Booty The death of Little Richard (Penniman) needs to be acknowledged in some way, and how better than by remembering that the original song that became the mega-hit “Tutti Frutti” (1955) was a pæan to anal sex? The song’s title always seemed to be winking a gay message; the song itself came out of the New Orleans nightclub scene. Little Richard’s drummer Charles Connor has confirmed that the original lyrics went like this: “Tutti Frutti, good booty. If it’s tight, it’s alright. If it’s greasy, it makes it easy.” Good advice! Another version was even more explicit: “Tutti Frutti, good booty. If it don’t fit, don’t force it. You can grease it, make it easy.” The words were sanitized by Little Richard and his producer, with “rooty” replacing “booty” and call-outs to “Daisy” and “Sue” thrown in for straight measure. No doubt these changes were necessary for the song to sell millions of copies to teenagers and to become the cultural shaker-upper that it was, but it’s fun to think that a subliminal gay message was still getting through to rock (and roll) the sensibilities of 1950s America.
The Great Co-vide The schism in American politics opened a new fissure even in this time of national crisis, as public officials imposed restrictions on social contact while “red state” types (egged on by Donald Trump) claimed it was all a hoax and staged scattered demonstrations. When some people who attended these rallies inevitably contracted the virus, there was a hint of Schadenfreude in some reports, to be sure. They need to be seen as cautionary tales about the results of imposing articles of faith upon the reality at hand. Sure, one can deny climate change or repudiate Darwinism without suffering any immediate consequences, but every so often reality does bite back.
1. Louisiana pastor Tony Spell made news when he insisted on conducting church services in defiance of his state’s ban on large gatherings. Indeed for Easter he took the added step of busing people in from afar to attend a service with 1,100 people. Next—you guessed it—parishioners started coming down with Covid-19 and in some cases perishing. Spell was arrested for defying the ban, which will probably result in a fine. Whether he faces civil liability is a huge legal question that has yet to be tested in Louisiana and elsewhere.
2. A Christian evangelist who mocked the alarm over Covid-19 died after being infected, in all likelihood, while preaching on the streets of New Orleans. Arriving from a Christian ministry based in Virginia, Landon Spradlin was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras on a mission to “wash it from its sin and debauchery.” Declaring the pandemic to be a hoax designed to damage Donald Trump, Spradlin believed his faith gave him immunity from the virus, as promised in a Pentecostal epigram: “As long as I walk in the light of that law, no germ will attach itself to me.” He fell ill while traveling home with his wife and became one of the first Virginians to die of the virus.
3. Texas resident Karen Kolbe Sehlke was not a prominent person; let her death stand in for the untold thousands who listened to Trump and Fox News and concluded that the whole thing was a “media hoax.” In one statement she managed to touch all the bases, from Purell to guns and God: “You don’t need hand sanitizer, toilet paper, and Lysol. You need common sense, a sense of direction, faith, a will to fight, and of course guns!” It may be comforting to cite the usual symbols of authority; the reality is that they have no power here. Sehlke succumbed to the virus only days after posting this statement.
4. Bishop Gerald O. Glenn of Richmond Virginia’s New Deliverance Evangelistic Church defied the authorities by opening his church’s doors to worshipers on March 22nd—and delivering his last sermon. He told the congregation: “I firmly believe that God is larger than this dreaded virus. You can quote me on that. I am essential. I’m a preacher. I talk to God!” A week later, the minister had succumbed to Covid-19.
The sense of poetic justice noted above derives in part from the fact that these people are part of a movement known for its vocal and persistent opposition to LGBT rights. And yet, how odd this is on reflection: the fact that there’s any connection at all between anti-gay bigotry and Covid-19 denialism, albeit mediated by a contempt for science, biblical fundamentalism, and a deep-seated tribalism (white, Christian). During the AIDS crisis, some evangelicals gloated that HIV was God’s punishment for homosexuality. How curious that these same people are now risking exposure to a different virus on the belief that God will protect them for their faith.
Surging Demand Whole industries have been crushed by the Covid-19 pandemic (travel, retail), but there are bound to be a few that benefit by the luck of the draw (Zoom, Acme Face Masks). Included in the latter category is the sex toy industry, which is lucky enough to make a product that people tend to use alone, when bored, or when cooped up inside. The reports are anecdotal—sales of Swedish sex toy brand Lelo up by forty percent, for LA-based Doc Johnson up 100 percent—but together they paint a picture of an industry on the rise. Masturbation aids have shot up, not surprisingly, but the company Sex Doll Genie, which creates realistic surrogates for both men and women, reports soaring sales as well, with gay customers a large share of the total. One short-term consequence is that there could be a run on dildos, so one report advises: “Time is of the essence, dear wankers!” Longer term, sci-fi writers have long been positing future worlds in which sex is conducted not with fellow humans but instead with cuddly manikins or eager-to-please robots. Perhaps the rise of Sex Doll Genie will one day be seen as the beginning of the inevitable end of human-to-human sex.
