By Mark S. King on May 8, 2013 12:52 PM
|No Comments
"A boy's best friend is his mother."
- Norman Bates, Psycho
I
was standing at the ticket counter of the movie theater and couldn't
believe my ears. They were telling me that "Theater of Blood," with the
great Vincent Price, was rated "R" and they were not letting me in
without a parent. I was a horror-movie obsessed boy of 12, and was
inconsolable. "I won't look at any sexy stuff," I remember pleading, "I
just came for the gore!"
With visions of decapitations fading like an old blood stain, I made
the long walk back home and exposed my broken heart to Mother, who made
one of the grandest gestures of my childhood: she took me back for the
late show. On a school night.
It wouldn't be the last time she had my back. Over the years she proved a trustworthy ally, and this was never more true than in the 1980′s, when gay men often lost their mothers -- hell, their entire families - when an AIDS diagnosis was revealed.
Mom never abandoned me or my gay older brother, Dick (is there no gayer name than Dick King?
Did my parents consult the Falcon Video Book of Baby Names?). I tested
positive in 1985, and Mom immediately went to work educating herself on
HIV.
In this special Mother's Day episode of my ongoing video series
"My Fabulous Disease," I sat Mom down to find out things I've never
asked before. What did she really feel when she found out I was
positive? Did she believe I would die? Do mothers have a right to know?
What advice would she offer other families? We also talk about the loss
of Emil and the repercussions from it we still feel today.
Mom is no expert. She isn't an AIDS researcher and she doesn't march
on Washington. She just loves her kids and tries to understand what is
happening in their lives and how she can help. If your mother is like
mine, we have a lot to celebrate (or remember) this Mother's Day
weekend.
Enjoy the video, and please, stay well.
Mark
(This post originally appeared on Mothers Day, 2010, and I'm
happy to report that Mom is doing just great. I wanted to share this
with you again. -- Mark)
By Mark S. King on April 3, 2013 5:46 PM
|3 Comments
This memory still brings back fear and melancholy, like a ghost story that stubbornly haunts me after all these years...
Over and over, footage of Rock Hudson standing next to Doris Day was
playing on television, and he looked ghastly. His skin was wrinkled and
sunken as if by very old age. It was 1985, and it was one of the last
close-up images most of us would ever see of the movie icon. And it was
terrifying.
My
heart was pounding, and I tried to listen to the voice-over, which
spoke of the sudden illness of Rock Hudson and speculation that he might
have AIDS. Throughout the newscast, memories of a night in 1982, nearly
three years earlier, sprang to life. The images taunted me and screamed
at me and said gonna getcha gonna getcha gonna getcha ...
Charley and I had recently moved to Los Angeles and the city still
held such mystery and promise for us. We were excited about spending
our anniversary at the gay restaurant New York Company, where you got a
candle on your table and mushrooms on your prime rib and they would
probably sing to us or bring a special piece of cake.
No sooner had we settled at our table and ordered drinks than Charley
started nudging my arm and staring at something behind me. I glanced
in that direction, and was stunned to find Rock Hudson seated there,
talking with another man.
In
our short time in Los Angeles, I had developed the attitude that famous
people deserved their privacy and one shouldn't ogle them. I thought it
was cool not to care they were there, even though I was dying to look.
In any case, Charley was staring across our table in a gay restaurant
directly at Rock Hudson and I wanted him to stop right this minute.
I was definitely jealous, not only of being upstaged by a movie star
at my anniversary dinner, but because I wanted to look at him so badly
myself, and Charley had the perfect view. So I pestered poor Charley for
the next ten minutes about how rude he was and how I couldn't believe
he found the man so fascinating and why couldn't he pay attention to me
on this special night and all sorts of other such lies.
"You men having any fun?"
There was no mistaking the voice, and I looked up from my pouting
stance to Charley, who was grinning across our table at the man behind
me. "Sure," Charley managed to say. I turned around and Rock Hudson was
smiling at me. I was a star struck boy and there was no hiding it now.
"Yeah, me too," I said. How completely embarrassing.
"You
sure?" he asked, "Because my friend and I were just discussing it, and I
was saying that the two of you were having a fight."
Rock Hudson was discussing me. Rock Hudson was discussing me.
"Uh no, not at all," I lied, jumping in before Charley had a chance
to say what a bitch I was and how I thought you shouldn't ogle movie
stars. "I think we're just kinda tired. As a matter of fact, today is
our anniversary and we're celebrating."
"Yeah," said Charley, "we're doing fine. How are you tonight?" He was
playing along, had forgiven me, and was asking Rock Hudson a question.
This was unbelievable.
"It's really wonderful that you two are having an anniversary. How long have you been together?"
"Three years," we said in unison.
"That's just great. Congratulations." At this point he introduced his
friend, who went "way back" and who's name I couldn't tell you in a
million years, and then he offered an invitation. "Come sit with us,
boys. Have a drink. It's a special occasion."
I looked at Charley, holding on to my "protect their privacy" stance
for a few more seconds, but he had already risen to join them. What the
hell. Like I would have refused. I took my spot beside Rock Hudson
because I would have broken Charley's arm if he had tried that seat and
he knew it. Another round of drinks appeared, and the star launched into
clever stories that I don't quite remember but were more than
fascinating at the time.
The conversation wandered onto Trivial Pursuit, the game which was then new and all the rage.
"Yes, I've heard of that," Rock said. "I haven't played it yet."
"We've got the game, Rock," Charley said. "You should really come
over some time and we'll play it with you." I couldn't believe what he
was saying. He actually called Mr. Rock Hudson "Rock." Furthermore, my
partner had just invited this man "over some time," like that was really
in the realm of possibility.
More drinks arrived. This man can drink like a cow, I thought, and
not even show it. He was playful, though, and shot a few looks my way
that I would have taken quite differently if it weren't clear I was
celebrating my anniversary with the man to my immediate left.
"It's
a great game," I found myself saying. "You wanna come over and play it
with us?" I was a teensy bit smashed, no doubt about it.
"Yes, I would."
I'm sure there was more to it, more of a rationale as to why he felt
comfortable crashing our anniversary evening, but I don't remember. His
friend kindly begged off of the event, and it was decided that Charley
would take his friend home while I rode with Rock so he had no problem
finding our apartment. I still will never believe he parked his classy
import on Edgewood Avenue, because it made me nervous parking my car
there. Once inside, I found a full bottle of Scotch, poured him a
drink, and gave him a tour of our tiny apartment until Charley got back.
I was no fool. What we had here was a prescription for something…
unseemly. But I was barreling through these bizarre circumstances and
wasn't weighing the specific possibilities. That's a lie. I was pursuing
it because I suspected what was to come.
We played the game for a couple of hours, Rock winning and drinking.
Before it was over the Scotch would be history and I would offer to roll
a joint. "Pot makes me horny," he said, "so I don't know if I
should --" and of course I was passing him the joint faster than you
could say Star Fucker.
He talked about movies. And sex. And people he loved and hated. The
juiciest tales began with "I was really drunk one night when" and the
meanest had to do with people he thought had treated him badly
professionally ("You need Julie Andrews like you need a knife in your
back," said he).
Charley had taken it all in, but knew when enough was enough. He
excused himself quite late to go to bed, Rock offered to go, I wouldn't
hear of it, and we continued sitting in the dining room passing the
joint.
I knew what was being played out. Questions floated about in the back
balcony of my head, just within earshot. What kind of guy was I? Was I
going to have sex with this man right here in the living room? What
about my anniversary? What about the man I loved asleep in the bedroom?
Was Rock Hudson as well hung as everyone said? Some questions got my
attention more than others.
Rock made motions for the umpteenth time that it was time to go home,
so while he whispered another insincere goodnight, I drunkenly opened
the pants of Mr. Rock Hudson. The fact that this was a famous escapade
had overruled the anniversary etiquette issues.
Thirty minutes or so later, I stood in my robe outside the bathroom,
wondering what Rock Hudson thought about the rust stained bathtub in
which he was quickly showering. The sex had been in near dark, and
without the pretext of romance -- no tender caresses or meaningful
glances.
I
can remember only one direct look from the man. I stared down upon his
face after the exhaustion of labored sex -- too much bourbon, too much
pot -- and my eyes tried adjusting to his face in the dark. And then
there it was, staring back at me, with a surprisingly impatient look.
Stern and almost elderly.
"Are you done?" he asked blankly.
Well, life ain't the damned movies, I suppose.
I would make small talk with him as he toweled dry and dressed, and
then me, in a final act of staking my claim, asking for his autograph.
Yes, so help me, I asked the damp, drunk and spent star to scribble "All
my best, Rock Hudson" on a piece of notebook paper before his hasty
exit down the duplex stairs and out to the dingy street below.
I watched the car pull away and walked slowly back to the bedroom,
where Charley was sound asleep and snoring. I laid down in the dark and
the night replayed in my mind. Was I triumphant? Excited, thrilled,
guilty? I had just bedded the ultimate male screen icon of a
generation, and I hadn't the slightest idea how to feel about it.
Rock Hudson was now a ghastly figure on a television screen in my
living room. My heart raced every time the evening news began and some
new tidbit of information about his disease, his sex life, his kiss with
Linda Evans on "Dynasty," his lovers and his drug treatments were
reported with morbid tones and oh-my-God urgency.
I had not yet been tested for HIV. In 1985, what was the point? There
were no known effective treatments, the first drug treatment, AZT, was
just being introduced and people with AIDS were dropping like flies. It
was politically incorrect to get tested because it could lead to
discrimination, brand you as terminal and assure you that every pathetic
image of a dying AIDS patient applied directly to you.
And that is exactly what the Rock Hudson coverage was doing to me,
test or no test. Magazines and Dan Rather news stories were talking to
me specifically. ROCK HUDSON HAS AIDS, the headlines screamed, AND MARK
KING WILL DIE AS WELL.
"Rock
Hudson is now resting in his Los Angeles home beyond a doctors care,"
reported Mary Hart on Entertainment Tonight, "and Mark, you're an idiot
if you think you can escape this now. You're dead as a door nail, buddy.
What were you thinking?"
I would stare at the coverage without a word, and nod my head at parties when someone said how tragic it was and excuse myself.
My parents had been told the censored version of the anniversary
night story that very next day, and called me in Los Angeles shortly
after Rock was reported ill. "Why not go down to the hospital?" my
father asked. "You could try to cheer him up, maybe bring Trivial
Pursuit!" I explained the man had a million fans and wouldn't remember
me, without mentioning how trivial the pursuit had been.
In October of 1985, Rock Hudson died in his home. News reports tortured me for months to come.
By Mark S. King on March 15, 2013 8:32 AM
|18 Comments
Richard is handsome and adorably shy. His sister began emailing me a few months ago, wondering if her brother might enjoy the HIV Cruise Retreat, because he isn't able to disclose his status comfortably in his fairly small town.
On
the last night of the cruise I gave him an award for "Sweetest
Backstory," explaining to the crowd that his cruise ticket was a
Christmas gift from his sister, who clearly loves him very much (the
awards are really just a silly way to acknowledge various people on the
ship). He accepted the award with tears streaming down his face, while
dozens upon dozens of new friends applauded heartily.
It is that fellowship, that embrace of our lives and all that we are, that best describes the week-long event on the high seas.
For seven days, I lived in a state of enhanced gratitude. For my life, my health, and for the people who organize the retreat.
Sailing from Ft Lauderdale to various islands of the Caribbean, the
Cruise Retreat included more than 200 gay men, women and our supporters.
We feasted on non-stop food and the loving embrace of friends old and
new.
Along the way, there were games, shore excursions and even budding
romances. The protective walls that often surround those of us living
with HIV came crumbling down, replaced with new relationships, email
addresses and phone numbers. By the time we docked back in Ft
Lauderdale, hugs were long and new confidants had been established.
I don't expect that everyone has the ability to afford the trip, but
the message of the event - reach out for support and friendships where
ever you might find them - echoes in my mind and heart today.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
p.s. The 2013 cruise is sailing November 2-9, 2013, but cabins fill up months in advance. Personally, I send the travel agent a little here and there throughout the year to make it easier, but the affordable rates might surprise you. NOTE: Although this cruise is often referred to as "The Poz Cruise," it has no affiliation with POZ Magazine.
By Mark S. King on February 27, 2013 7:27 PM
|No Comments
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage. Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013 LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association. About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on various issues so they we might report on them with more authority. Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and international rights.
The absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at #LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner, who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table, can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/my-fabulous-disease/hiv-and-gay-media-the-vanishing-virus/#sthash.VM8SJ8h8.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close. - See
more at:
http://marksking.com/category/my-fabulous-disease/#sthash.EHgX0nga.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/category/my-fabulous-disease/#sthash.EHgX0nga.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/category/my-fabulous-disease/#sthash.EHgX0nga.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/category/my-fabulous-disease/#sthash.EHgX0nga.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/my-fabulous-disease/hiv-and-gay-media-the-vanishing-virus/#sthash.6jhNBAEb.dpuf
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/my-fabulous-disease/hiv-and-gay-media-the-vanishing-virus/#sthash.6jhNBAEb.dpuf
HIV and Gay Media: The Vanishing Virus
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/my-fabulous-disease/hiv-and-gay-media-the-vanishing-virus/#sthash.6jhNBAEb.dpuf
HIV and Gay Media: The Vanishing Virus
The turning point could be traced to August of 1998. It was the month that, for the first time in well over a decade, the Bay Area Reporter
did not have a single AIDS obituary submitted for publication. The
promise of protease inhibitor medications had been realized, and it felt
for many that our long community nightmare was coming to a close.
The milestone in the life of San Francisco's LGBT newspaper was
celebrated around the country and became a media story unto itself. "AIDS Deaths Take Holiday," trumpeted the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "For Once, No AIDS," said the Wilmington Morning Star. The headline in the Spokesman Review assured us that "No News is Good News." The Bay Area Reporter's own front page carried two words in enormous type: "No Obits."
That could be seen as the moment in which coverage of HIV in gay media began to fade.
Today, the LGBT community is celebrating other milestones with joyful
regularity. The right to serve openly in the military. Marriage.
Growing acceptance and political muscle.
HIV/AIDS has largely moved off the front page and out of public
consciousness. Despite newsworthy data such as increased HIV
transmission among gay men and the ongoing slaughter of gay black men in
particular, those stories feel stale. It has all been said so many
times before. Even new storylines, such as Pre- and Post-Exposure Prophylaxis, cure research advocacy, and tools on the horizon such as rectal microbicides, it's become harder to capture the imagination or interest of the gay community. When new data was reported
recently showing that half of the 20-year-old gay men today will have
HIV by the time they're 50 (and if they're black, that figure rises to a
whopping 70 percent), the news barely rated a tweet or newspaper item.
What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of
rising infection rates and a bored readership? Are they simply
reflecting the community's waning interest, or do they have a
responsibility to keep HIV in the headlines, to serve as advocates for
better public awareness?
I was just in the perfect place to ask these questions: The 2013
LGBT Media Journalists Convening, held in Philadelphia and sponsored by
the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.
About 100 media professionals, including a healthy dose of bloggers
like myself, attended the event, which educates LGBT journalists on
various issues so they we might report on them with more authority.
Those issues this year were transgenders, immigration, aging, labor, and
international rights.
The
absence of HIV/AIDS wasn't lost on me, I assure you (AIDS activists
called them out about this in real time in the event's Twitter feed at
#LGBTmedia13) and it became the topic of my interviews with various
people in attendance. Their very personal answers - and undeniable
passion for the cause of HIV in many cases - sure made it a little
easier to understand the tough choices they are making every day. I
will be very interested in your reaction.
Aside from my griping over HIV coverage, it really was terrific to be
in the company of a lot of dedicated journalists, and I appreciate very
much the work done to mount the event, including the contributions of
Bil Browning of The Bilerico Project (pictured with me above, at right).
Is sparse HIV coverage just a sign of the times? Is it progress? And what can we do to increase visibility again?
The journalists in my video provide some answers, but I especially liked the observation by gay political activist David Mixner,
who reminded me that coming out, whether as gay men or as someone
living with HIV, is the greatest tool in fighting stigma and helping
people see the importance of the issue. I'm glad I have some company in
the poz blogosphere, but we can always use more voices. Anyone who has
the ability to share their story, online or across the dinner table,
can make an awesome contribution.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep nudging my LGBT media colleagues, and I encourage you to do the same.
Thanks for watching, and please be well.
Mark
- See more at: http://marksking.com/my-fabulous-disease/hiv-and-gay-media-the-vanishing-virus/#sthash.6jhNBAEb.dpuf
By Mark S. King on February 19, 2013 12:33 PM
|10 Comments
In the course of a few short months, Lee Thompson ("Uncle Poodle" to
reality TV watchers) has managed to personify a variety of hot button
issues among gay men today. He has come out as gay and HIV positive.
He has sent an ex-lover to jail and sent nude pictures via Grindr.
Or not. Depending on whom you believe. Let's break down the strange case of Uncle Poodle.
Then, in a recent interview
with the Atlanta gay magazine Fenuxe, Thompson made the announcement
that he tested HIV positive in May of 2012. What was startling, though,
was his explanation of his infection. Thompson claimed that not only
had an ex-lover knowingly infected him, but that the man is currently
serving a five-year sentence for non-disclosure of his HIV status (an
example of what is known as HIV Criminalization).
Almost immediately the details of the story were questioned (by
everyone except Fenuxe magazine, which did not delve into the
prosecution in their piece; the writer simply "applauded" Thompson's
bravery). Journalist Todd Heywood posed serious questions about the case,
including the timeline between Thompson's infection and the reported
prosecution, which would have happened in mere months. Heywood also
scoured court records from Georgia to Alabama and could find no evidence
of any such case. Requests for more information from Thompson's people
have garnered no response. The defendant has never been identified.
Did Uncle Poodle lie about sending the ex-lover to jail? And why the hell would he do that?
It is my opinion that Thompson made up the prosecution story. And in
doing so, he behaved in much the same way that most everyone does who
tests HIV positive these days. He looked for someone else to blame. He
played the innocent victim. He released himself from personal
responsibility.
Because everybody knows that when you test HIV positive, you don't
call your doctor to start treatment. You call the police to press
charges.
Stigma is
driving these actions, of course. People who become positive today are
judged for being "bad," for not following the rules, for failing the
community and becoming one of the great unwashed. It makes no
difference that they were simply caught being human,
that they let down their guard for a moment or got drunk or didn't care
or stupidly fell in love. Their friends will furrow their brows.
Their dating life will wither.
And so, someone must pay for these indignities. That is one reason HIV criminalization laws
have prospered - they appeal to our sense of vengeance. They are also
vessels of homophobia, sexism and racism, considering how badly the laws
are applied and how often prosecutions run counter to public health or
even common sense (some convictions have imposed jail time for decades even when condoms were used and no one was infected, and advocates believe people forgo HIV testing
in fear of being prosecuted). Conservative lawmakers and prosecutors --
who don't believe people with HIV should be having sex at all -- are
more than willing to exploit our feelings of revenge when testing
positive so they can lock up some diseased fags.
I empathize with those who test positive today. They suddenly find themselves on my side of the viral divide,
and for some, their hearts and minds may not have made the crossing
yet. Perhaps they have unresolved issues about becoming infected.
Whatever their circumstances, testing positive is a major life event and
I can understand if some have an impulse to lash out.
And I believe that Lee Thompson did exactly that when he reported
sending the man who infected him to jail. The man who no one can
identify. The case that no one can locate.
Things
have just gotten a little more complicated for our Uncle Poodle. Now,
someone who claims to have communicated with Thompson on Grindr is trying to sell naked photos
that Thompson supposedly sent him (isn't humanity grand?). Thompson
being linked to Grindr -- the app about which controversy recently arose
when a survey indicated half of its users were engaging in bareback sex --
presents a delicate situation indeed.
People living with HIV have every right to "full and satisfying sexual and emotional lives," as the Denver Principles stated
thirty years ago. There is no evidence or details about Thompson's
sexual life or choices, so let's simply hope he is conducting himself as
someone with intimate knowledge of HIV non-disclosure laws, considering
his contention that he sent someone to jail for withholding their
status. The sword cuts both ways, and I worry for him.
Lee Thompson certainly has faced his share of scrutiny, living as an
HIV positive gay man in the rural South, much less someone connected to a
wildly popular reality series. But he should consider his moves, both
public and private, very, very carefully. Because we don't simply like
to tear down celebrities, or save our judgment and revenge for those
with the thickest skin.
As we prove time and again, we can do it to the very best of friends.
By Mark S. King on January 28, 2013 10:13 PM
|27 Comments
Whenever a new study of gay men is released showing that we are having bareback sex,
the arbiters of sexual conduct among us clutch their pearls and decry
this shameful, shocking, murderous behavior. So you can just imagine
runaway pearls showering the floor when a recent survey showed that
nearly half the users of the gay phone app Grindr engage in unprotected sex.
I really wish that people would put down their smelling salts and try
to understand the reasons why. Instead, every time some half-assed
study demonstrates what we already know, they stand there in stunned outrage, frozen in their outdated indignation like they've been caught baking bread in Pompeii.
There's nothing new here, except our seemingly endless fascination
with gay men behaving in exactly the same way as nearly every other man
on this planet.
Maybe
those who find bareback sex distasteful believe they are being
politically correct, that their strident judgments about the sex lives
of others are in the service of HIV prevention, that criticizing other
gay men for acting like human beings will somehow alter instincts that evolution built over millions of years.
Perhaps this is part of our new gay agenda, to demonstrate to
straight society that we're just as good at shaming gay men as they are,
that we'll gladly be neutered for equal rights and be denied the same
pleasures they take for granted, that if they only give us gay marriage
we won't talk about the unprotected butt fucking that will happen on the
wedding night.
Somehow, we have come to the homophobic conclusion that when gay men
engage in the romantic, emotional, spiritual act of intercourse without a
barrier we label it psychotic barebacking, but when straight people do it we call it sex.
This double standard is ludicrous. Your mother barebacked. It is a
natural and precious act that has been going on, quite literally, since
the beginning of mankind. Abraham (barebacked and) begat Isaac; and
Isaac (barebacked and) begat Jacob; and Jacob (barebacked and) begat
Judas and his brethren (Matthew 1:2).
Maybe you have the uncanny ability to enjoy sex while your penis is
wrapped in latex. That is terrific, really. Please continue. You are
using a classic prevention tool, a real golden oldie. Or maybe you and
your boyfriend are HIV negative and have the good fortune to be in a
committed, monogamous relationship in which you are having sex without
condoms. Or perhaps, by whatever Olympian discipline you possess, you
are capable of using a condom each and every time you have sex, no
matter what. You are to be commended, and you are, regrettably, in the
minority.
All of these scenarios are valid and worth replicating whenever
possible. They do not, however, represent a superior high ground from
which to make pronouncements about someone else's choices.
There was an unspoken agreement that gay men made amongst ourselves
during the AIDS crisis of the 1980's. We accepted that we would use
condoms - at the time it was the only "safer sex" option that existed -
until whatever time the crisis abated. Many of us believed this
contract would be in effect for the rest of lives, if only because we
thought we would be dead within a few short years. But none of us could
have fathomed that, thirty years later, we would still be held to these
strict and oppressive guidelines.
Even then, some of us didn't follow them. One might assume that the
cascade of death we experienced would have led to long term behavioral
change. In fact, many of us responded to the crisis in a profoundly
human way: we found comfort by making love with one another, often
without a condom. It was a life affirming gesture, and an enormous
"fuck you" to AIDS.
In fact, a 1988 study of gay men
showed that almost half of them never used condoms, and most did not
use them all of the time. These figures are strikingly similar to the
recent Grindr results. Everything old is new again. Or it never went
out of style in the first place.
The 1988 study is particularly interesting when you consider how many
gay men consider that period a time of great sexual austerity -- and
some of them are wishing for a return to those times a bit too ardently.
Gay men who witnessed the early AIDS carnage will sometimes say, "If
only younger men knew what we went through. If they had seen it, they
wouldn't be behaving this way."
That's sick. I do not wish young gay men could witness the soul crushing things that I did. I worked in the trenches very, very hard so that they might have the option of being apathetic. I prefer their blissful ignorance to burying them.
And make no mistake about it, the number of gay men in the United
States dying from AIDS is a small fraction of what it once was. Cigarettes are now killing more people with HIV
than the virus itself. HIV/AIDS has become a dangerous but largely
manageable disease, and fear tactics that suggest otherwise are being
ignored because they simply are not true. Sex is sex, it is affirming and natural, and anyone who wishes to equate unprotected sex to death and disease really needs to get some therapy.
Condom usage will almost certainly continue to decrease in the future
because of new tools that have joined the growing list of HIV
prevention options. Pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP) - taking medication in advance of sex with an infected person - has been shown to significantly reduce the risk of transmission (and some insurance plans in the United States are covering the cost). Many people living with HIV are limiting sex partners to those who share their HIV status, known as serosorting. Positive gay men have largely dismissed scary fireside stories of the ultimate boogeyman, the reinfection SuperVirus, who has never materialized.
We also know that when those with HIV have an undetectable viral load
the risk of transmission is negligible, so "treatment as prevention"
efforts have increased (a new British study of straight couples
showed that an undetectable viral load is more effective in preventing
transmission than condoms, and those researchers believe the same will
hold true for gay men).
Gleaming on the horizon are rectal microbicides.
These products, currently in development, will come in the form of
lubricants or douches that will prevent HIV infection, and they could
make the endless debate and judgments about condoms moot, once and for
all.
We don't have to do this anymore. We don't have to clobber each other with condom fascism, discredit the value of our sex lives,
or promote a singular strategy that doesn't work for everyone. We can
accept that gay men are making educated choices to engage in a variety of risk reduction techniques. We can acknowledge that all of these techniques reduce the risk of HIV infection and all of them constitute "safer sex."
And finally, we can stop pretending that those who remain fixated on condom usage have the moral upper hand.
The emperor has no clothes. And he isn't wearing a rubber, either.
The opinions expressed by the bloggers and by people providing comments are theirs alone. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Smart + Strong and/or its employees.
Smart + Strong is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information contained in the blogs or within any comments posted to the blogs.
I
was standing at the ticket counter of the movie theater and couldn't
believe my ears. They were telling me that "Theater of Blood," with the
great Vincent Price, was rated "R" and they were not letting me in
without a parent. I was a horror-movie obsessed boy of 12, and was
inconsolable. "I won't look at any sexy stuff," I remember pleading, "I
just came for the gore!" 
Mom never abandoned me or my gay older brother, Dick (is there no gayer name than Dick King?
Did my parents consult the Falcon Video Book of Baby Names?). I tested
positive in 1985, and Mom immediately went to work educating herself on
HIV. 
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