Go to this link on MSNBC for an interesting discussion on a practice that many gay men have been doing all along http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22934058/.
Finally, some Risk Reduction information for the real world...
Thursday, January 31, 2008
End Of An Error
Saw this bumper sticker today. What an understatement.
JANUARY 20, 2009 - THE END OF AN ERROR!
JANUARY 20, 2009 - THE END OF AN ERROR!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The New Party Drug Combo - Are They Kidding?
I have just read an article in The Dallas Voice (First story in the January 18, 2008 issue) about the latest attempt of some gay men to circumvent reality, cheat death, and find Neverland... It seems that the latest party drug "trail mix" is a combination of viagra, ecstacy, and an anti-HIV drug (what happened to the X- Ketamine mix - to simple? )
According to the article, and I paraphrase, this combination of chemicals is designed to allow you to party 'til 4am, fuck the rest of the night and day away with complete abandon without the consequences of contracting HIV. The article also speaks about the rise of the MRSA or the super staph bug that has been running rampant through our community for several years now.
While all of this is disturbing to me on several levels, especially the fact that some of my brethren will actual grasp at this latest straw to be free of the specter of HIV, this isn't the most disturbing thing about this article.
The author of this article, an executive in one of our most prominent clinics in Dallas, talks about how all of these latest practices could lead to increased HIV infections (Duh!). He talks about how all of this disturbs him and that this could potentialy unravel years of risk reduction and safer sex practices( Hate to tell him but the horse has been out of the barn on this one for years). He also drones on about possible drug resistance and the long term costs of all of this and gives lip service to the community returning to a spirit of activism like in the 80's and early 90's, includng a veiled reference to the East and West coast bathhouse closings of the 80's as a possible solution.
So what disturbs me most about this article are two things:
According to the article, and I paraphrase, this combination of chemicals is designed to allow you to party 'til 4am, fuck the rest of the night and day away with complete abandon without the consequences of contracting HIV. The article also speaks about the rise of the MRSA or the super staph bug that has been running rampant through our community for several years now.
While all of this is disturbing to me on several levels, especially the fact that some of my brethren will actual grasp at this latest straw to be free of the specter of HIV, this isn't the most disturbing thing about this article.
The author of this article, an executive in one of our most prominent clinics in Dallas, talks about how all of these latest practices could lead to increased HIV infections (Duh!). He talks about how all of this disturbs him and that this could potentialy unravel years of risk reduction and safer sex practices( Hate to tell him but the horse has been out of the barn on this one for years). He also drones on about possible drug resistance and the long term costs of all of this and gives lip service to the community returning to a spirit of activism like in the 80's and early 90's, includng a veiled reference to the East and West coast bathhouse closings of the 80's as a possible solution.
So what disturbs me most about this article are two things:
- The "C" Average unimaginative, recycled risk reduction mantras of the past coming from our supposedly best sources of information and leadership on such matters. Doesn't anyone have fresh ideas about how to slow this epidemic among the younger generation? If this is the best they can come up with I am calling for their resignations. Put someone in these positions with balls who will tell it like it is and will not allow government agencies, scared mediocore low level community politicos, or anyone else to water down the message that needs to get out. It is still as simple as Silence Equals Death, HIV and excessive drug use kills, and low self esteem is still one of the biggest killers of our communities.
- How out of touch our so called leaders are - Heads up leaders - MRSA has been around for at least 5 years (Before I wised up and figured out what was going on I contracted it twice. One in early 2004 and once in 2005) and yes it is spreading faster in our community and it is from unprotected sex and sharing needles. Please just say it and don't apologize or hedge just to safe face. Now is not the time to safe face. Now is the time to save lives. Also, barebacking ( stupid term that looks even stupider written out on a Craig's List entry) has been a common practice for at least a decade (yes I partisipate in it, don't lie about it and it feels good) so risk reduction and safe sex messages aren't working. Let's have town hall meetings and figure out this complicated health problem. Let's start with the ugly truth and get on with it.
You see, I am a 15 year long term non progressive survivor of HIV, drugs played an integral and formative part in my life, and craigs list and crystal meth have messed things up for me in the dating arena. I want to share my experiences, good,bad, and ugly with others not to mess up any fun (experiment, make mistakes, it is all part of the deal, or destiny) but get smart about it because their will be a time if you survive when most of you will want to go down a different path. You can't do that if you are dead or chronically ill from something that was preventable.
So I say to our leaders to put your money where your mouth is and do more than write articles. I stand ready to help you and work within the existing system but if you guys are all talk then I will get my message another way. Contact me , I dare you...
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
My Life "Til Now Essay
I wrote this a few years ago but as I read it it seems more valid than ever...
Walking along the pale two dimensional story board that had been my life lately I never again expected to find anything that could turn this poorly constructed comic book into a three dimensional pop up book about my fabulous life. The days of thinking about my existence in those terms had been crushed years ago and the colorful dust that was at first left under my shoe had dissipated long before the dawning of the new millennium into a dull gray smoke screen.
It wasn’t such a bad place to spend time really. Gone were the dramatic up and down swings, like in your favorite marvel comic adventure. Replaced by a steady droning of life’s routine. That comforting continuous sound of giving up and giving in that lulled me asleep. Never to awake? Complete deflation.
The deflation started so quietly. One day I began to think: Who needs the parties, the men, the nameless faceless countless encounters here in meat space (Stolen from Ken Wilber). Who needs marches, let the younger queers have it. I am tired. Who even remembers what the fighting was all about (I miss the 80’s; at least the enemy was something other than myself). Who needs the countless drag (Big Dottie ad nauseam) and leather incarnations. Ironically, two sides of the same coin. Who needs the dancing ‘til 4am oblivious to all your surroundings (pure bliss – sometimes with flags). Being gay is only a small part of who I really am, right? (Who am I kidding? Being alone and in Texas, it is just easier to go partially back into the closet behind the guise of my pseudo new-age bullshit). I need to look for my validation elsewhere; I need to be a part of the Big Out There!
So slowly, with 12 steps, psychotherapy, isolation and a sitcom lobotomy I began to erase the beautiful colors from my story board. The colors that I spent so many years experimenting with and perfecting that were unique to me. Colors that for a few short years I painted with broad strokes, proud and loud and in your face. No apologies, no regrets, no explanations, and no validation needed! Colors that began with Red. Red blood. Red ribbons. Seeing red because I have IT! But not being content with one note, one color, and one cry of pathetic helplessness, I exploded (given lemons, make lemonade). I experienced life, all of it in short order! My colors became as countless as the stars and my joy as infinite.
But my time of infinite joy of feeling truly alive seems to have passed. (I wished I would have recognized it as such. I would have enjoyed it more). My “now” life is routine, predictable, grown-up. Complete decoloration (monochrome, not even black and white). This has been my mantra for sometime now, starting sometime late last century. It is who I have become.
Stop!
Let’s get out of this maudlin middle land, this fence straddling Odyssey that would make Homer think twice about penning his real or imagined life!
Quit living life as if it was over or that the best part of it is behind you. Learn your lessons once and for all! The joy! The colors! Even the monochrome. They are you! Still those voices from your fundamental hells and believe! There never was a fall!
Gather with those who have come with you through the fog! Be the mirror! Bend time! Back to the future! See that I am, you are all there is! Beauty! Power! Love! Beyond comprehension… except comprehension is inevitable.
There is enough! There always has been enough! Stop dipping your toe in the shallow end Hal! Jump! And join the ever increasing masses and dive into the pool ! Get soaking wet! Then go forth and be the miracle so others may come.
Walking along the pale two dimensional story board that had been my life lately I never again expected to find anything that could turn this poorly constructed comic book into a three dimensional pop up book about my fabulous life. The days of thinking about my existence in those terms had been crushed years ago and the colorful dust that was at first left under my shoe had dissipated long before the dawning of the new millennium into a dull gray smoke screen.
It wasn’t such a bad place to spend time really. Gone were the dramatic up and down swings, like in your favorite marvel comic adventure. Replaced by a steady droning of life’s routine. That comforting continuous sound of giving up and giving in that lulled me asleep. Never to awake? Complete deflation.
The deflation started so quietly. One day I began to think: Who needs the parties, the men, the nameless faceless countless encounters here in meat space (Stolen from Ken Wilber). Who needs marches, let the younger queers have it. I am tired. Who even remembers what the fighting was all about (I miss the 80’s; at least the enemy was something other than myself). Who needs the countless drag (Big Dottie ad nauseam) and leather incarnations. Ironically, two sides of the same coin. Who needs the dancing ‘til 4am oblivious to all your surroundings (pure bliss – sometimes with flags). Being gay is only a small part of who I really am, right? (Who am I kidding? Being alone and in Texas, it is just easier to go partially back into the closet behind the guise of my pseudo new-age bullshit). I need to look for my validation elsewhere; I need to be a part of the Big Out There!
So slowly, with 12 steps, psychotherapy, isolation and a sitcom lobotomy I began to erase the beautiful colors from my story board. The colors that I spent so many years experimenting with and perfecting that were unique to me. Colors that for a few short years I painted with broad strokes, proud and loud and in your face. No apologies, no regrets, no explanations, and no validation needed! Colors that began with Red. Red blood. Red ribbons. Seeing red because I have IT! But not being content with one note, one color, and one cry of pathetic helplessness, I exploded (given lemons, make lemonade). I experienced life, all of it in short order! My colors became as countless as the stars and my joy as infinite.
But my time of infinite joy of feeling truly alive seems to have passed. (I wished I would have recognized it as such. I would have enjoyed it more). My “now” life is routine, predictable, grown-up. Complete decoloration (monochrome, not even black and white). This has been my mantra for sometime now, starting sometime late last century. It is who I have become.
Stop!
Let’s get out of this maudlin middle land, this fence straddling Odyssey that would make Homer think twice about penning his real or imagined life!
Quit living life as if it was over or that the best part of it is behind you. Learn your lessons once and for all! The joy! The colors! Even the monochrome. They are you! Still those voices from your fundamental hells and believe! There never was a fall!
Gather with those who have come with you through the fog! Be the mirror! Bend time! Back to the future! See that I am, you are all there is! Beauty! Power! Love! Beyond comprehension… except comprehension is inevitable.
There is enough! There always has been enough! Stop dipping your toe in the shallow end Hal! Jump! And join the ever increasing masses and dive into the pool ! Get soaking wet! Then go forth and be the miracle so others may come.
Introduction
My goal in this blog is to express my joys and sorrows in this my mid-life. I am definitely am celebrating some things about getting older and becoming more invisible in our youth obsessed society. In some ways the pressure is off an I can concentrate on more cerebral and spiritual aspects of my life.
But I must admit there are still many times I long for the attention of being "young and beautiful" and the shear volume of all things Hedonistic available to a good looking younger gay man. So join me on this existential crisis of my post gay life and let's see where it takes us.
But I must admit there are still many times I long for the attention of being "young and beautiful" and the shear volume of all things Hedonistic available to a good looking younger gay man. So join me on this existential crisis of my post gay life and let's see where it takes us.
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