One can easily connect the dots between the activists shown in the Oscar nominated documentary “How to Survive a Plague” and these treatment advocates trying to take HIV research across the finish line.


One can easily connect the dots between the activists shown in the Oscar nominated documentary “How to Survive a Plague” and these treatment advocates trying to take HIV research across the finish line.

Hooray, HIV negative gay men! Let’s show some love for our negative brothers, who’s with me?

“We condemn attempts to label us as ‘victims,’ which implies defeat, and we are only occasionally ‘patients,’ which implies passivity, helplessness, and dependence upon the care of others. We are ‘people with AIDS.’”

Negotiations between myself and POZ Magazine were heated, I will admit. First they claimed Leibovitz was busy and Scavullo was dead, and then they rejected my request for body painting at the studio to sculpt my abs. Oh, and I had to wear a shirt.

At a recent town hall forum in Washington, DC for people living with HIV, the very idea of what it means to be positive -- and who is our national voice of advocacy -- was questioned. With the demise of The National Association of People with AIDS (NAPWA) earlier this...

In a final act of staking my claim, 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 was knocked out by these people and their daily courage and fortitude. I really want to thank this group for taking me into their homes and lives and allowing me to share their stories with you.

What, then, is the responsibility of LGBT media in this climate of rising infection rates and a bored readership? Do they have a responsibility to serve as advocates for better public awareness?

My dismay over my facial wasting pitted two strong emotions against one another: my pride in being a longtime HIV/AIDS survivor, and my shame for looking like one.

My conundrum: exploring the pleasures of my tush while fighting the terror that something stinky might be going on down there. I suspect I am not alone in this anxiety.

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