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.


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.

When legendary AIDS treatment activist Spencer Cox died on December 18, 2012, the cause of death was AIDS-related complications, which is understandable if post-traumatic stress, despair, and drug addiction are complications related to AIDS.

During the 2012 Atlanta Pride parade and festival, Mark S. King takes in the sights with his usual humor and asks a simple question: if HIV is nothing to be ashamed of, is it something to be proud of?

All of the six video blogs produced by “My Fabulous Disease” during AIDS2012 (the international AIDS conference) in Washington, DC, July 21-27, 2012.

In this farewell video posting, I pay tribute to the people on the front lines who are the very essence of this conference. They are the ones with the “star power,” and they fill me with renewed commitment and energy that might possibly last until AIDS2014 in Melbourne, Australia.

You’re about to meet drag queens who make their living handing out condoms, sex workers demanding an end to criminalization, young prevention workers from far-flung corners of the planet, a stunning photo exhibit from the Ukraine… the list goes on.

The people included in the video can speak for themselves, and quite eloquently. Maybe it was the emotions of the event — anger, nervousness, pride — but it was an exhausting day. I felt the residue of grief for lost friends in a way I haven’t experienced in years.

It depicted a prevailing truth about gay sexual behavior “post AIDS,” and arguably encouraged risky sexual adventure-seeking. It led to the saturation of bareback porn online. To dismiss this film, to minimize its social and cultural impact, would be unwise indeed.

“… the sheer madness of the crimes, and the killer’s insane determination to make it as shocking as possible, was sickeningly familiar to a recovering methamphetamine addict like me.”

The music my friends liked when I was a teenager intimidated me. It was the head-banging rock of the early seventies, and it felt alien and unappetizing. Most of all, it just felt… straight, in a way I knew I could never be. Alone in my room, I listened to my beloved...

To receive notifications on my latest posts.