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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Orpheus Rabbit's LiveJournal:

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    Thursday, October 9th, 2008
    12:13 am
    huntsville: observations
    everything in this place seems like a miniature to me; the countertops of my parents' house are shorter, the doorframes set lower. i wander through a dollhouse version of my childhood, barely brushing the depths of my own past. yet even while i am always the tallest in the room, i stand with my hands clasped behind my back and feel tiny, awkward, and helpless. so many machines. so much noise, beeping and whirring, clicking and pumping, these automated life-tenders, every doctor tending to a different organ or function of the body--veins, bowels, blood, urine, breathing, liver, and of course the tumor.

    ironically it is the effectiveness of chemotherapy and radiation treatment which has brought us to our current impasse. the tumor's activity has shrunk from 20 to 6, and its size along with it; because it is no longer placing the same amount of pressure on her bile duct, the stint that had been placed there to keep it draining properly had come loose last wednesday night, sending her into septic shock. after surviving the critical first 24 hours of this complication, they found that she had fluid surrounding her lungs and several blood clots within the same area. so in this hospital bed she remains, full of wires and tubes, her skin faintly (though encouragingly faded) yellow, her hair a bristle of grey the likes of which i'd never witnessed so dramatically. the burgundy and fuschia tones she prefers fade at the edges of each follicle.

    her feet are swollen and her face is sunken, though overall her size and shape seem unchanged. over the last two days i've watched her grow more restless and listened to the unsettling rasp in her voice diminish, though not disappear. she is frustrated by her inability to sit up of her own accord, and it is this very frustration that encourages me--this is the spark flashing behind her eyes, piercing the cloudiness of dilaudid and engendering a fiercer fight, if for no other reason than knowing the panic and fear behind my own gaze, pleading for an end of helplessness.

    my father's pastor came in today, and i almost introduced myself as "the heathen in california." instead i held my tongue and listened to his sermon, stood (but later sat) long enough to reach the end of his prayer to jesus. my mother thanked me for being so enduring of such a missionary barrage, to which i replied: "i did my best to hear the intent instead of the delivery." she liked that.

    i've been thrown into a game already in progress, and i don't know its rules. i do my best to keep up, and i do my best to appear competent in the face of these circumstances in which i understand barely more than what i control.

    -ss
    Tuesday, July 17th, 2007
    9:29 am
    unbelievable...
    ...sometimes i feel like i've just woken up one day inhabiting someone else's life. although that may sound like a twilight zone episode, it's actually indicative good things for me.

    the ball is rolling. a friend of scrumbly,the creator of wilde boys, was in the audience at one of our final shows; he himself was writing a script. he was apparently so impressed by my performance that he emailed scrumbly asking if i could audition for him. that audition came around this past saturday--though after our prior communications, the audition itself seemed largely a formality. and indeed, yesterday i got the call--i'm officially cast in the upcoming SF Buffoons' production "the hasheesh eater" at the San Francisco Fringe Festival.

    then, last night: a message on myspace from SF Boylesque: "you should come play with us."

    in one day. confirmation of my next official project AND an invitation to perform with the newest san francisco queer cabaret sensation. is this really my life? this is what i signed up for...

    it almost makes me cry. in a good way...
    Friday, June 8th, 2007
    10:58 am
    the reviews are in!
    and enthusiastic they are, i might add!

    the kilt thing seems to have caught many folks attention...

    and here's the review that's simultaneously most astonishing and somehow disheartening...but then, we all have our merits, eh?...
    Monday, May 21st, 2007
    6:01 pm
    my upcoming show
    Friday, April 27th, 2007
    10:24 pm
    sorry i won't crawl out of my hole more often to journal....
    ....but just to be random:  any chance that there's one of my friends in atlanta who's crazy or bored enough to come hang out with me at hartsfield intl airport sometime between 5:45AM and 7:30AM, this Sunday morning?...

    just a short layover on my way to short mountain for beltaine...since it's in a very familiar place, figured i'd just toss it out there and see if anyone bites.
    Thursday, September 14th, 2006
    4:32 pm
    Brooklyn--Manhattan
    New York, New York
    It’s been five fucking years
    and the world’s still ending...
    I’m standing in this room with Katie
    and how many strangers
    all these pictures,
    words, the pain still fresh
    –throbbing through the layers of concrete
    under my feet.

    Manhattan New York I love you so much
    I do really I swear
    this feeling arises in me unfamiliar;
    this connection to you like my lover
    (like when I know his thoughts or that his ears
    must be cold in this fog or that it’s
    not yet time to let go)

    Suddenly but not so sudden
    Really
    I realize what happened on that
    scar of a date which I am too ashamed to name
    (please tell me somebody when days on the calendar
    or a name that’s supposed to be for a person
    became events instead of these things
    they’d been before
    but never will be again?)

    Jesus god holy fuck help me please
    this really did happen; the immensity
    slams into me like tons of steel--
    I can’t breathe (they couldn’t breathe
    the smoke the ash Christ almighty please)
    where am I? Brooklyn New York
    New York
    where now you can see from across the water
    but you couldn’t from there not the first time
    the first time I saw you in person too young too stupid
    I never thought about something so big
    (hadn’t voted but then stood agape
    as the ape
    stole the throne then called it his own...)

    I see now they really did this
    and so did we
    never have been by the financial district
    still can’t do it
    I’m sorry so sorry
    Really
    I wasn’t there for you then and I’m not
    sure I’m there for you now
    I’m in Brooklyn and even in this spacious gallery
    the walls are closing in the choke tightens between
    Adam’s apple and the empty spaces behind my nose & eyes
    (emptiness, absence, a concept so immediate standing here
    New York
    see?  An endless field of vision interrupted by slate
    for city blocks–sixteen acres they razed
    only to come to this)
    I can’t cry not even here not even now although
    it’s all I seem to be capable of at intervals
    five years five goddamn years after I stood
    in the living room with Christy and the news was
    always on television and we were afraid
    “the center cannot hold”
    she said and it was apocalypse; still is but
    we weren’t there and can’t ever say we were--
    helpless grief and confusion today (and then)
    pointless guilt at arriving at present unscathed:
    witnesses but not survivors...

    Flying is like falling in a different direction
    though both we now see can have the same ending
    so enormous so fathomless the size the scope
    Manhattan shrouded like the Sunset, San Francisco but
    it was cremation hovering in the gaps
    between the buildings and the not-buildings

    Standing is like collapsing
    when I’m here in Brooklyn when
    I was there
    my heart felt explosions while it also
    shrank away like indifference or security

    New York
    New York
    it really happened
    I love you more than home.

    9/14/06
    Saturday, June 17th, 2006
    3:17 pm
    what's new with me?....
    So I'm just going to forget about any kind of explanation of why it's been so long since I've posted. All I can really say is that I'm a different person now than when I started this journal--unfortunately, that's a person who finds it very difficult to make time for LJ, or even a paper journal for that matter. I live a fast-paced existence in San Francisco, and somehow the priority level of journaling has dropped drastically; perhaps because I've grown better at managing my problems without working them out on paper? Anyway...

    Things have now gotten to a point where there's so much that has changed in my life that I feel a need to alert the world (or at least that slice of world which has interest in my place in it). Of course, some things haven't changed; I'm still working at Maxfield's House of Caffeine, still go-go dancing wherever and whenever I can, still going to the gym (actually, if you can believe it, I've pushed past 200 pounds now. Pretty beefy, I guess, but I still have a neck and everything...don't worry). However, there's been two major changes that have conspired to make 2006 the best year of my life so far.

    Firstly, I am now sharing a beautiful 3-bedroom Edwardian flat with Taures and Doyle. Yes, six years after we first visited San Francisco and declared that we wanted to live here together...we have finally made it happen, and it is simply wonderful. We moved in mid-January, and the first month was like one long slumber party--the three of us staying up half the night sitting on one roomies' bed or another, chatting, gossiping, and laughing our asses off like high-school girls. I once said that I would never again take a chance on living with Doyle, but when things started coming together, it was obvious to me that it was the right thing--indeed, the only thing--to do. And I've found that Taures' presence tends to triangulate the more difficult points of how Doyle and I interact; there's a magick in the three of us together that makes something even more fantastic than our individual beings. Not to mention the fact that, when you get down to it, these are my two best friends--whose love for me (and mine for them) has meant more than nearly anything else in my reality for over seven years. Remembering that makes it easier to overlook the irritating roommate things that we all do to one another. (Hell, I'm one obsessive-compulsive S-O-B; I can't be easy to live with, either. These guys might be close to the only two people I can think of who can stand sharing a place with me!)

    Despite the above, Taures and I both harbor ambitions of moving to New York City within the next three years. (I suppose this could count as a third big development I wanted to share--you'll get the second after this.) We've both been flirting with the Big Apple for about a year and a half, and as for me? I see it as the last challenge I have left in the USA, not to mention the only other place in the states which I see holding real, powerful opportunities for me and my art, such as it is. Cliche though it may be...if I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere. Where club business is concerned, the whole club kid/go-go boy scene is a 7-days-a-week affair, as opposed to the sporadic (and often under-attended) events here. Somehow, SF's club scene never quite returned to what it had been before the dot-com bubble-and-bust; it's simply too difficult to interest large groups of people in clubs every day of every week. On that tack, it may just be a matter of population; New York has such an insane number of people living in it, that even if the same people don't go to the same places every week like clockwork, there's always still a critical mass. Plus, besides nightlife employment, there's the sheer electric thrill of Manhattan--the feeling of all those millions of people buzzing around and doing their things, like electricity on a giant grid under your feet that you can just plug into as you walk. That underlying sensation that when you walk out the door, anything can happen around the next corner; you could see a Broadway star at the corner espresso bar (happened to me!), or you might look around your capoeira class and see 3 famous models (happened to my coworker!), or maybe afterhours you find yourself at a party doing coke with an international DJ and an 80s pop star (happened to a roommate who shall remain nameless!)...I met Michael Cunningham (author of The Hours and A Home At the End of the World) at an enormous dance party called "Alegria"...New York City is a vortex for all this creative energy, all this multimedia industry. I've tasted it and I want more!

    Taures is never terribly forward with his plans, but I believe he'll be staying till at least next summer, whereas I have decided that I need to wait until after I turn 30 (that'll be in October of 2007 for those who haven't kept up) to move--since I can have a much more extravagant 3rd-decade birthday bash here than I could in NYC after having lived there for only a year and a half, tops. So, even though it's in the works, or at least on the board, it's nothing I'm feeling in any hurry about; I find it a comfort just to know that there IS another step to take...something on the horizon to take on at the right moment. After New York? Well, hell, if I don't finally put down permanent roots there, I guess I'll just have to jump the pond...

    Now. The development in my life that I most wanted to share, and the reason that today is the day I'm posting....

    Six months ago, on Saturday, December 17th, something happened to me that has completely changed my life. Because on that night, after a long day of cross-city pre-holiday socializing and errand-running, I was determined to go out dancing, even if I had no one to go with...and at a club called Adonis, my eyes fell on a man walking off of the dancefloor who was about to walk into my life in a major way.

    Yes, ladies and gentlemen: I am in love. So madly, deeply, passionately in love, I realize that nothing I had ever experienced prior could even be called by the same name. Looking back on this very journal, I see that all my previous dalliances were nothing more than adolescent play....and yet, each one was preparing me for this, making me open and ready and understanding of what it is to give and receive True Love.

    Six months. In case you didn't know, that is easily more than triple the length of any relationship I've tried to sustain before...and I see no end in sight. I have finally found true, healthy happiness with another man. I can't even explain in words the joy he brings me.

    A little bit about him, then: his name is Edwin. He's originally from Puerto Rico, moved to Miami when he was 20, then to New York City about 10 years ago. He turned 44 in February (though you really wouldn't know by looking!). He works for United Airlines--the main reason why this has been able to work at all; one of my cardinal rules had always been "no long-distance relationships," but not only did I want him in my life so much that I threw the rules out the window...as a flight attendant, he's in SFO a good bit--it was two days a week in May, and so far this month, once a week. I'll admit that this has been a great test of faith for me--being forced to believe in something even when it's not constantly right there in front of me; when sometimes I don't get as much affirmation as my ego craves. I have been walking the journey of Orpheus once again: always going forward, required to believe in a lover that I cannot see in front of me or sense behind me...knowing that I cannot turn back in doubt because doing so could lose me everything. Still, the further on we go, the less I doubt, the more I believe our bond stretches across the miles and pulls us back together again. I never take him for granted, but I have begun to be comfortable with the concept that I might be worth hanging onto for him. In a way, that is how I have gotten the most out of this relationship; it has taught me a depth of self-worth that I never understood before. To see this man--with the body of a god made flesh, in my eyes--lying next to me, night after night...at some point an epiphany crept in, that if a man like this could want me, then perhaps I am truly desirable; and if a man like this can hold me in his arms and give me love, then perhaps I am actually worthy of such love. Perhaps?!...of course. I should have believed this all along; we should all believe it of ourselves. You know as well as I do, however, that such belief in our own self-worth is often difficult. I also know, that even if our relationship dissolved tomorrow (though I would mourn), I have taken that lesson to heart; how could I ever settle for less than perfect happiness in my life, after this? I know that I deserve it. And I can now truly treat myself like I'm a person worthy of love and happiness. I've learned to care for myself better, and I've also learned to pay more attention to those around me...I'd never realized before how absorbed I was in my own search for love and validation, to the frequent exclusion of the needs of those around me. (Mind you, I still can't go a day without burbling happily about something-or-other-Edwin, but I'm also usually aware enough to shut up and listen to what those around me are saying--and anyway, sharing my joy is better than constantly complaining!) I suppose it makes good sense that when you stop treating love with poverty consciousness, you have more to share with others.

    (And if you're curious by now what this fellow looks like: here's a pic a photographer friend of mine took of us when we were out dancing in April.)

    So....there you have it. The most important details of everything that's been keeping me busy these days. There's much more, of course--in fact, I will openly admit (since some readers know already anyway) that there are certain details of most of my updates which I have, for the time being, deliberately omitted. Why? Because a) it's been a long time since I've posted like this, and I confess my level of capability to explain things is waning proportionately to the increase of my exhaustion; b) some details of some stuff, while public knowledge, are also sensitive information in addition to being someone else's business, so before I go posting something huge about it, I'd like to verify consent; and c) certain complications would sound like a bigger deal to many readers than they are to me, and it was wisely pointed out to me recently that "The more you feel a need to explain the more others will feel a need to rebuke you, because it sounds like you're asking to be saved from yourself when you constantly explain it." (Geez, Brian, when did you suddenly become the wise big brother? ;-) )

    So, before I lose all ability to form coherent thoughts, I'm going to go ahead and post this. I hope everyone out there is healthy and happy, I hope you've all enjoyed hearing some of what's bringing me joy these days, and I hope to hear from many of you in the near future. I can't promise that I'll be posting a follow-up soon, but you never know what might happen....


    I love you all.

    -s

    PS--If you're wondering why everything's suddenly capitalized correctly in my posting, it's because I initially typed this post in WordPerfect, to be sure it wasn't lost somehow...and I don't know how to turn off the darned auto-capitalizing function!
    Saturday, October 8th, 2005
    1:42 pm
    Chiaroscuro (pt. 1)
    Laying down my note in his bedroom's threshold,
    I use his soft snoring to gauge the chances of my exit
    being successful;
    if whether i will be in the elevator or on the sidewalk or further
    before his breathing changes slightly--
    semi-consciously his body will remember the absence
    of another laying next to his...

    I imagine his awakening to my hasty scrawling at his door
    as i sip coffee at a nearby diner;
    reading a magazine borrowed from his apartment,
    another article documenting our culture at war:
    "...gays don't form lasting, healthy relationships..."
    Their weapon, another tired idiom
    (a word one small cross away from "idiot")
    which i try to digest as i contemplate
    the lists i could make
    of friends i have known for a third of my short life, or more,
    the loved ones who are family more fiercely and deeply adored
    than the casualties of the Exodus camps, their parents, or clergy.
    Then again i think of his snores faltering
    as the sunlight spills into shallow, cold craters
    left by my muscles in the linen next to him.

    Ten years now i have honed a dancer's craft;
    beginning awkward and gangly in a high school dance class,
    now i see myself moving with a constant grace--
    occasionally stumbling,
    but never falling.
    Five years now i have battled weights and machines;
    once a scrawny, vulnerable child
    I now see in the mirror a strong and solid man.
    Yet i think back on those steamy days and nights in the South;
    remember what it was like to fall
    what it was like to be vulnerable
    and even as i cringe to hear myself called a baby,
    here on the cusp of 28 years,
    I almost wish i could be that boy again.

    10/8/05
    Tuesday, June 21st, 2005
    7:13 pm
    reunionitis
    hiya girls....

    um.

    ticket prices for any flight to nashville or huntsville are still about $500, minimum, for the dates i need to fly. unfortunately, due to extensive travel this spring and summer, i cannot take more than 1 day off of work for the reunion, and flights for weekend trips are heinously overpriced during summer. though i have been looking forward to the reunion for years, it seems absurd to use such a chunk of my vacation savings for a weekend in huntsville--even one such as this. i hit up my parents for help (frequent flier miles and whatnot), but to no avail.

    it occurs to me as i contemplate this, that my motivations for the reunion are, in many ways, revenge-based. when i gave it some thought, it occurred to me that my delusions-of-grandeur, return-of-the-prodigal scenarios (as i have staged them in the past), while mostly satisfying (in a smirky, self-satisfied sort of way) at the time, are frankly embarrassing to me in retrospect. my life, my achievements, and my self-concept stand on their own and need neither the validation nor the disdain of forgotten members of my past to be upheld. it would have been great to find out what happened to the people in our class who i genuinely care about and lost touch with, but i hope that you both can fill me in a bit after the fact--and of course feel free to give my contact info (and my regrets for the absence) to anyone who asks.

    my other primary motivation for attendance was, of course, a chance to see the two of you, but luckily i am blessed to remain in consistent touch with you, and if the fates favor us, we'll all be out here on the left coast at the same time for a bit before year's end--at which point i will gladly utilize a reunion of our own making.

    until then i remain yours,
    -s
    Wednesday, February 2nd, 2005
    7:29 pm
    Bad Skin
    Sifting through these photos of you,
    Five years now passed between us--
    I feel stricken by how boyish you appear:
    Red spots dapple your brow,
    a testament (perhaps) to Southern climates
    or certain cruelties of youth,
    and hormones.
    I even now remember how the passions swelled
    in you, back then;
    Embarrassingly, as always seems to be the case
    in such hindsights,
    Just as i cringe at the hairstyles, the expressions,
    Awkwardness i fear inescapable.

    Here now, this black-and-white:
    On its back reads,
    "Pride weekend
    2002
    Atlanta, GA."
    This i remember well. It was
    Piedmont Park;
    We were rushing from one party
    to the next,
    When someone called his name
    and his head turned
    --snap--
    The last weekend of his life
    captured in this moment's ephemera
    (Strange and timeless in some way
    which compelled me to contemplate this glossy
    for hours)
    yet i do not mourn the loss of that moment,
    Nor of that younger man.

    How many hours is it,
    That i have studied your body in candlelight,
    Watching shadows play off the curves and lines
    which were never there before?
    Colors dancing as the flame flickers
    and light leaps upon the inks embedded across
    This strange skin--
    This stranger's skin--
    Our eyes meet in the cool glass once more.
    Would i have known you in the bad skin,
    I wonder,
    In those sweltering Southern summers?
    Would i now be struck speechless,
    rendered dumb by a vague and nameless shame?
    Will i be unknowable to you in the future--
    another five years, another city, another lifetime?

    Brightly burning fire stays lit inside
    as i blow candles a kiss
    and curl up with questions, and
    sleep to dream.
    Tuesday, December 7th, 2004
    11:07 pm
    Black Tar
    Waking up soapy-smelling
        and sore next to you
    I was victim of an accident, a
        wreck waiting to happen

    I was doing shots of you
    But i didn't quit
        when i needed to
    Then you were too much
        in my blood--
    Neither of us belonged behind
        that wheel...

    Our love had been combustion,
        but the engine stalled
    In the alley behind that club.

    You were my black tar baby
        dirty--seductive--addictive
    Come from across the border
    Here to fuck me up

    You were a demon lover
        but i couldn't stay
    Possessed by you...

    That fire
    Burned brighter than mortal understanding
        and i, Prometheus
    Laid damned then for demanding
    Its heat, its power
        and its source

    Funny and dopesick how
        love seems like addiction sometimes
    Now i've kicked and i'm cleaner than
        i ever got in your shower--
    Twelve steps and more i've taken
        away from you
    The poison hasn't touched my lips again.

    concept-4/12/03
    fragment-6/10/03
    conclusion-12/7/04
    Tuesday, November 30th, 2004
    7:40 pm
    Third Monday
    third monday always follows third sunday--
    certain as clockwork and
    death, taxes.

    i took this one off to recover and
    thank my foresight at
    six-thirty. i am still awake and
    would typically be brewing everyone
    else's coffee right now

    (my host informs that his
    coffeemaker has started
    automatically)

    he has a few cups as i recline in
    his bed, feeling greasy,
    sore. i want to sleep
    but cannot. instead i
    stretch out under his comforter and
    close my eyes, try to breathe
    properly through my nose
    because my lips are
    too dry but my lip balm is
    somewhere on his floor, in my
    pants pocket

    he kisses me lightly
    (coffee-and-cigarette breath)
    then heads for his shower. i
    lay in his bed, calm and
    still--breath whistling through
    congested nostrils and
    limbs feeling restless.

    answering machine picks up which
    pulls me back to awareness, his
    clock says it's eleven so i
    wonder if he's gone to work
    which a wander-through
    confirms

    i return to his bed, lying
    there thinking about
    you, brother--also
    the mountain. you feel
    far away and
    i do too

    (we survived your madness and
    we will survive this)
    i study my palm and
    though there is
    no scar, i rub it and
    say your name.

    his phone number is scrawled
    on a short note with a
    key beside it. i drink a
    can of his coke and
    make phone calls before
    locking this stranger's door and
    slipping his key through his
    mail slot.

    third monday and
    at lunch i think of how
    long it'll be before
    i'm home

    (we all get there
    eventually)

    11/23/04
    Monday, November 15th, 2004
    7:48 pm
    the most poignant thing i've seen about the state of the union.
    THE TRAGEDY OF TODAY'S GAYS
    An address to the gay community
    By Larry Kramer

    (A speech made at Cooper Union, New York on Sunday, November 7, 2004,
    presented by HIV Forum in conjunction with NYU's Office of LGBT Student
    Services, Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, Callen-Lorde, and the Gill
    Foundation.)

    I think this has been the most difficult speech I have ever had to write
    and to deliver. It is a long speech. I pray you will bear with me until
    its end.

    It is an attempt to give you some idea of who and what we are up
    against. It is also an attempt to discuss our ability to deal with
    these.

    I recently learned about two dear friends, both exceptionally smart and
    talented and each in his own way a leader of our community. One, in his
    middle age, has sero-converted. The other, in his middle age, has become
    hooked on crystal meth. Both of them are here with us tonight.

    I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we're better than other
    people. I really do. I think we're smarter and more talented and more
    aware and I do, I do, I totally do. And I think we're more tuned into
    what's happening, tuned into the moment, tuned into our emotions, and
    other people's emotions, and we're better friends. I really do think
    all these things.

    To us it defies rational analysis that this incompetent dishonest man
    and his party should be re-elected. Or does it?

    I hope we all realize that, as of November 2nd, gay rights are
    officially dead. And that from here on we are going to be led even
    closer to the guillotine. This past week almost 60 million of our
    so-called "fellow" Americans voted against us. Indeed 23% of
    self-identified gay people voted against us, too. That one I can't
    figure.

    The absoluteness of what has happened is terrifying. On the gay marriage
    initiatives alone 2.6 million against us in Michigan. 3.2 million in
    Ohio. 1.1 million in Oklahoma, 2.2 million in Georgia. 1.2 million in
    Kentucky. George Bush won his Presidency of our country by selling our
    futures. Almost 60 million people whom we live and work with every day
    think we are immoral. "Moral values" was top of many lists of why people
    supported George Bush. Not Iraq. Not the economy. Not terrorism. "Moral
    values." In case you need a translation that means us. It is hard to
    stand up to so much hate. Which of course is just the way they want it.
    Please know that a huge portion of the population of the United States
    hates us. I don't mean dislike. I mean hate. You may not choose to call
    it hate, but I do. Not only because they refuse us certain marital
    rights but because they have also elected a congress that is overflowing
    with men and women who refuse us just about every other right to exist
    as well. "Moral values" is really a misnomer; it means just the reverse.
    It means they think we are immoral. And that we're dangerous and
    contaminated. How do you like being called immoral by some 60 million
    people? This is not just anti-gay. This is what Doug Ireland calls "homo
    hate" on the grandest scale. How do we stand up to 60 million people who
    have found a voice and a President who declares he has a mandate?

    The new Supreme Court, due any moment now, will erase us from the slate
    of everything possible in no time at all. Gay marriage? Forget it. Gay
    anything, forget it. Civil rights for gays? Equal protection for gays.
    Adoption rights? The only thing we are going to get from now on is years
    of increasing and escalating hate. Surely you must know this. Laws and
    regulations that now protect us will be repealed and rewritten. Please
    know all this. With the arrival of this second term of these hateful
    people we come even closer to our extinction. We should have seen it
    coming. We are all smart people. How could we not have been prepared?

    They have not exactly been making a secret of their hate. This last
    campaign has seen examples of daily hate on TV and in the media that I
    do not believe the world has witnessed since Nazi Germany. I have been
    reading Ambassador Dodd's Diary; he was Roosevelt's ambassador to
    Germany in the 30's, and people are always popping in and out of his
    office proclaiming the most awful things out loud about Jews. It has
    been like that.

    And Mary Cheney is a lesbian! Even her mother is hateful! That
    Cheney must be one fucked-up kid to stick around that family. I hope she
    doesn't want to teach school. One of the reelected Congress persons vows
    to make it illegal for lesbians to teach school.

    I know many people look to me for answers. Perhaps that is why many of
    you are here. You want answers? We're living in pigshit and its up to
    each one of us to figure out how to get out of it. You must know that by
    now. Crystal meth is not an answer. You must know that by now. And quite
    frankly statistically it is only happening to so few of us that it is
    hard to get anyone worked up about that problem. Just as it hard to get
    worked up about a middle-aged man with brains who sero-converts. You
    want to kill yourself? Go kill yourself. I'm sorry. It takes hard work
    to behave like an adult. It takes discipline. You want it to be simple?
    It isn't simple. Yes it is. Grow up. Behave responsibly. Fight for your
    rights. Take care of yourself and each other. These are the answers. It
    takes courage to live. Are you living? Not so I can see it. Gay people
    are all but invisible to me now. I wish you weren't. But you are. And I
    look real hard.

    No one likes to be told to grow up. It's insulting. But these are always
    the answers. They will always be the answers. The only answers. There
    will never be any other answers. Grow up. Behave responsibly. Fight for
    your rights. Take care of yourself and each other. Be proud of yourself.
    Be proud you are gay. I don't know why so many find all this so
    complicated. But then I am 69 years old and have less patience for the
    many problems I had myself when young. It is one of the privileges of
    getting old.

    It is 25 years since 100,000 of us marched on Washington.

    The AIDS service organizations are all about to collapse. No money. And
    the problem is too big to handle anymore. We have not slowed this thing
    down at all. $100 billion we're spending on Iraq. This is a conscious
    choice by our "leaders" and by a large portion of the population of this
    country. They have in their infinite and never-ending cruelty decided
    this was the most effective thing to do with 100 billion dollars that
    might also end AIDS, and a few other things like worldwide hunger. But
    the cabal doesn't care about these. People say well we can't take care
    of the rest of the world. That is so stupid. The rest of the world is
    us. We are so intertwined geopolitically that we cannot separate
    ourselves off into parts, into sections. Those days are over. If they
    ever were here. We have everything required to save the world except the
    will to do it. In a recent New Yorker piece Michael Specter writes that
    because of AIDS, Russia is on its way to disappearing. Disappearing.
    Imagine that.

    The immense knowledge we have learned about AIDS has provided us with
    precious little more than that knowledge. HIV/AIDS is now the worst
    disaster in recorded human history. In parts of Africa 7,000 people are
    infecting each other each and every day. We who are here are idiots if
    we think this fact is not going to alter our lives mightily. If your
    company loses enough world markets, which it most certainly will, you
    are going to lose your job. You will not have health insurance, for a
    start. And for a finish. Economies are simply going to collapse. This is
    already happening.

    In 1990, that is some nine years into what was happening, 46% of gay men
    in San Francisco were still fucking without condoms.

    60% of the syphilis in America today is in gay men. Excuse me, men who
    have sex with men.

    Palm Springs has the highest number of syphilis cases in California.
    Palm Springs?

    I do not want to hear each week how many more of you are becoming hooked
    on meth.

    HIV infections are up as much as 40%.

    You cannot continue to allow yourselves and each other to act and live
    like this!

    One of these days the miraculous drugs we have to keep us alive are
    going to stop working. Our systems cannot process these extreme
    chemotherapies indefinitely. That is what we are on. We are on daily
    chemotherapy. No one wants to call it that. We call it "the cocktail." We
    are on chemotherapy! Chemotherapy either kills the disease or kills us!
    What are we going to do when they don't work any longer?

    Some 70 million people so far are expected to die. "July 3, 1981, Rare
    cancer seen in 41 homosexuals." When I first started yelling about
    whatever it was there were 41 cases. THERE ARE NOW OVER 70 MILLION WHO
    HAVE BEEN INFECTED WITH HIV. Somebody up there is really listening,
    don't you think? There is no way that all infected people can be saved.
    No one ever says that out loud. Have you noticed? Somehow in some dream
    world we are going to get treatment into 70 million people. It is never
    going to happen. IT IS TOO LATE. We told them. But they didn't do
    anything. Did you notice? Nobody every does anything. I hope it's
    finally dawning on you that maybe they didn't and don't want to. So, in
    case you haven't noticed, we have lost the war against AIDS. I thought
    I'd tell you that, too. I hope you might have noticed. I can't tell.

    The President refuses to buy generic drugs for dying people. He is still
    saying he is waiting to hear if they are safe. These drugs have been
    approved. In some cases for several years. Does this sound like a
    President who wants to save anyone?

    I do not understand why some of you believe that because we have drugs
    that deal with the virus more or less effectively that it is worth the
    gamble to have unprotected sex. These drugs are not easy to take. There
    are many side effects. Not life- but certainly comfort-threatening. I
    must allow at least one day out of every week or two to feel really
    shitty, to have no sleep, to be constipated, to have diarrhea, to
    require blood tests and monitoring at hospitals or in doctors' offices,
    and to have the shakes. The shakes, which come often, are not useful
    with a mouse or reading a newspaper or with a lover in your arms. And I
    don't enjoy eating anymore. Keeping on weight is a constant problem. I
    have dry mouth. I get up six or seven times a night to pee. Many of the
    meds we are now taking are new meds and were approved quickly and side
    effects have a sneaky way of showing up after FDA approval, not before.
    I recently discovered that I was taking an FDA approved dose of Viread
    that has turned out to be five times the amount I actually need. We are
    all probably taking too much or too little of every single one of our
    drugs. Doctors don't want to test for this; tests are not readily
    available. You have to do a lot of homework yourselves on these drugs.
    Is a fuck without a condom worth not being able to taste food? Obviously
    for too many of you it is.

    My lover often sits on top of me to make me eat. The first time this
    happened I was in the hospital just after my liver transplant and I
    wouldn't eat and Dr. Fung said I had to eat, or else I would die, and I
    just couldn't eat (do you know how strange this is to someone who was
    always on a diet?). It was New Year's Eve. We were in beautiful downtown
    Pittsburgh. David had brought a hamper filled with my favorite dishes.
    And I could not eat anything. Furiously he crawled into bed with me,
    boots and all, and started to cry. "We haven't come this far for you to
    die because you won't eat," he screamed, tears streaming down his face.
    I will never forget that. I will never forget this man I love so much in
    bed with me with his snowy boots on starting slowly to spoon into me
    whatever he'd made and I trying so desperately hard to swallow it,
    looking at him, this man I love so much, doing this for me, both of us
    now bawling our eyes out and hugging each other in this strange bed in
    this strange town, wondering how we got here.

    It's so wonderful being a gay person. I said that before. I'm going to
    say it again. I love being gay. And I love gay people. I think we're
    better than other people. I really do. I think we're smarter and more
    talented and more aware and I do, I do, I totally do. And I think we're
    more tuned into what's happening, tuned into the moment, tuned into our
    emotions, and other people's emotions, and we're better friends. I
    really do think all of these things. And I try not to forget them.

    Since the very first day of this plague we have been given, almost as if
    by some cosmic intentionality, American leaders who most assuredly wish
    us dead. There can no longer be any way to deny this fact. Each day
    brings more and more acts of hatred. Tell me it is not so. Tell me that
    the amount of good that is being attempted is not totally and
    intentionally overwhelmed by the evil. Point out to me how this is not
    so. I cannot see it. I have been unable to see it since July 3, 1981. I
    thought it was because it was a tricky virus. That is what we have been
    told. It's a very tricky virus. I hoped for a while. But we are being
    played for chumps and it has been so since July 3, 1981. And we never
    saw it.

    We of course continue to be in our usual state of total denial and
    disarray. Whatever structure the gay world had, if we ever had one, is
    gone. Our organizations stink. Almost every single one of them. I cannot
    think of one single gay organization that despite the best will in the
    world is now anything but worthless to us. Oh maybe one or two. We have
    no power. Nobody listens to us. We have no access to power. The cabal
    disdains us totally. We are completely disposable. It is a horror show.
    There is not one single person in Washington who will get us or give us
    anything but shit and more shit. I'm sorry. This is where we are now:
    Nowhere. And you expect me to cry for you if you get hooked on meth or
    can't stop the circuit parties or the orgies. OK, I feel sorry for you.
    Does that change anything? I would say I feel sorry for myself, but I
    don't. I know I am fighting as hard as I can. I may not be getting
    anywhere but I am trying. It's exhausting and I have to do it every day,
    every single day, like taking my meds which if I stop I know my body
    will cease doing something or other. I have accidentally missed a few
    days of meds and boy do I know fast that was a mistake.

    I fear for us as a people. Is that crazy? I am always being called crazy
    by somebody. I love being called crazy. That's a sign to me that I'm on
    the right track. Maybe it takes a crazy person to see into the future
    and see what's coming. Straight people say "My, how much progress gay
    people are making. Isn't that Will and Grace wonderful." If it's so
    wonderful why am I scared to death? More and more I am filled with
    dread. That is my truth that I bring to you today. Larry is scared. Do
    you see what I see? I don't think so. Most gay people I see appear to me
    to act as if they're bored to death. Too much time on your hands, my
    mother would say. Hell, if you have time to get hooked on crystal and do
    your endless rounds of sex-seeking, you have too much time on your
    hands. Ah, you say, aren't we to have a little fun? Can't I get stoned
    and try barebacking one last time. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND! At
    this moment in our history, no, you cannot. Anyway, we had your fun and
    look what it got us into. And it is still getting us into. You kids want
    to die? Because that's what I sometimes think. Well, then, die.

    You cannot continue to allow yourselves and each other to act and live
    like this!

    And by the way, when are you going to realize that for the rest of your
    lives, probably for the rest of life on earth, you are never going to be
    able to have sex with another person without a condom! Never! Every time
    you even so much as consider this I want you to hear my voice screaming
    like crazy in your ears. STOP! DON'T! NEVER! NO WAY, JOSE! Canadian
    scientists now warn that even partners who are both un-infected should
    practice safe sex. As I understand it, more and more new viruses and
    mutant viruses and partial viruses that are not understood are floating
    around. Are you ready for that one?

    Does it ever occur to you how much you have been robbed by both your
    country and your behavior? America let the men who should have carved
    out a space for you in the social discourse, the development of your
    history and being, America let these men who should have been your role
    models die. So there is this big empty space in which you live. And you
    don't know where to go or how to fill it in. This is not my original
    thought but Michael Brown's of the NYU gay student organizations that
    helped to bring me here, who gave me this to think about. It is sad for
    a young gay person to feel this way.

    I had people to follow and many of you have not. No baton was passed to
    you. In a way you must start everything over. You must invent a world
    from which you can move forward from. This is both an extraordinarily
    exciting challenge and a terrifying one, one that can just as easily
    leave you by the wayside as make a new man of you. I say man because it
    is gay men who appear to have the greatest difficulty, it seems to me,
    in moving forward, getting off their particular dime.

    Many of you deny the horrors of what happened to your predecessors. That
    is something I do not understand. Every moral code I know of requires
    respect for the dead. I often hear that many of you don't want to know
    about them or admit to them. You disdain anyone older who was there.

    This is denial of a most destructive nature. You cannot move forward
    without accepting your past. I am going to say that again. We cannot
    move forward without accepting and understanding our past. We were as
    varied as you are. We were no different, really. We were very different
    from those who preceded us. We were the first free gay generation and we
    were murdered because of our freedom. And yes you were robbed of this
    freedom that for obvious reasons could not be passed on to you as your
    heritage. So instead of being understanding of all this, you condemn
    your predecessors to non-existence and flounder into a future that you
    seem unable to fashion into anything you can hold on to that gives you
    emotional sustenance. You refuse to be part of any community. But if you
    don't have any community you have no political strength. You are too
    busy denying and disassociating to know that. You do not seem able, it
    seems to me, to fashion your future. To discover what you want. You
    don't even ask what you want. You don't even ask what you need. Your
    needs are as mighty as needs always have been, but you don't ask what
    they are, which amazes me. How can you not have curiosity about your
    future as a gay person? Don't you want to go anywhere? Do you want to
    stay where you are? That is too bad if you do because we are about to
    enter a place more monstrously worse. You can deny that, as you deny
    those of us who went before you, but just know that down this path of
    your numerous denials lies your own continued destruction, the
    continuing destruction of gay people as gay people, which this cabal of
    haters I shall shortly describe, and its supporters, which are legion,
    are intent on accomplishing with increasingly ruthless vengeance. If you
    do not fight back you will be murdered in ways just as hideous as the
    ways in which we got murdered.

    Every single president since 1981 has denied our existence and denied
    the existence of AIDS. And we let them get away with it. Oh a few
    thousand of us fought for the drugs that we got but many millions of us
    did nothing and of course an enormous number of them died. They died
    because they lost their health along their journey of non-involvement
    and their lack of responsibility to their brothers and sisters. Instead
    of learning from this lesson, you are repeating it. And you are acting
    like this with your health intact, many of you, which strikes me as even
    more perverse than what your dead predecessors did to destroy
    themselves.

    Does it occur to you that we brought this plague of AIDS upon ourselves?
    I know I am getting into dangerous waters here but it is time. With the
    cabal breathing even more murderously down our backs it is time. And you
    are still doing it. You are still murdering each other. Please stop with
    all the generalizations and avoidance excuses gays have used since the
    beginning to ditch this responsibility for this fact. From the very
    first moment we were told in 1981 that the suspected cause was a virus,
    gay men have refused to accept our responsibility for choosing not to
    listen, and, starting in 1984, when we were told it definitely was a
    virus, this behavior turned murderous. Make whatever excuses you can to
    carry on living in your state of denial but this is the fact of the
    matter. I wish we could understand and take some responsibility for the
    fact that for some 30 years we have been murdering each other with great
    facility and that down deep inside of us, we knew what we were doing.
    Don't tell me you have never had sex without thinking down deep that
    there was more involved in what you were doing than just maintaining a
    hard-on.

    I have recently gone through my diaries of the worst of the plague
    years. I saw day after day a notation of another friend's death. I
    listed all the ones I'd slept with. There were a couple hundred. Was it
    my sperm that killed them, that did the trick? It is no longer possible
    for me to avoid this question of myself. Have you ever wondered how many
    men you killed? I know I murdered some of them. I just know. You know
    how you sometimes know things? I know. Several hundred over a bunch of
    years, I have to have murdered some of them, planting in him the
    original seed. I have put this to several doctors. Mostly they refuse to
    discuss it, even if they are gay. Most doctors do not like to discuss
    sex or what we do or did. (I still have not heard a consensus on the
    true dangers of oral sex, for instance.) They play blind. God knows what
    they must be thinking when they examine us. Particularly if they aren't
    gay. One doctor answered me, it takes two to tango so you cannot take
    the responsibility alone. But in some cases it isn't so easy to answer
    so flippantly. The sweet young boy who didn't know anything and was in
    awe of me. I was the first man who fucked him. I think I murdered him.
    The old boyfriend who did not want to go to bed with me and I made him.
    The man I let fuck me because I was trying to make my then boyfriend,
    now lover, jealous. I know, by the way, that that other one is the one
    who infected me. You know how you sometime know things? I know he
    infected me. I tried to murder myself on that one.

    Has it never, ever occurred to you that not using a condom is tantamount
    to murder? I cannot believe you have never considered this. It is such a
    simple and intelligent thought to have. And we all should have had it
    from day one. Why didn't we? That has been haunting me for a while, that
    question. Why didn't we? It is incredibly selfish not to have at least
    thought that question at that moment, all those moments when we were
    playing Russian roulette.

    From here on I am going to get even more complicated. I want you to pay
    attention. This is the most important part of this speech.

    Bill Moyers recently said this in a speech on October 20, 2004 at the
    Palace Hotel:

    "For years now, the corporate, political, and religious right -- this is
    documented from 1971 on -- the religious and political right has been
    joined in an axis of influence whose purpose is to take back the gains
    of the democratic renewal in the 20th century and restore America to a
    rule of the elites that maintain their privilege and their power at the
    expense of everyone else. For years now, a small fraction of American
    households have been garnering an extreme concentration of wealth and
    income while large corporations and financial institutions have obtained
    unprecedented levels of economic and political power over daily life."

    "Take note," Moyers continues. "The corporate, political, and religious
    conservatives are achieving a vast transformation of America that only
    they understand because they are its advocates, its architects, and its
    beneficiaries. In creating the greatest inequality in America since
    1929, they have saddled our nation, our States, and our cities and
    counties with structural defects that will last until our children's
    children are ready for retirement, and they are systematically stripping
    government of all its functions, except rewarding the rich and waging
    war."

    In other words, our country has been taken away from us by a cabal that
    includes all the people who hate us.

    These people make the rules. They are rarely elected officials. They may
    or may not know each other. They have several things in common. They are
    very rich or have strong connections to money or power. They are in
    agreement on what they do not want. They believe fervently in their God.
    And that they are doing all this for Him. And they stay in constant
    touch.

    I hope you realize that all these people Bill Moyers is talking about
    hate us. Thriller writers write better histories of our times than
    actual historians.

    Anyway, it is done. What Moyers is talking about. It's already happened.
    On a scale of such magnitude that it is difficult to see how we can ever
    take it back. It's all in place now, this cabal of power. It almost
    doesn't make any difference who is president.

    You want to know why AIDS was allowed to happen. This is your answer.
    You want to know why gay people have no power and are unlikely to get
    any. This is your answer.

    The top 1% of wealth holders control 39% of total household wealth.

    The richest 5% of households own 2/3 of the value of all stock owned in
    the our country.

    The the top 1% have as many after-tax dollars to spend as the bottom 100
    million.

    The richest 20% of households received almost 50% of the national
    income, while the bottom 20% received only 3%.

    At a time when 265 people in the United States were billionaires, 32
    million people were living beneath the official poverty line.

    This inequality gap in the United States is the highest in the
    industrialized world.

    "That drive," Moyers continues, "is succeeding with drastic consequences
    for an equitable access to public resources, the lifeblood of any
    democracy. From land, water, and natural resources, to media and the
    broadcast and digital spectrums, to scientific discovery and medical
    breakthroughs, and even to politics itself, a broad range of American
    democracy is undergoing a powerful shift in the direction of private
    control.

    "We are experiencing a fanatical drive to dismantle the political
    institutions, the legal and statutory canons, and the intellectual and
    cultural frameworks that have shaped public responsibility for social
    harms arising from the excesses of private power."

    In 1971, Lewis Powell, a Richmond lawyer who called himself a centrist,
    was secretly commissioned by the U.S. Chamber of Congress to write a
    confidential plan on how to take back America for the survival of the
    free enterprise system. Not democracy. Free enterprise. Barry Goldwater
    had lost, Nixon was about to implode, Vietnam had sucked the nation's
    soul dry, the cabal saw their world unraveling. They saw the women's
    movement, black civil rights. student war protests, the cold war. They
    saw the world as they knew it coming to an end. (We are not the first to
    feel our world crumbling and becoming powerless.)

    This is what Lewis Powell wrote: "Survival lies in organization, in
    careful long range planning, in consistency of action over an indefinite
    period of years, in the scale of financing only available through joint
    effort and in the political power available only through united action."

    This was the birth of what is now called the vast right wing conspiracy.
    It is known as the Powell Manifesto. You can google Lewis Powell (not
    the one who helped to assassinate Lincoln) and read it in its entirety.

    Under the supervision of some of the richest families in America, that
    plan has been followed faithfully since 1971 and it has resulted in
    these past years of horror and the re-election of George Bush. Nine
    families and their foundations, all under the insistent goading of
    Joseph Coors, have financed much of this. The Bradley Foundation. The
    Smith Richardson Foundation. Four Scaife Family Foundations, The John M.
    Olin Foundation. The Castle Rock (or Coors) Foundation. Three Koch
    Family Foundations. The Earhart Foundation. The JM Foundation. The
    McKenna Foundation. From 1985 to 2001 alone they contributed $650
    million to this conservative message campaign. They have helped to
    launch and gain financing for networks of newspapers and magazines. They
    have seen to it that hundreds of the most powerful think tanks have
    appeared, including the Heritage Foundation, the Hoover Institute, the
    American Enterprise, Cato, Manhattan, Hudson Institutes, and many more.
    There are now in place an ever growing number of well-funded student
    organizations at many colleges. There are legal advocacy foundations,
    such as the Center For Individual Rights and Judicial Watch. There are
    Leadership Institutes and Action Institutes and Institutes on Religion
    and Public Policy and Religion and Democracy. There is a heavily visible
    media participation Fox Television and Pat Robertson and Oliver North
    and Radio America and the Washington Times and Ann Coulter, Rush
    Limbaugh, to name but a very few, including the editorial page of the
    Wall Street Journal.

    For the preparation of this manifesto, Lewis Powell was rewarded by
    Richard Nixon with a seat on the Supreme Court, where among other things
    he voted against gays in Bowers v. Hardwick, and against Black people in
    Bakke v. University of California.

    It is vital for us to realize that this plan was written in 1971. The
    people it was written for did not go off then to a disco, or to the
    Pines or into therapy, or into drugs. They took this plan and they have
    executed it religiously every day and night for the next thirty-five
    years initially with some 400 million dollars and always from then until
    now with unending hours of backbreaking, grinding, unglamorous work, of
    civic engagements county by county across the entire expanse of America.
    They took the richest and most liberal nation in the history of
    civilization and turned it hard right into a classist, racist,
    homophobic imperial army of pirates. 30% of America now self-identify as
    conservative or extremely conservative. When Lewis Powell wrote his
    Manifesto that figure was less than 10%.

    And on the morning of November 3rd we wrung our hands and wondered why.

    And we have a community that still cannot decide on what we want or what
    to do. We are completely inept at organizing ourselves and have a
    monstrously bad record of attempting unity.

    The continuing existence of HIV is essential for the functioning of the
    totalitarianism under which gay people now live. It works out like this
    HIV allows "them" to sell us as sick. And that kills off our usefulness,
    both in our own minds, their thinking we are sick, and in the eyes of
    the world, everyone thinking we are sick. All of this obliterates the
    consciousness of those who should help us and don't. This liquidates and
    incinerates our individuality and our spontaneity, our abilities to
    fight back, to hold our oppressors to task. They want to keep HIV going
    as long as they can! Why haven't we seen that? The signs have always
    been there! But like everything else we couldn't believe them. No one
    could be as cruel as that. They want to make us superfluous. Their
    media, their newspapers, their networks will see to it that our good
    qualities are invisible.

    It should therefore come as no surprise that when HIV came along they,
    this cabal, facilitated its rapid deployment and continue to do so.
    Before even making the feeblest attempt to commence any miniscule
    response or inquiry into what their press was not reporting, which they
    most certainly knew about themselves, they waited until masses of us had
    all been exposed to the whatever it was. We on the other hand chose to
    not believe that the whatever it was was a virus until this was
    incontestably proved. But they knew what it was, or were willing to take
    the chance and hope that it was, and they just sat back and waited.
    Their wildest dreams then started to come true. The faggots were
    disappearing and they were doing it to themselves! I can locate no work
    of any urgency, or indeed much work at all on AIDS for most of the
    period between 1981-1984. Oh, many claim it, as many claim seeing cases
    many years earlier, which I also doubt, but I cannot locate whatever
    these are claiming. In those four years almost every gay man who had
    fucked in America had been exposed to the virus.

    And when they did start doing anything it was with such feebleness that
    it amounted to nothing for ten years. You can give me all kinds of
    reasons why it took so long but my research has convinced me that the
    actual scenario was completely intentional neglect. Oh, perhaps not the
    doctors or the scientists. But they had no money. And they were not
    going to get any money. Or enough money. People upstairs were going to
    see to it that there would be no money. Let even more people get
    infected first. Blacks, junkies, prostitutes. Every color of skin but
    straight white. Every religion but Christian. Excuse me, white
    Christian. Then we'll throw them a few pennies to make it look like
    we're concerned.

    The cabals Bill Moyers talked about have called all the shots in
    facilitating and accelerating the plague of AIDS. If scientists
    discovered something useful, it has rarely been available. I spoke
    earlier about the refusal of this president to allow already approved
    generic drugs out to a desperate Africa and elsewhere. Of that huge
    Congressional approval of many billions for HIV around the world that
    Bush brags about, something less that 2% has left Washington almost four
    years after its approval. Does this sound like a President and a
    government and a country that wants to help?

    I guess I have suspected behavior like this all along. But I never knew
    it in quite the way that I have now come to see it thanks to Bill Moyers
    intentionality is the only word to describe the genocidal treatment the
    world is drowning in. Much of the world, most assuredly including us,
    has been intentionally hung out to die. So far some 70 million of us.
    That is some manifesto Lewis Powell birthed. And all we have to do is
    keep fucking each other without condoms and the rest of their "moral
    issues" will be dead.

    Do you seriously think they care about the continuing rise again of HIV
    infections? They are grateful for them. Do you think they care about a
    sudden plague of crystal? They thank us for our cooperation. And we
    thought for one brief second of time that we might even be allowed to
    marry the ones we love.

    And while all this happened, even if we had enough suspicions to act,
    what did we do? We completely shrank from our duty of opposition. Those
    are Christopher Isherwood's words: "the duty of opposition." But he was
    flagellating himself with these words. He fears that should he have to
    live face to face with a war in his backyard that he "would shrink from
    the duty of opposition."

    Marriage? Forget it. Non-discrimination laws? Forget them. Those that
    have been enacted will be rescinded or amended into toothlessness.
    Adoption? Equal rights? Forget everything. We are going to be erased
    into nothingness. They hate us so much and now they are in complete and
    utter power, the most dangerous situation in the world for the unwanteds
    to live under. And I no longer think it matters who is President.
    Clinton turned out to be as rotten for us as George Bush, either one.

    Ok, keep putting your life in jeopardy. 110 of their drug companies
    certainly want you to do so. Keep dancing your asses off at circuit
    parties all over the world as you go down to the sea in ships that are
    made to intentionally capsize and take you down with them. Ok, keep
    being bored and crying for your poor selves. You ain't seen nothin' yet.
    With our complete cooperation they have already murdered several
    generations of us so far. They won't have to murder so many more of us
    to get their wish. Like Russia, we will disappear. That is what they
    want to do. Disappear us. And now they are able to officially do it.
    George Bush has his mandate. Can't you see all this! People high up
    there in their secret powwows don't want us here. Word has come down
    from on high get rid of the faggots once and for all. You think the law
    will protect us? Think again. Wait until you see the new Supreme Court.

    You are here as a gay person because of certain events and certain
    people who lived and suffered and died before you. You must learn about
    them and not continually deny their existence and importance in our
    history, the history of gay people in America. You must learn about
    them! They have made your life possible! What kind of person doesn't
    want to learn about themselves? I don't know why but you don't want to.
    Most of our fellow gays don't read books about us. Or come to plays
    about us. What do you want to do? I don't know. And for all I can tell
    in talking to many of you, you don't know either. And this is very
    frightening. A large uncongealed mass of potentially superior beings
    doesn't know what to do with themselves or bother to learn their
    history. So they dance. So they drug. So they go on to the internet to
    find more sex. These are useful lives being wasted. Why is that? Why is
    there no useful creativity going on? Why is there no mental agility
    visible, no audible questioning discussions ... almost anything of
    importance? Don't you long for some involvement in the humanity that you
    belong to, for your place in the scheme of things? You don't know how to
    make entrance on these playing fields, is that it? I don't know what is
    wrong with us. I wish you could tell me. What do you do with yourselves
    all week long, seven days and nights a week, that amounts to anything
    really important? I can't see many of you as doing anything important,
    to give your lives meaning. Oh I can see lots of frocks on the runway
    but I can't see bodies inside of them, bodies with brains and concerned
    with anything but pretty and orgasms. What do you do to make your world,
    our world, a better place? A world that needs every bit of help it can
    get, our world, not their world. You don't seem able to connect with
    anyone beyond the basest ways.

    "Why can't we look at our bodies and see not just a sexual definition?
    Why can't we see in the body all that the body represents? Sexuality,
    yes. But also mortality, humanness, humaneness, innocence, purity,
    health, sickness, strength, consideration, responsibility, divinity.
    When did we rob our bodies of all the complexity they possess? Why do we
    refuse to see all that we are capable of? All the other things that make
    us full beings." That very beautiful paragraph was written by my friend,
    Jordan Roth, who is one day going to be a very fine writer if he just
    keeps at it.

    Do you know you are taking the same crystal meth as Hitler? The stuff
    that was being used well into 1997, the government outlawed one of the
    ingredients and so the original process was resurrected, the one as used
    by the Nazis. It was first synthesized by the Germans in the early part
    of the 20th century. Hitler was a crystal addict. The new version is
    much more potent than the stuff you were taking before 1997, which is
    the main reason why it is so hard to break an addiction. Dr. Howard
    Grossman told me this bit of history. Maybe I shouldn't have told you
    about the Hitler part. To the more twisted among you it may be a
    turn-on.

    I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we're better than other
    people. I really do. I think we're smarter and more talented and more
    aware and I do, I do, I totally do. I really do think all of these
    things. And I try very hard to remember all this.

    But I am finding that I am not so proud of being gay anymore. It's come
    over me slowly. As much as I love being gay and I love gay people I'm
    not proud of us right now. It's disappeared. I almost could say we've
    disappeared. But since you are here I can't quite say that. But that's
    how I feel.

    I do not see us, don't you see? I do not see us! They are killing us.
    They are eradicating us from this earth. Little by little by little we
    are disappearing. I do not see us and I am beginning to see us less and
    less.

    I have recently come to believe that gay men and women are tragic
    people. We are so wonderful but we are also so fucked up. So blind. So
    ignorant in ways to look after ourselves. So uninterested in the Outside
    World that is subsuming us when we thought we were making them pretty
    and giving them songs to sing. So without agendas to utilize our
    wonderful-ness. We know who the enemy is and we just stand here letting
    them shoot us over and over again. WE STAND HERE AND LET THEM DO IT! All
    of the brains and abilities we have among us are useless. The smartest
    among us, our famous ones, our rich ones, seem to allow this most of
    all. The ones who should help us and speak up for us refuse that
    responsibility. We have enough rich gay men and lesbians to finance a
    takeover of the world but their brains and their money and their skills
    are not available to to help us. To lead us. To inspire us. To finance
    us. To be like Lewis Powell's Nine Families. That, too, is tragic. To
    have so much money and to not to use it for brothers and sisters, for
    family, for our continuation here on earth. Why is that? Rockefeller
    tithed himself from his very first dollar, to go to his church for his
    salvation. Please, can we get word to every rich gay person to show up
    to help save us. We need our Nine Families desperately.

    Public service--how many religions demand this of their members? How much
    public service in behalf of your brothers and sisters, your family, have
    you performed recently? Don't tell me you don't know what to do. If you
    can find another ass to fuck, and you seem endlessly inventive at
    accomplishing this, then you should be able to locate a more useful and
    responsible outlet.

    For a few brief years we had some noble moments, of togetherness and
    anger and progress. Not many of us, mind you. If you are still alive,
    you know who you were and where you were during those worst years of our
    mass murder. You know what you did and what you didn't. And I know too.
    I know that most of you, should you still be alive, didn't do a
    goddamned thing. In fact, you were ashamed of us, many of you were. I
    remember that as well as I remember those who died. "Friends" crossing
    the street to avoid me because I was advising cooling it. I was actually
    told to not come back to Fire Island Pines. Lots of people come up to me
    now on the street and say, thank you for what you did for us. I do not
    consider that a compliment. My response quite often's been a curt Fuck
    You, why aren't you doing it too! I don't do anything that anyone else
    couldn't do. I just do it, and some 10 or 15,000 other people did it too
    then. And the rest of you sat on your asses. And, those of you who are
    still alive, know who you were and how little you did.

    Yes for one brief moment in time we got angry. Correction, a few of us
    got angry. Of all our many many millions of gay people in this country,
    about 10,000 of us or so got angry enough to accomplish something. We
    got drugs. We got AIDS care. We got enough so we could continue fucking
    again. That in the end is what it amounted to. As soon as we got the
    drugs, you went right back to what got us into such trouble in the first
    place. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US? The cabal can't believe their good
    fortune.

    How many gay people in America in those years of AIDS? Ten million?
    Twenty million? Thirty million? How many of us are there now? We don't
    even know how many of us there are! Or how many we lost! And every time
    some statistical number is released by some faceless organization or
    government office, I always wonder how the fuck do they know how many of
    us there are when we don't even know how many of us there are? And none
    of our so-called gay organizations ever bothers to find out. It would be
    nice to know, helpful to know. Don't you think?

    You know, it isn't meant to be easy, life. I don't know why it isn't
    meant to be easy, but it just isn't, so we might as well get used to it
    and try to find things that give us a certain sense of pride. We must
    create ourselves as something we can live with. It takes energy, yes.
    Why are we so crippled intellectually? Oh, we study sexuality and gender
    stuff until it comes out of every university's asshole but we don't
    study history, who we were and where we came from and our roots, the
    wellsprings of our historical existence. We do not honor our dead as we
    do not honor ourselves. We continue without surcease to be and remain,
    endlessly, day after day, helpless victims. "In my country when they
    raise the bus fares, we burn the buses," a Brazilian journalist said to
    me as she watched a sparsely attended Act Up demonstration.

    There is never one single hour that a disenfranchised minority does not
    have to fight to breathe and stay alive. The hate out there will never
    lessen. It only grows and grows, this hate. Most of you refuse to face
    this. I hate you for your doing that. I really do. I have no more
    patience for this kind of weakness. I know this is uncharitable of me. I
    don't care. I am too tired of fighting with so few troops. You are now
    dancing your own dance of death, you know. And I hate you for this, too.
    Grow up, I beg you. Oh, grow up.

    Time goes by so fast. We are allotted so precious little of it on this
    earth. How sad that you use it so stupidly. Every minute that goes by is
    gone forever. You who have been given a new lease on life, the very gift
    of life itself, piss it away. It is so incomprehensible to me who has
    come so close to death a couple times. I find your inactivity and
    ingratitude and lack of imagination on how to act in emergencies
    incongruous, incomprehensible, insulting. And unacceptable. I could
    never understand during all those years of AIDS why every single person
    facing death would not fight to save his own life. And I cannot
    understand now how, life having been given back to us again, again you
    treat your life with such contempt.

    Yes, all that I have spoken of tonight is the stuff of tragedy.

    I wish we could truly look upon each other as brothers and sisters. It
    sounds corny I am told when I keep using terms like this. How can we be
    related I am asked dismissively. You do not know or want to know that we
    have been on this earth as long as anyone else and that we have as many
    available heroes and heroines as anyone else. Your family has been here
    a very long time and has an ancient and distinguished lineage. You must
    learn that Abraham Lincoln was gay and George Washington and Meriwether
    Lewis and so many others we are only just beginning to uncover. But they
    will not let gay history be taught in schools and universities. And we
    seem unable to teach ourselves. My own college, Yale, with $1 million of
    my own brother's money to do just this, will not teach what I call gay
    history, unencumbered with the prissy incomprehensible gobbledygook of
    gender studies and queer theory. Abraham Lincoln did not talk that
    language.

    We richly deserve the government we have received. We do not even know
    who we are. And our enemies participate in their convictions every day
    of their lives. We only show up when we want to, which is not very
    often. But then perhaps you do not love being gay. Or think we are
    better than other people, and smarter and more talented and more tuned
    into what is happening, and are better friends.

    I leave the hardest topic we must face till last.

    How do we fight as a united front when they don't approve of our
    "behavior" and when our behavior is inseparable from our beings? How do
    we fight as a united front when some of us won't or are unable to change
    certain behaviors that many of us have difficulty in supporting and
    defending ourselves? We've been so concerned about showing the world a
    united front. We feel the need to say that everything gay people do is
    good and it simply isn't so. We must have an honest discussion amongst
    ourselves about what's good and what isn't. This is of course the
    problem that has finally brought us down because we have refused to deal
    with it, and perhaps is one reason today's youngsters have difficulty in
    acknowledging our past. It is the unfaced devil in our closet, if you
    will, that we have refused to deal with and which, now, now that they
    have achieved their position of imperial power, will be used to hang us
    once and for all. To be crude about it, how do we market and sell our
    wishes and our needs as they have been able to package and sell their
    wants and needs so successfully for thirty-five years? How do we frame
    this issue? How do we claim the God that they have subsumed into their
    own ownership? It is inhuman to think that the only way we can get
    through to some safe other side is by policing each other and in so
    doing destroy whatever hope we have of getting along? If they have been
    able to convince this country that the Republicans are the party of the
    people, surely so many sons and daughters can be smart enough to find a
    way to sell our parents permission to co-exist.

    I do not know how to answer any of this. And I don't think anyone among
    us does either. To talk out loud about what our bodies have done and
    continue to do is asking for trouble from others of us. How do we admit
    our past, own it, and evolve from it and move on? For we must do this.

    I know some of you will immediately jump up to act. I caution rushing
    off to form anything quite so fast until we decide how we want to deal
    with what I have raised tonight. I know many of you are prepared to
    tough it out and say to them, "Fuck you, I am what I am." And point out
    quite rightly that they have simply pushed us too far and, no matter
    what we have done and continue to do we simply cannot allow them to
    treat us this way any longer. We are human beings as much as they are,
    and their God is the same as our God and He simply cannot be allowed to
    be as punishing as they are requiring Him to be.

    But this is perhaps too honest and reasonable to say to those who are
    not either. Reasoning like this has not worked for us in the past. But I
    sense that ignoring this question of responsibility for much that has
    murdered us will only please them more.

    These are the problems we must confront as we go forward. If you are
    going to fight in a united way, which I am convinced is now the only way
    that can save us, we must find a platform that all of us can support
    without divisiveness and shame and guilt and all the other hateful
    weapons they will club us with.

    And if we do want to go out and fight again in a united way we must ask
    ourselves are we able to replicate the kind of devotion and commitment
    and backbreaking thankless work and tactics that continues to bring them
    year after year into such positions of unlimited power. Thirty-five
    years of that? For thirty-five years the cabal I have spoken of has
    worked every single day and night to bring them their success. Quite
    frankly they deserve their victory and we deserve our loss.

    I would like to quote this from a Baptist minister, Tom Ehrich, in
    Durham. By chance, I found it on a Christian website at 3:00 this
    afternoon. "It would be helpful if we started in silence and just
    listened to each other's voices. Whether we can muster such maturity
    amid toxic political attitudes remains to be seen. If we are to have a
    meaningful national discussion of moral issues, we will need to start
    with the sexual issues, not because they are the most important but
    because they are the fire engulfing the tower. Let's get it all on the
    table...

    "And let's do so openly and boldly, without the code language that we
    often use in moral debates, without our usual cherry-picking of
    Scriptures, without our usual blistering indignation, without the
    bullying that elevates one's viewpoint into divine certainty."

    So we are being invited to this table whether we want to or not. We must
    be prepared.

    I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we're better than other
    people. I really do. I think we're smarter and more talented and
    better friends. I do, I do, I totally do. I really do think all of these
    things.

    And I passionately and desperately want all my brothers and sisters to
    stay alive and well and on this earth as long as they want theirs to.

    Can we all help each other to reach this goal?

    -----

    (Note: I would like to acknowledge the help of my friend Rodger
    McFarlane, my lover David Webster, and my editor, Will Schwalbe in
    preparing this speech. I am grateful to Rodger and the Gill Foundation
    for educating me about Lewis Powell and the Powell Manifesto, about
    which I had been previously ignorant. Thanks too to Bill Moyers for his
    extraordinary speech which is quoted here without permission. LK)
    Saturday, September 11th, 2004
    12:12 pm
    Orpheus Ascending
    How long have i walked in this darkness?
    Meeting no man, hearing none but my own voice
    Asked to wind my way back home
    alone--
    but no, not truly i'm told;
    My love walks behind, silent as a ghost.
    Is this the folly of a cruel god?
    Do the dead laugh now in the silence?
    They told me that you are behind me,
    and i must carry us home.
    You are so real to me that i can almost see your face
    before me--
    Such memories of your touch
    Which even now this place of dark and stillness tries
    To steal away from me
    (Have i drunk the waters of the Lethe?)
    Yet i do not hear footsteps behind me;
    I feel not your presence with me;
    I walk only with my own faith
    That the promise is true.

    Would that i were born a fool!
    Content to fall in love with shadows--
    But i am a bard, not a fool,
    and flesh is denser than promise.
    Are you there, my love?
    Do we walk together still?
    I have been so long in this darkness--
    Meeting no man, singing to myself
    Climbing so slowly toward home...

    9/11/04
    Monday, August 2nd, 2004
    1:09 pm
    thoughts right now
    i'm obsessing over a new album. in fact, one of the primary reasons i am posting right now is to urge each and every one of you to go buy this album as soon as possible--for your own good. your life will be better if you listen to:

    Scissor Sisters.

    there are a number of reasons to love this eponymous album, for me personally. the most important is, of course, that it totally kicks the ass of every other album i've listened to this year; it is one of the rare gems that in which every track is worthy of repeated listening. the musical diversity from song to song can also be amazing.

    the other main reason for me to love them is that i know them--well, some of them--and want their fantastic efforts to pay off as tremendously as possible. i met their lead vocalist, jake shears, several years ago at short mountain sanctuary--the same gathering where i met john cameron mitchell. then, some good time after moving to SF, i discovered that the other lead vocalist, miz ana matronic, was actually the first faux queen of trannyshack...and therefore near and dear to many of my friends here who are still performing. so when they played a show here two saturdays ago, there was a very personal connection between the audience and the band. after the show, i was at a party with the trannyshack crowd, and had the pleasure of meeting miz ana. the following day at the dore alley street fair, i also met baby daddy and del marquis. these people are all simply awesome.

    actually, their accessibility is another one of the reasons i am so fucking in love with this band. these are my people, basically; queer artists who have made it big. hearing this album, i feel inspired--it gives me hope that someday i'll find the project that will make it as big as theirs has. i felt so tripped out, yesterday...taures and i were in a bar in the castro and they played the video for the scissor sisters' cover of "comfortably numb"...besides being a visually arresting video, it just felt strange and wonderful to think, "i KNOW these people!"...moreover, i was hanging out with some of them the weekend prior...and there i was, watching them on the TV in a gay bar. somehow the idea of creative success strikes me as so much more tangible when i witness it on this level. it might even be in my little reach...

    in a somewhat related tidbit, they're coming back to town to play a larger venue on folsom street fair weekend, and there's a chance that pepperspray will be opening. THAT would rock. there's also another upcoming show in september that's pretty fucking exciting, but it's supposed to stay kinda secret now, apparently...but suffice it to say that this will be at least as special as opening for cher.

    in the cold, foggy center of san francisco summer, i am tasting a sense of things to come, and the future looks bright. good things are in the works...

    now, don't you have a CD to go out and buy?

    -s
    Thursday, July 29th, 2004
    7:38 pm
    getting there
    i've been busy.

    lots of performances of various natures; visitors from out of town; changes of circumstances...and the omnipresent state of analysis, deep thought process, and contemplation on my lot in life which so typifies my extended stays away from the journal. i've been in outer space, and i'm coming in now for a landing.

    so much has changed. is changing?

    i have been reflecting much on the gulf between plans, expectations, dreams, and experiences in reality. how much of what i am, who i am, where i am, was part of my intentions?...ten years ago, two years ago, a month ago? have i strayed from the course i initially set? the path i'm on seems to suit me pretty well, all things considered--but what would the "high school student in huntsville" me think of the "adult in san francisco?"

    loss and abandonment are also feelings i've been examining in myself. i moved here as part of an intended three-man endeavor; doyle and taures were the ones who had to convince me that we could live here together, but i ended up being the first one to do it...and the only one to stay.

    taures has made it a year; over a year. but he is not going to medical school at UCSF--despite intentions, despite the internship, despite all odds to the contrary. once again, funding has fallen through, and this equals a return to georgia, the deferment of a dream. as it happens, he has some great people pulling for him in atlanta who are figuring out a way to get him into medical school--but it will be in atlanta that he schools.

    so: doyle came and doyle went. taures came, and taures is going. i came, and i stayed...and shall stay still. i wanted this to be home for all of us, but in the end, it was only home for myself.

    i ruminate on the meaning of this, if there is any. did it take years of these friendship bonds, traveling and laughing and discovering together, to show me the place i belong? were the two best friends i have the angels who lit my path for me, even as i resisted? are they destined to fly back to where they came from, every time, leaving me alone?

    i think back to my first months here; how my desperate waiting for the end of the year--the arrival of doyle--defined so much of my then-identity in the city. i was still inwardly defining as one-third of a team; i was certain that things were only a matter of time.

    "things," indeed. it was truly a matter of time. with the security blanket of my expectations wrapped around me, i began building my life here...always though with the voice in the back of my head adding two to the equation.

    add one. subtract one. repeat. result: still one, even if it feels like negative two.

    how different would life be now if i never got firm footing in this city? what if this city wasn't like a second skin for me? how then would i feel, knowing that the span of the continent lay between me and my cohorts? alas, this musing is folly, for this city so far has been the perfect fit. it was the confidence of expectation that propelled me so far, however; and truly now i see that must have been the hand of divinity, as well. she moves in mysterious ways.

    i cannot know what the future holds. i thought i did once, but now it's clear that my vision of the future was only so much fairy dross, spun by a naive heart. love, you see, isn't enough to make everything work out the way you want. in fact, i must say that i have not yet found the circumstance under which my love conquers....well, anything. reality is a juggernaut that rolls over my pretty feelings time and again.

    despite the morose tone of the above, i assure you that i'm quite peaceful in these realizations. i have achieved the zen state of futility--all my struggle will remain useless. i play the cards i'm dealt, and try to stop forcing the goddess' hand.

    i gave taures a card, to congratulate him on a year in san francisco. even at the time, i had intuitions and inklings that he wouldn't be staying much longer than this year--it crept into my words:

    i know there is little certain of the future, that life changes, shapes us, and changes us in turn. people enter our lives; ambitions and futures shift; no end seems absolute. even so, there is still US. still tiny lives woven together into an immense fabric which blankets reality like pages torn from a storybook--our storybook. i have held, clung to, cherished your presence here, even as i have sometimes taken it for granted. now i realize that i may ultimately also have to let it go. reflecting back on all that has passed though, i can clearly see that i cannot lose you--you may leave my eyes, my daily life, my city...but you shall never leave my heart, and that is the bond which echoes through time, through a million trillion possible futures, throughout our destiny. above place, space, and time: love holds you close to me, forever.

    and so it goes...fate brings us together, circumstances keep us apart, love unites us across the miles. this is adulthood, i suppose; the biggest scariest sort of thing you face when you look around and realize that you've left the nest and all of its comforts. that flying became more important than familiarity, that the sky beckons loud enough to drown out the clinging voices calling you back to safety.

    i am afloat in this sea without the anchors i was waiting for...now it's either drift without aim or set a course, all on my own. except i realize that all this time i've already been traveling for leagues upon leagues, and i can't go back to my old, distant shore. so be it.

    second to the right, straight on till morning.
    -s
    6:40 pm
    cotton candy on a rainy day--nikki giovanni

    Don't look now
    I'm fading away
    Into the gray of my mornings
    Or the blues of every night

    Is it that my nails
       keep breaking
    Or maybe the corn
       on my second little piggy
    Things keep popping out
       on my face
           or
       of my life

    It seems no matter how
    I try I become more difficult
       to hold
    I am not an easy woman
       to want

    They have asked
       the psychiatrists      psychologists      politicians and
       social workers
    What this decade will be
       known for
    There is no doubt      it is
       loneliness

    If loneliness were a grape
       the wine would be vintage
    If it were a wood
       the furniture would be mahogany
    But since it is life      it is
       Cotton Candy
                 on a rainy day
    The sweet soft essence
       of possibility
    Never quite maturing

    I have prided myself
    On being in the great tradition
       albeit circus
    That the show must go on
    Though in my community the vernacular is
       One Monkey Don't Stop the Show

    We all line up
       at some midway point
    To thread our way through
       the boredom and futility
    Looking for the blue ribbon and gold medal

    Mostly these are seen as food labels

    We are consumed by people who sing
       the same old song      STAY:
                                                                as sweet as you are
                                                                in my corner

    Or perhaps                                           just a little bit longer
    But whatever you do                            don't change baby baby don't change
    Something needs to change
    Everything      some say      will change
    I need a change
       of pace      face      attitude and life
    Though I long for my loneliness
    I know I need something
    Or someone
    Or . . . . . .

    I strangle my words as easily as I do my tears
    I stifle my screams as frequently as I flash my smile
       it means nothing
    I am cotton candy on a rainy day
       the unrealized dream of an idea unborn

    I share with the painters the desire
    To put a three-dimensional picture
    On a one-dimensional surface

    Wednesday, July 28th, 2004
    2:13 pm
    the best thing i have for you is another quiz?...
    The Strange Attractor
    Category VI - The Strange
    Attractor


    Though you're not quite sure why, people are drawn
    to you like moths to a flame. You really
    are too cool for words.


    What Type of Social Entity are You?
    brought to you by Quizilla
    Monday, June 21st, 2004
    12:14 pm
    BREAKING NEWS* BREAKING NEWS* BREAKING NEWS*BREAKING NEWS*
    NBC news reported early this morning that President Ronald Reagan, lying in state in the Capital Rotunda, continues to be dead. The surprising announcement was made by NBC anchor Tom Brokow, known for his years of authoritative, impartial investigative reporting. "In spite of thousands of Americans paying their respects to the late President, it does appear that Mr. Reagan will continue to be dead for an indefinite period of time."

    The surprising disclosure offset speculation by political pundits that if enough Americans came to Washington D.C. to view the remains of the late President, he might, in fact, rise from the dead. Expectations of a possible resurrection of the late President arose when rumors circulated throughout the nation's capital that the Ghost of Jacob Marley had been spotted roaming through the capital rotunda dragging chains, dozens of feet long, and asking for directions to the Reagan casket.

    When pressed for details about the persistence of Mr. Reagan's death, and how long the nation's media expected they could sustain the interest of the American public with the breaking news story, Mr. Brokow remarked, "I don't know about other networks. But here at NBC we expect to milk this event for as long as we can. July? August? Maybe even through November! Brokow went on to add, "There is no truth to the rumor that Alzheimer's disease, from which the late President suffered, is contagious and can spread unseen through the air to infect other Americans. Visitors to the rotunda need not fear becoming infected."

    Speculation about the possible airborne spread of Alzheimer's arose late this week when it became apparent that many Americans and most of the staff of national and local news outlets were suffering from an apparent lack of memory of events that transpired during the Reagan administration.

    A spokesperson for the Atlanta-based Centers for Disease Control, confirmed that Alzheimer's is not a contagious disease, but admitted that recent events might lead one to believe that it is. "Ronald Reagan put guns in the hands of the mujahidin that led to the rise of the Taliban," the spokesperson said, "he secretly armed Saddam Hussein through his then Middle East envoy Donald Rumsfeld. All of which led to the conditions that spawned 9/11. His administration illegally supported the Contras in Nicaragua, without the knowledge of the Congress; he traded arms for hostages; he supported murderous regimes In El Salvador and Guatemala. And yet no one in America seems to remember any of this. But I assure you it is not Alzheimer's!"

    In a related story, hospitals throughout the country have reported an alarming increase in Americans with two newly diagnosed illnesses. The first of these, Recurrent Gagging Syndrome (RGS), is a rare illness in which an individual is unable to hold down food and gags uncontrollably for hours, leaving the patient exhausted and weak. The epidemic of RGS seems to have coincided with a week of the most uncritical and shamefaced adulation of a President considered by many to have done more damage to the American economy in his two terms of office and to have done more to sustain a two-tier American society of haves and have-nots than any other President in American history.

    The other recently diagnosed illness is a new form of mental disease, American Delusional Reality Behavior, in which an individual suffers from disorientation, continually pinches himself, and believes that he no longer living in America. While treatable, medical experts fear the spread of both diseases in the days to come. Curiously, the illnesses seem to affect only Americans with a higher than normal IQ.

    Ed Gillespie, Chairman of the Republican Party National Committee, reacting to the news of Ronald Reagan's continued death, reported that party officials are undeterred from their plan to run Ronald Reagan as the party candidate for President of the United States this fall. "Sure, it's never been done before," Gillespie said, "but then W's slipping pretty far down in the polls. This is about survival of the Republican Party and if we can do it with a dead President, so much the better!"

    Constitutional experts are troubled at the prospects of a President running for a third term, while Democratic Party officials vowed to oppose Ronald Reagan's candidacy on legal grounds. When queried about running against Ronald Reagan in the fall, Democratic Presidential candidate John Kerry acknowledged that Reagan would indeed be a formidable opponent. "But I'm not worried," Kerry said, "I still have more personality than a dead guy. Don't I?"
    Sunday, June 20th, 2004
    9:25 pm
    still here
    living in san francisco and loving it means you have to love the cold days of summer, when fog-damp winds tear through the layers of your clothing--at your core you stay warm and breathe in the gales, you look at the buildings illuminated by cloudy gray sunlight, you crest a hill and see another neighborhood spread out before you and you think, "i'm home."

    you remember the days you were here on vacation, sitting on balcony of a bar, sipping a cocktail as you watched the 5 o'clock fog sweeping down twin peaks in all its blustering glory.

    every day you see the same faces and you see new faces, every week you end up somewhere you haven't been before. everything seems old and ornamental and you think about other cities where everything was built in the last 50 years.

    sometimes you wonder if--in a city full of artists, yuppies, freaks, loners, followers, assimilationists, activists, businessmen, trailblazers and wanderers--there is even one single person you haven't already met who might understand or appreciate you.

    sometimes the struggle seems like it isn't worth it but then you go to a party or see a demonstration or read an article that makes you think, "god, i love this place." then you go back to hunting for studios in the tenderloin that cost less than $800 a month.

    every week you see more art. every week you go to the familiar places that comfort you or have the best burritos or the cute staff member.

    every night you go to bed wondering if you're better off.

    i'm going to bed now.

    -s
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