Crixi on a cure for AIDS
I posted Saturday about a promising technique developed by German researchers which actually snips the HIV virus from cells, thus curing the cells of infection. I connected to that research, from Deutsche Welle, here.
In response to that post, Mr. Crixi Van Cheek responded with a comment that touched me. I have fallen in love with Mr. Crixi over the last year as the result of his comments on Joe.My.God. When he writes, I listen up, so here is Crixi on what he might do when the cure for AIDS gets here.
My Dear Lynette...
At first we think how wonderful it will be. A sort of VE day over AIDS. What would we call it? In 1990 "Longtime Companion" an Oscar nominated film about AIDS, portrayed the end by having us re-united with all our loved ones on the beach on Fire Island. Sadly, nearly everyone in the film is now dead. Including my bright eyed friend Frankie.
I sometimes wonder myself, what would it be like? I got the virus on 11/26/89. I found out, and got sick April Fool's Day, 1991. Now, all these years later, after having watched way too many people breath their last I find I have very few tears left, but a reservoir of rage.
When I was in school I saw news reels from the end of WWII showing survivors of the Nazi Death Camps being liberated. I used to wonder why they just didn't run for the open gates the minute they were freed. They sort of scraggled towards their liberators.
They were wide eyed and skeptical as they were let out of that hell. Of course the cameras focused on the weakest, the rail thin "walking corpses". But in the background and to the sides were the people that had arrived at the camps later, who were still relatively healthy. What were they to feel? Are they less relieved since they have suffered for a shorter period of time? Do they stifle their joy in the presence of those who have suffered unimaginable pain and loss?
And so it may be when they announce a cure for AIDS. Will I be entitled to joy? Or will I feel too much guilt for having been one of the survivors? How many more accomplished people died before me? My first love, a handsome young doctor, such a waste they all said. But me, just a blue collar kind of guy, why me, why did I make it?
Yes, yes, the Mary Ann Williamson profiteers will all have reasons for me to 'embrace' my feelings and live in some spirit, some moment. But fuck them all, they just wrote books and got rich while our bowels rotted.
Will I walk out of the camp, or will I run? Do I have any run left in me? Will I want to go back and scoop up the ashes of my friends or will I not look back and wash that whole dirty virus off me in a marathon shower?
What will I do when there is a cure? Will the Glaxos and Squibbies mourn their lost protease profits as much as we mourn our dead? Or, will we meet at the corner of Gay St. and Christopher and as our friend Joe.My.God would say: "They tried to kill us, they didn't, let's dance"?
Can you imagine such a thing? And is it even possible to experience such a glorious breakthrough ~ a cure for this dreadful plague ~ without mourning loved ones lost? All of my Houston friends are dead, my band of sweet gay boys who introduced me to the bars, to their lives, who I loved absolutely and who loved me right back. I don't think I could revel in the joyful news of a cure without again mourning the loss of those precious men. We were just babies, all of us, so very young and innocent. To think of them older is impossible. I will always remember them on the dance floor, just as Crixi has said, in movement and life and joy and love. A cure will come. I know it.
In response to that post, Mr. Crixi Van Cheek responded with a comment that touched me. I have fallen in love with Mr. Crixi over the last year as the result of his comments on Joe.My.God. When he writes, I listen up, so here is Crixi on what he might do when the cure for AIDS gets here.
My Dear Lynette...
At first we think how wonderful it will be. A sort of VE day over AIDS. What would we call it? In 1990 "Longtime Companion" an Oscar nominated film about AIDS, portrayed the end by having us re-united with all our loved ones on the beach on Fire Island. Sadly, nearly everyone in the film is now dead. Including my bright eyed friend Frankie.
I sometimes wonder myself, what would it be like? I got the virus on 11/26/89. I found out, and got sick April Fool's Day, 1991. Now, all these years later, after having watched way too many people breath their last I find I have very few tears left, but a reservoir of rage.
When I was in school I saw news reels from the end of WWII showing survivors of the Nazi Death Camps being liberated. I used to wonder why they just didn't run for the open gates the minute they were freed. They sort of scraggled towards their liberators.
They were wide eyed and skeptical as they were let out of that hell. Of course the cameras focused on the weakest, the rail thin "walking corpses". But in the background and to the sides were the people that had arrived at the camps later, who were still relatively healthy. What were they to feel? Are they less relieved since they have suffered for a shorter period of time? Do they stifle their joy in the presence of those who have suffered unimaginable pain and loss?
And so it may be when they announce a cure for AIDS. Will I be entitled to joy? Or will I feel too much guilt for having been one of the survivors? How many more accomplished people died before me? My first love, a handsome young doctor, such a waste they all said. But me, just a blue collar kind of guy, why me, why did I make it?
Yes, yes, the Mary Ann Williamson profiteers will all have reasons for me to 'embrace' my feelings and live in some spirit, some moment. But fuck them all, they just wrote books and got rich while our bowels rotted.
Will I walk out of the camp, or will I run? Do I have any run left in me? Will I want to go back and scoop up the ashes of my friends or will I not look back and wash that whole dirty virus off me in a marathon shower?
What will I do when there is a cure? Will the Glaxos and Squibbies mourn their lost protease profits as much as we mourn our dead? Or, will we meet at the corner of Gay St. and Christopher and as our friend Joe.My.God would say: "They tried to kill us, they didn't, let's dance"?
Can you imagine such a thing? And is it even possible to experience such a glorious breakthrough ~ a cure for this dreadful plague ~ without mourning loved ones lost? All of my Houston friends are dead, my band of sweet gay boys who introduced me to the bars, to their lives, who I loved absolutely and who loved me right back. I don't think I could revel in the joyful news of a cure without again mourning the loss of those precious men. We were just babies, all of us, so very young and innocent. To think of them older is impossible. I will always remember them on the dance floor, just as Crixi has said, in movement and life and joy and love. A cure will come. I know it.
posted by BigAssBelle at 8:20 AM
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