The Gay Blade

Bears Go Wild!

2012-02-20T12:41:00.000-08:00

We gay men have always had to make our own communities. In the past we did it as a way to protect ourselves from a world that hated and persecuted us. Now we do it based out of our strength.

So we've just had the third BearNZ Week, and it was a lot of fun. A big vote of thanks to the guys at Urge for running such a great event again. They make it look so effortless, but it takes a lot of work to get this week running so well.

There were guys from the UK, the USA, Australia, and of course lots of locals and out-of-towners.

I didn't go to everything, but I really enjoyed the events I made it to, and met some cool guys along the way.

I went to Bear Drag, but didn't run - I made that mistake last year, when I stupidly said to Alan from Urge, "I will if you will" and quicksmart he said "You're on!" Embarassing photos followed, I learnt my lesson, and was happy as a supporter this year.

Mr Urge Bear was packed as usual, great fun, and kudos to all the guys who entered, and a big congratulations to David Morris from Wellington for winning the title.
(Pic above lifted from the wonderful LOLCubz)

The Tri-Nations Dance was great, somewhere between 300 -400 guys I guess, all hot, sweaty and mostly shirtless, and a wide age range of men.

I really value having men-only events; it is just good to be able to relax and be ourselves. There are rumours that this year the security guards weren't quite as intrusive or alert as last year, and certain dark corners saw acts of wanton debauchery, but if you put hundreds of hot sweaty near-naked men together, well what do you expect?

And on Sunday, they held the closing bbq at a private home - at least 40 guys showing up and chilling out in Grant and Brian's garden, relaxing and winding down after the week. No tickets, no wristbands, just an honesty box by the bar, delicious food brought with raffle proceeds, guys of all shapes and sizes chatting and just hanging out.

And for me it showed the good side about the bear world. It is relaxed, friendly, welcoming, and non-judgemental. You don't have to be beefy and hairy to take part. You don't need to spend 7 days a week in the gym, or grow a beard, or do anything special really. It is a very inclusive and supportive group of men to be with, and I am really glad of that.

The debates about "community" and just what it is raise their heads every now and then here, and there isn't an easy answer to it, but Bear Week shows that this community is strong. But we wouldn't be without all the work that the guys from Urge and others put in. You do need events, you do need things that give people a reason to come together, and they provide that, but they do it so well because they are so tied into the wider gay world here.

And changing tack just a little, this is my fear around the proposed idea for an Auckland Pride Festival with a parade again. Unless it has deep roots into all the various queer communities here, it won't work. It will just be a beige, bland piece of Auckland City marketing - "Look, we tick the "diversity' box!"

I have an idea of just how much planning and work went into getting Bear Week up and running, everyone involved had full-time jobs elsewhere and working their arses off, often for free, so to get a full two-week festival going is going to be an immense challenge. It won't happen without hundreds of volunteers, and I really wonder if they can find them. Given the huge problems and bankrupticies and acts of embezzlement and bastardry we've seen associated with previous big gay events, like Hero here, and Mardi Gras in Sydney to name just two.

But Bear Week worked beautifully - it is raltively short, targetted, relaxed and fun.

Thanks so much guys, and I'm looking forward to next year.

Who Killed the Unicorn?

2012-02-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

Ah, the Big Gay Out has been and gone once more...

It's the last gay remnant of HERO in our lives, and a it was a lot of fun as usual, even if the weather wasn't that kind to us. The BGO is supposed to be the day for the whole Queer community, trans, dykes, gays, drag, bi - the whole kit and caboodle.

And it's a symbol of how the gay world has changed - our biggest event is a picnic now, not a dance-party. It's full of queer couples with their kids, men and women who have no interest in the scene but enjoy a day where they can hang out with thousands of queers and feel good. People bring their straight mates and family along, but it's first and foremost our day, so they have to behave. And it's so great to have a day when we are the ones in the majority.

Symbols matter, and the BGO symbolises us as a community, as Gay Auckland.

So for the official opening, listening to NZAF Executive Director Robinson open the event and blather on about diversity I and quite a few others had to wonder just why a straight Christian man is getting up there to welcome us to our event? What does this symbolise? Nothing personal mate, but no, this is not your moment in the sun. The last time we had a straight Christian man blather on about diversity at the BGO it was the execrable John Banks in his desperate attempt to be mayor again. Again, symbolically, a shame Robinson chose the same buzzwords as Banks. No matter how nice and supportive (and I believe Robinson is both) he was the wrong symbol to front the day.

This is the Big GAY Out - sure, NZAF have funded it since HERO went bust, but in the past the Chair of the NZAF has been the one to open it, and that's how it should be. Choose someone from our community if the Chair can't be bothered, although public appearances have always been part of the role.

Of course we had politicians galore descend on us. Labour with Leader and deputy-Leader, the Greens, and the PM and Auckland Central National MP Nikki Kaye. Last year Key thought we should be happy the Nats hadn't taken anything away from us. This year he's promising us a new gay parade. Really? He said that last year too.

And there were crowds of people fawning over Key.

Just a reminder - the National Party has never once stood up for our interests as queers. They opposed Homosexual Law Reform in '86, they opposed giving us equal rights un the Bill of Rights in '93, they opposed us having our relatoinships legally recognised in the Civil Unions Act in 2005. They really don't like us - except at election time. If the closeted National MPs had the guts to come out I'd have a bit of respect for them, but it speaks volumes about the party that they don't.

And what has happened to Gay Pride anyway? The pic above is from the incredibly talented and out-there SF artist, Kenji de Sade.

Gay Pride used to be a political movement, but now it seems more an exercise in branding and product-placement. And if it gets in the way of product-placement, even that disappears.

Just look at Sydney - their party and parade began as a political protest for gay rights in 1978 and then went on to become the fun of the "Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras", but now they've taken out the words "Gay and Lesbian" - what does that symbolise? A wider market? More money from advertisers? It is certainly a much safer brand - why you wouldn't know there were any queers involved in it anywhere with a name like that...

At times various people go on about how shallow and sterile our community has become. Well no wonder, as our institutions are gradually being de-gayed. Visibility matters. We need to be seen, we need to have a presence, and we need to have some sense of our own history, of our whakapapa.

Without that, without knowing where we came from, without knowing what our symbols mean and why they're important, we'll fade away into inconsequentiality. And I'm not happy with that.

Four Things

2012-02-07T14:24:00.000-08:00

A few odds and ends that have been running around my head, so here goes. And who will I piss off this time?

Firstly - Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, as Wilde once said, so perhaps I should have been flattered when my fellow blogger Craig Young pointed out that both my and his blogs were being used under false names and with minimal changes on an overseas gay community site - I won't name it.

I have always been really happy for people to use my blogs, link to them, whatever, so long as I am given full credit, and that continues to be my position. I see them as public.

Next - I pushed a few buttons with my last blog on gay racism. I stand by all I wrote, but let me be clear - I'm not saying we can't have preferences about the type of men we are attracted to - of course we do. I'm just making the point that by saying "No Indians" or "No Blacks" you are using racist language, you are acting in a racist manner even if you aren't aware of it - and I have zero tolerance for racism - so let me raise your consciousness. Racism is evil, stupid and factually makes no sense - there is only one race, the human race, and we all belong to it. Inside the human race are thousands of different ethnicities with all sorts of characteristics - but biologically there's only one race.

The point I was trying to make is you can describe what you find physically attractive in a guy without using nasty, belittling and exclusionary language. Given all the attention we've been giving to the effects of anti-gay bullying and the power of language used against us lately I am surprised this seems problematic for some gay men.

This next one is tricky: Gay Conservatives, and my feeling of slight contempt for them.

This was kicked off by some things I've heard some guys saying lately, then looking at the self-hatred expressed by "homophobic homo" Mike Puru. And others. I know so many men who spent so much of their lives so deep in the closet they could have been having adventures in Narnia, and when they finally find the courage to come out, they can't shake off their old ways. But of course, they would never have had the freedom to come out without those of us who kicked up a stink, who rocked the boat and made some noise.

They never had the balls to actually come out and fight for our rights, to stand up and be counted. When they finally do make it out, and often leave the wife and kids they've been hiding behind, they take advantage of the social changes activists help make for them, but they also cringe, and ask to stop being so noisy, to be "normal", as, like Puru, they don't want to be seen as gay.

Well fuck that. Dude, you love men and you like cock, you're a poof - get over it.

The tricky part of this comes because as activists we wanted to make the world better for all of us, including those guys trapped in the closet. And we did, with no thanks to them. So when they finally do come out and ask us to be "normal", yeah, I feel some anger, some resentment, and some contempt.

We can all make excuses not to come out: "Mummy would be upset", "I might lose my job" ,"My wife guesses but I love her" - they're all excuses, and really what you're saying is you're scared to admit you're gay, and, very often, you actually don't want to be gay, you think there's something wrong with it, that it makes you less of a man, that other lawyers and accountants in Remuera won't take you as seriously, that maybe the League Club won't be as welcoming. And maybe that's all true - but do you want to go on living a lie with people who think that way? Really?

And then they end up furtively doing the bogs. I understand that, but it's an excuse, not a reason.

If Mummy will be upset, then sit her down and explain to her why she doesn't need to be. In NZ today you can't lose your job for being gay - that's one of the things we fought for. And isn't it just a bit sad that you say you love your wife or girlfriend but are running around doing the bogs behind her back?

And to be clear, I'm not saying everyone has to come out at the age of 16 - it's a personal decision, sometimes it is impossible, I acknowledge that, sometimes youth is at very real risk of violence from family members, or being thrown out, but that is less of an issue when you're a 40-something manager from Grey Lynn - it was gay activists with all our noise and anger who made the world a bit easier for you, so now when I see your desire to hang out with the same people who used to put the boot into us, like the crowds of men fawning over John Key at the Big Gay Out, and hear your desire for us to be "nice" and "normal" - I have to hold my nose a little. Remember Key's words at the BGO last year? Something like "At least we haven't taken anything away from you" - and the gay Nats seemed thrilled by this condescension from him.

I know it's a paradox - and one I'm still working through. We wanted to make the world a better place, and we've achieved an awful lot of our goals. We've created conditions that help 50 year-old National Party members feel free to come out and that's good; freedom to be who you are is a good thing - but they forget just how we got to this place. And it wasn't with their help. So can you STFU with the judgements about the ones who did the work?

And finally...

This book "Lovers" came out in 1979, and I bought it then, from the old "OUT!" Bookshop that used to be in High Street.

It took me ages to figure out it was a gay bookshop. They used to have a sandwich board on the footpath, with that month's cover model, usually some rugged guy, shirt off, little shorts on, leaning against a mighty pine, or reclining on a mountain top, and if I recall the magazine had the tag "OUT! The Alternative Lifestyle" - for ages I thought it was a magazine about tramping that just happened to have really sexy half-naked men on the cover. Then I twigged...

But I digress.

I was 18 in 1979, and trying to figure out stuff as a young gay man. For me this book was the first positive representation of gay male love I'd seen. It was the real story of two gay men, using photos to tell the story of their 3 year relationship after they'd split up. It showed me that it really is possible for two men to love each other, not just have sex. I think I read it in one sitting, I was so desperate for information, for ideas, for patterns, for way to explain myself as a gay man and ways to be. It gave me a strong, positive image of gay guys loving and living, and trust me, this was not a common message in that era. 1979 was a different world.

So it was with real joy I found it in a second-hand bookshop in Wellington a few years back. It is still worth reading, it brings up issues of love, jealousy, acceptance, family - all that core stuff we still have to deal with.

Of course, it was written pre-HIV, so there is a real sense of sadness, of poignancy, as I imagine they must have both been lost to the plague, but I can't be sure. The author, Michael Denneny, is still alive and a force today in NY publishing, having been involved in some of the big gay publishing projects, helping develop our culture - that's pretty cool.

As so often, it all comes back to love. And this book helped me understand aspects of it, helped me feel good about my need to love and be loved by other men. Warm fuzzies all round.

And it's the Big Gay Out again this Sunday - always a great day - if you're in Auckland get out and enjoy it.

Gay Bigots - I Hate Them

2012-01-31T13:42:00.000-08:00

I loved this image when I saw it, it's off a t-shirt you can order online.

And there is so much racism out in the gay world, and it really comes through in the online setting. So many ads in NZ that read "No Asians/Indians". Hmm, so that's over 2 billion people, about 1/3 of the globe's entire population you've decided to dismiss because why...? OK, if it's just the gay portion of that more than 2 billion you're dismissing, it's considerably less, several hundred million men, absloutely none of whom you could ever find sexually interesting.

Zero. Zip. Nada. Not one.

That's crazy - and no, it's not "just my preference": it's racism pure and simple. And I have a particular loathing for racism and racists.

It's racist because it is firmly and entirely built on the idea of race in the first place. How can you generalise about all men from Korea or Sri Lanka? You can't - if you try to, you are using a tool of racism, and you are racist.

It's racist because it fails to see our shared humanity - you are relegating and dismissing one group of people purely and simply because of your own bigotry based on their ancestry and what this does to their physical appearance.

If it's "just a preference" consider how the sentence reads if you say "No Maoris (it's just a preference) " or "No Jews (it's just a preference)"

Does that feel right? Does that sit well with you? I can't imagine anyone using that on a profile here in NZ, although I know there are men who have that view. I have met loathsome white people in NZ who can't have sex with "brownies" I'm sorry to say.

And can you imagine the effects of that constant negative barrage on people?

It just seems so weird to me - some men are hot, some aren't. I don't care about ethnicity. I've met hot, beautiful and sexy men from all sorts of backgrounds.There are some amazingly unsexy and ugly whites out there, but I wouldn't use that to justify saying "No whites", so to me it comes down to some level of fear of the unkown. Fear of those that are different.

Saying it's "Just a preference" is a load of bullshit. That's a cowardly, mealy-mouthed way of pretending you're not prejudiced - pure and simple. What happens when you walk out of a dark room and find that muscle-god with the 8 inch dick who was banging you into a happy quivering mess turns out to be Chinese, Thai or Indian? Do you turn round and go "Oh dear, I don't like Asians, sorry"

The truth is we are taught to associate certain groups with being sexually desirable and not others. We learn it through porn through our general culture and the images that are put out. So in NZ we see people associating Maori and Pasifika men with being hot and sexy, hence the lack of the "No Maoris (it's just a preference)" in the online world. We've decided they are hot. But that's part of a long tradition of seeing brown-skinned people from the Pacific as sexually freer than uptight "white" culture, freer and available. It's racist, it's exploitative and it's based in fantasy, but it's accepted.

And fear of what is different isn't just about race either. I am still amazed at the well-educated, intelligent men I meet who are completely irrationally terrified of making love with someone who is HIV+. Even when they regularly use condoms, if they know how to have safe sex and do it, if you tell them you're poz they become gibbering wrecks. It seems we embody all their fears about their own behaviour. I can't see what else they are afraid of. If you know what you're doing you're not going to get it, no matter what the HIV status of your partner.

And this is another form of discrimination that's close to racism. It's a refusal to acknowledge that you are dealing with another human being who is just as worthy, just as real, just as human as you are. Yes, I find some Indian and Chinese men unattractive - but I find the same about Germans and Anglo-Americans too, I find some Brazilians deeply unsexy to look at. But I don't dismiss the entire group because of it. Some men with HIV are sex-on-a-stick, some of us aren't.

We gay men came from such a position of fear and discrimination ourselves - I guess this is why I react so strongly to this. For centuries we were persecuted for being who we are, I find it amazing to see the same sort of ignorant nasty bigotry in our own world.

Love and Other Conundrums

2012-01-26T18:49:00.000-08:00

Love - it plays on my mind a lot, and not just on mine I know.

I was talking about it with a mate the other day, that need to love someone, and to feel loved back - it's so strong.

And the fear that I or he won't be loved again, won't love again, or worse, won't be loved again, is strong and painful. Especially when you feel, when I feel, like I have so much love to give.

I mean, yeah, of course I'll love - I have friends, family etc who I love. I will have pets again that I love. I won't have a life that is devoid of love, I know that. But that's not really what I mean.

There's that sense of recognition, of knowing and being known so well, so deeply and thoroughly that you only get if you spend lots of time with someone else. I'm talking about that sense of having that person who knows you so well that they can finish your sentences. They automatically know why you're grumpy, or smiling. That deep and strong sense of intimacy - that's the thing I miss the most in my life at the moment - intimacy and recognition.

I want that intimacy, that closeness, that emotional warmth and depth - but I'm not sure I'll find it again. And I know lots of guys who are in this position and who have these fears. I know this is not at all uncommon, and not just in the gay world either.

It feels so hard at times, to think that all the love I carry , that all the love I want to share, can't find a man who sees it and wants it, and when I talk about it with other friends I hear the same anxieties and fears too. Sometimes I look at all the ads online for "more than sex" and it feels almost crushing, to think of all those guys out there who all say they are looking for the same thing, like me, yet we can't seem to find each other.

At the core, at the heart of this, there's a nagging, doubting little voice in my head that goes "You don't have a lover because you don't deserve one - because you're unloveable." Self-sabotage I know, and untrue, but that doubting little voice can be so powerful, and so corrosive. It takes energy to fight it.

It starts to raise all those questions - maybe if I changed how I looked, exercised more, lost weight, got a tan, changed how I dress, got new friends, moved to another country - maybe then I'd meet someone. But I don't actually beleive that to be what lies at the heart of it all. Just what does though, I'm not so sure.

Why is it so damn fucking hard to meet a guy I can click with? Am I setting my standards too high? I don't think so - I'd say I'm a realist. I just don't seem to have much luck in meeting guys where that "Yes! You're interesting!" response goes both ways. And then sometimes guys fall for me and I don't for them - and I feel like a bit of a shit - one the one hand I say I want love, then when someone offers it to me I go "Um, yes but this just doesn't feel right, so no, thanks." And that hurts them.

But I can't lie, I can't pretend, and I won't settle for second-best - it's not fair to anyone if you do that.

I don't blame the gay scene for it as some guys do. I have plenty of friends who met their partners through it, plenty who happily jump in and out of the scene together. I do know the difference between love and sex, between physical intimacy and emotional intimacy. The scene isn't the easiest place to negotiate it's true, but I don't blame it - it's how we use it that shapes it - and if you look around there are plenty of opportunities outside the scene as well.

I do think a big part of it comes down to luck. There are way less gay men in the world for us to choose from, far fewer to pick from, and so the odds of meeting someone you can have that click with are much worse that they are for straights.

So I go on, and I will go on - and I'm not depressed or crying as I write this or anything, I'm just aware of it, I'm conscious, I can feel it - I can feel that need to love, and to feel loved, that desire to be known, to be recognised.

I live in hope.

Those Strangely Intimate Moments of Gay Male Friendship

2012-01-22T18:27:00.000-08:00

On Saturday morning I usually have breakfast with two of my closest and most important friends, have done for years and years and years, but this weekend I cancelled because I had an appointment with some other good mates, let's call them "Ken" and "Spike" (see, I can be discreet!) . Ken and Spike show up at 9:45 with their mate Jim, and we pile into the car and off to Newmarket we go!

You see, Spike has wanted a tattoo for decades, and now that Ken had had one done he decided he simply had to get his done too, and it was an easy birthday present for Ken. And Ken and me, well, we'd decided a few weeks back we wanted to get a Prince Albert, get our cocks pierced, so why not do it together?

Jim? I'd never met him before - he was just their friendly trade from the night before coming along to watch. As you do.

You can just imagine that post-coital conversation:
Spike:"Hey Jim, that was really hot mate, thanks. By the way, I'm getting a tatt done tomorrow morning and Ken and a mate are getting their dicks pierced - wanna come watch?"
Jim: "Hmm, ok, sounds fun, but I have to be somewhere by midday."
Spike: "No worries, it'll all be over by then mate."
Jim: "Yeah, ok, cool."

But I digress.

As we were driving along, with a little nervous laughter all round the car, Ken said "This is one of those strangely intimate moments of gay male friendship" hence the title. And really, when you think about it, it is strangely intimate. It is the sort of thing that is not uncommon among gay men. I bet I know heaps more about my gay mates' bodies, sex-lives and kinks than straight male friends ever do with their mates. We were just your typical urban homos - the happy couple of Ken and Spike, me, and their (very nice and smart) fuck Jim, all off for a morning's fun.

I actually had already had my cock pierced 10 years ago, but a few weeks after I'd had it done I dropped some acid and was tripping at the Grey Lynn Fair and playing with it and got the ball off it and then couldn't get it back in and then the ring came out and by the time I came down next day I simply couldn't get it back in.

Obviously telling stories like these I am never going to run for public office.

So we arrived at Streetwise on Broadway in Newmarket. I'd heard of them before but never been. They do tatts and piercings. I've had tattoos from three different studios around town but never here, might give them a go for the next one. Anyway, nice bright and clean looking premises. Big tick. Staff have tatts and piercings. Big tick. Good. A sign saying "Professional Piercers Don't Use Piercing Guns!" Good - they know their stuff. Spike goes off to his studio to be inked, and we three walk into the piercing room.

Ken had already decided he wanted to go first - the coward was scared if he saw what was involved he'd back down. Jim and I sat there, as Ken lay down on the bench. I looked up and saw they had training diplomas from the Gauntlet, he and his wife had trained there in the late 90s, and immediately I felt fine. This is often seen as the homebase of the modern piercing wave, and had a great reputation so if they'd trained there I was happy. The buzz of Spike's ink getting done came through from the next room.

As the piercer started in he said "It's probably a bit strange for you having some stranger poke and prod your cock like this" Jim and I started giggling. Nothing strange going on there for Ken at all! He explained the procedure carefully, I really liked the way he did everything, very calm, obviously knew how to keep everything sterile, he was practical and friendly.

Ken wanted photos, so I took a few as it all was happening. Before he put the guide down Ken's urethra he said "Now you're probably not used to people putting stuff down your cock" and I think all three of us started giggling again. Ken looked nervous, his hands gripping the sides of the bench. I made some crack about him letting a total stranger stick a lump of steel through his cock - not sure if that was helpful or not.

"Take a big breath in! And let it out!" Ken's back arched on the bench, he went red and gritted his teeth (I think he was enjoying it) and as he breathed out it was all done. It really is very fast. A second of intense pain - then it aches, then it's sort of vaguely uncomfortable, then it's wrapped up and fine. Seriously, after a few minutes, the pain has gone - it's less painful than getting your tit pierced, but probably more than getting your ears done I'd say.

And then it was my turn, and what can I add? It was fine - a big ouch for a second - Jim reached out to give me a steadying hand, but it was already over by the time his arm got that far - then it was all fine, and hardly any bleeding. We tried to talk Jim into it be he wasn't convinced...yet...

But it was fun, and it is one of those social encounters that I think is normal until someone points out that it's not really. I mean, I've never fucked with any of these guys, Ken and Spike are just mates, but sure I've seen their cocks and we all know what each other gets up to and likes, and that's not that strange for loads of gay guys. It did suddenly strike me as funny that here I was with Ken, and a total stranger Jim, doing all this, but I also liked the fact.

Why do it? Well I like Prince Alberts on guys - I like the look, I lke the feel, and I always regretted not being able to keep my first one in. And they do make you more sensitive, no doubt about it. As for the name, as our friendly piercer said, no-one knows for sure if there is any truth behind the story or not, but anthropology tells us guys have been piercing their genitals in all sorts of ways for thousands of years. And Spike's tattoo looks great.

At a bbq later another friend who hadn't been there said as he left "So you two are PA Buddies now!" and we are.

And we got to share in one of those strangely intimate moments of gay male friendship, and I am glad of that.

No Hookups?

2012-01-19T15:01:00.000-08:00

I was sitting in Albert Park the other day, enjoying the sun, having some lunch, the scent of dope floating through the summer air, playing with the phone, idly looking through Manhunt, Recon, Gaydar, Scruff, Grindr etc and noticed a few profiles saying "No hookups" and then I posted on facebook "I just don't get guys who use sites like Scruff or Grindr and say 'No hookups'".

And so many of those profiles have a headless body-shot, and locked pics sitting there too.

It was just an idle throwaway line, a little query that popped up in my head, sitting in the sun.

Boy, did it get a response! I think there were over 70 comments on it the last time I looked, with guys from NZ, Australia, the USA, Canada all chipping in. And what a range of opinion.

Some went along the lines of "Not all homos are skanks and some of us actually like to go out for dates without ending up fucking" to others saying "These sites are designed for hooking up and anyone who says they're not there for that is deluding themselves." A few insults got tossed around as well. As one friend in Sydney said "You've opened a hornets' nest!" The passion and strength of the differing opinions really surprised me.

Guys, guys! Please - play nicely!

It seems to me to raise that old debate that goes on in homoland - do we fuck too much? Do we define ourselves by our sex-lives? Are we so fixated on getting laid that we can't form ordinary loving relationships or even go on a date that doesn't end up with sex?

Or should we just embrace the fact that we can fuck around as much as we like and still have solid, happy relationships as well? And that is the truth for a lot of men - nearly all the guys in LTRs I can think of are not monogamous, and don't need to lie to their partners about it either. And it is just so easy for two guys to meet, whip it out and have fun, then say "Oh, I'm Jack by the way". Someone once said cumming together for gay men is like shaking hands for straights, and that can be the case, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Some guys obviously don't like the more highly sexualised parts of gay life. For them it's a scary and often sad place where they don't find what they want - love. Some of us want to settle down with one man and have a white-picket fence and kids and a poodle. Some of us would slit our wrists at the prospect. If you've been paying attention, you'll know I lean towards the latter camp. I don't think there is anything wrong with hooking up as much or as little as you like, and I don't think having a full and busy sex-life stops you from finding love either, in fact I know it doesn't. Like anything in life, you need to monitor what works for you, like anything, you can let it take over and that isn't a good thing usually.

And sure, these sites all get used for all sorts of things, not just hookups. I set up a time for coffee with a mate on Recon the other day, have swapped jokes with friends on Scruff, chatted to strangers on the other side of the world I'm never going to meet on Grindr. We don't just use these sites for hooking up, we use them for whatever we like. And sometimes if you're new in town they can be good to meet people and find out what's happening, where to go - and yes, you can make friends that way. And even lovers. I know a few guys who've met their partner off these places. I have never hooked up off fb though when I think about it - but I'm sure some of us have.

Over the centuries we have been experts in turning social spaces into cruising spaces - we had to, because we were on the outer, we were persecuted (we still are in fact) we had to hide and pretend to be something we weren't. And finding a fuck is often easier than forming a relaitonship, especially in those bad old days. So we have a cultural history of being adaptable, even if we're not all versatile.

But I'd still argue that basically these site are set up for gay men and if you give us a space we don't just decorate it and make it pretty, we tend to start fucking.

Sometimes Love is Not Enough

2012-01-15T14:52:00.000-08:00

I just ended a two-year affair. It wasn't a relationship in the sense of being partners or lovers, it was different from that, but it had endured, and it was good most of the time. He already has a lover, and we were clear about the limits on what we did.

And even though we weren't "in love" we did love each other in our own way. You can't really keep on hooking up for that amount of time without caring for the other guy.

But in the end I decided that it just wasn't good for me. It took up a lot of my emotional energy, yet in the cold hard light of day, I could see that it was time to move on. He was surprised and wounded at the rupture, and so was his partner but obviously to a lesser degree. Yes, it hurt , but I know I made the right call.

And it made me think about the huge weight we tend to put on love these days, our expectations that love is the answer to everything, that love makes it all ok. That's asking love to carry a lot, and is a relatively new way of thinking.

In the past relationships were formed more around ideas of how to build a stable family, how to work the farm together, keep the community going, and were often set up by families - the idea that we should fall in love first, then settle down, is a very new one.

Of course, for homos, it's different. We get to chart our own way through the world, as we don't have thousands of years of patterns of same-sex relationships to look back on and model ourselves on. We have the chance to form new ways of relating. I know men who happily manage living as a threesome. I know others who have different networks of lovers, more part of a group than a couple. And I know lots of couples who will never marry, they have been together decades and see no need for it.

But of course, because of the way we're raised, being a couple is seen as the gold standard, and the appeal of the romantic "Love is forever and once" model is strong. It also explains the rise in popularity of gay marriage, something that simply wasn't even on the horizon 30 years ago when Gay Lib was at its most active. Then settling into a couple was almost seen as a bit strange, a bit limiting, blindly following straights, pretending to be like them in a sad little parody of suburban life, when gay men could be out there fucking and loving in all sorts of new ways - or so the theory went.

I know a lot of guys my age and older who are dismissive of gay marriage, see it as conformist, giving in, simply apeing the straights. But for many young guys it's obviously much more important, and I understand and respect that. It is a lovely thing to have your relationship celebrated by the most important people in your life, whatever the gender mix of the couple. It's important to have legal recognition as well. And standing up in front of everyone you care about and committing yourself to another person is a big thing.

But love - that magic word - we ask so much of it. We had both told the other we loved each other, in our own way, we both cared for and liked each other. But in the end, I could tell it wasn't enough.

I know I will love again, and everytime it's different. But as I age, I see more and more, love alone isn't enough.

Food, Sex and Blogging.

2012-01-08T14:57:00.000-08:00

I watched the movie "Julie and Julia" last night, about the blogger who spent a year cooking everything out of Julia Child's cookbook, a work of genius.

The film is not a work of genius - Amy Adams, the "Julie" character, is a whiny self-absorbed bore. I wanted way more Meryl Streep as Julia Child, so much more interesting.

But as a blogger, I appreciated what she was doing and saying. I'm a lazy blogger, I don't do it every day the way some do. I share her anxieties too - I write this stuff, but does anyone read it? Do I over-share? Do I tell too much? Do I bore people?

I hardly ever get comments here on the blog, but do on facebook, so I know some of you do like it - or when you don't you aren't shy about telling me either.

Anyway, her gimmick of cooking her way through Julia Child made me wonder if I could do anything like that, if there was a book I could follow and blog about for a year. The Hudson and Halls cookbook maybe? Maybe one of those "Change your life in three months" programmes? But they all seemed boring.

Then it struck me - if Julia Child's was a masterpiece of introducing French cooking to the wider world, Silverstein and White's "Joy of Gay Sex" was a masterpiece of introducing the wider world of sexual pleasure for gay men. I bought it in 1979 when I was 18, but somewhere along the way it got lost. But you can still get it today.

So what if I decided to work my way through every position and activity described in the book and blog about it? Would it gain me a whole new audience?

Of course, there are practical problems - I'd need to find someone to help out for most of it - and at 50 my libido isn't quite as strong as it was when I was 20. But it could be a fun project to set up for the year.

Where The Joy of Gay Sex works so well is that they were able to describe sex in a convincing, calm and open way. Writing about sex is actually difficult, it's too easy to slip into bad porn, or go to the other extreme and not say enough. it'd be a challenge - but let's see.

On a related note - sex - a guy contacted me online the other day, saying "I want you to breed me, I want to have your HIV+ cum in me and get poz myself. I want to fuck you raw."

My first reaction was to put on my "educators" hat and explain why this wasn't a good idea and maybe he should go get some counselling, living with HIV isn't easy etc. Then I thought "Fuck it, let's mess with his head" so I said "Yeah, I'd be up for that, the trouble is I take all my HIV meds regularly and my viral load has been undetectable for years, so I could probably dump 5 loads up your hole and you wouldn't get infected, sorry. Still wanna fuck though?"

Never heard back from him - I guess I destroyed his fantasy.

And what I said is true. Your chances of getting HIV from somone like me are tiny. It's not impossible, but the odds are it won't happen. It's having bareback sex with guys who don't know their status that is most dangerous, or guys who know they are poz but not taking any medication. Not that this I'd let an HIV neg guy have bareback sex with me anyhow.

I just thought his reaction was interesting - his big dirty jack-off fantasy about "seeding and breeding" suddenly crashed to earth.

And it just struck me - maybe this is my first entry in my "Joy of Sex" blog?

And It's Another Year Gone...and Happy 2012

2011-12-29T14:41:00.000-08:00

The end of another year - and that's not a bad thing. There have been ups and downs, as usual. Personally, it's been a hard year for a number of reasons, so I'm not sad to turn the page on 2011, and hope that 2012 feels better for me.

It's been quite a year really. Huge political changes in North Africa and the Middle East. I cheer on the one hand, but despair as well, as I read of the persecution of gay men that gets carried out in the turmoil. Scores of gay men have been targetted and murdered in Baghdad, killed just for being gay - this is hideous and barbaric, and it seems like it's not just happening there - we have become a legitimate target, easy to attack with no consequences. Gays don't count as real humans, we're just scum in their eyes. We are so lucky in New Zealand, as bad as things can get here, you won't be pulled into a car, driven off to some wasteland, raped, tortured and shot and then have your body dumped back at your parents' after. You can read more here...

It still amazes me that two men, or two women, or just the fact of an adult being sexually "different" can arouse such hatred and anger, such bile and stupid barbarity. And it's not just the Muslim world, there are Rabbis and Priests, Swamis and Gurus, Buddhists and Hindus who disagree about everything else except on what abominable sinful disgusting things we are.

Closer to home, we had the whole "It Gets Better" project as a response to the publicity around gay and queer youth suicide, starting in the US and then growing and growing. I think it is a great project, so many voices coming out with a positive message. By itself it's not enough of course, but it is a real step in putting positive messages out there for our youth. There was nothing like it when I was a suicidal teenager that's for sure - I had no idea that gay men could lead happy loving lives.

And honestly, life in general does get better as we age. It doesn't get perfect, but we learn how to cope better. I know that's true for me and most people I know. There will always be nasty bullies and shit-heads in the world, but as I get older they affect me less and less.

I listened to two women in their 80s talking about surviving breast cancer the other day and how they reacted to it, and one said "Well you do just get more balanced about things at our age". I love old ladies. They know stuff if you're ready to listen.

And listening is good, it's the gift of time, and as much of a cliche as it is, giving other people your time, giving them your attention, is the most precious thing you can do. Without time, we are nothing, and being open and willing to share it with others shows you respect and care for them in the way you would like to be. It is the greatest gift. And it runs out. Suddenly that friend you cared for is dead, and everything that kept you busy and stopped you seeing them suddenly seems trivial and a mistake. So where you can, give generously of your time, listen, pay attention, remember you're dealing with someone with a life that is as full of joy, worry and drama as your own.

I turned 50 this year, and I really wouldn't want to be 20 again - ok, I'd like my 20 year-old body back, but I wouldn't want to be that youth again. Or maybe when I was 25, I think I looked my best around then, weighed about 15 kgs less, had more hair and a higher libido. But I wouldn't want that head back.

I have had a tradition of getting laid on New Year's Eve, as the best way to see in a New Year, but I'm not sure if that'll happen this time. I'll be up at Urge, with old and new friends, and one of my oldest mates is visiting from London. But if you see this guy and he's looking lost, send him my way...

Summer needs books for me, especially when it's been as wet as this one has so far. I've just finished Peter Wells' latest work "The Hungry Heart" about the 19th C missionary William Colenso. I like Peter's work, especially his autobiography "Long Loop Home", but in this work he has really displayed his talent and power as a writer at a new level. If NZ history interests you in the slightest, you have to read this. If people interest you have to read it. It is a fascinating biography and at the same time a meditation on this country and what has shaped it. It grabbed me. Easily the best book I've read in 2011.

Whatever you do, I hope you have a great time on NYE, and that 2012 is a wonderful year for you. Thank you to those who give me their time and read what I write, I love hearing back from people about stuff, and am really humbled by some of the things people have told me. Sorry if I fucked you off, but hey, it gets better - promise!

I'm not a great one for New Year's resolutions, but I will try and be nicer in 2012. Honestly. Just don't piss me off.

Yo Ho Ho !

2011-12-20T16:46:00.000-08:00

And it's Christmas - again. It keeps coming around every year! I'm doing the usual mix of family and friends. A friend of mine told me this morning "Treasure your family, especially your Mum" - he's an orphan from another country, so he knows what it's like to only have friends at this time. Family lunch today, then again tomorrow, it's a lot all at once, but generally, I enjoy my family. And I like being an uncle and a great-uncle.

I'm lucky that way I guess, I know it's not the case for every gay guy. Families can be a curse or a blessing, or a mixture.

Another friend from SF told me the other day "You know, I read your blogs and think you sound more like a cranky old man, but I find myself agreeing with you!" So maybe I am cranky - and right at the same time if he's agreeing with me.

I can be a moody shit at times, I know. It's part of the package. I can also be kind, caring, charming and fun - we all have our weak-spots.

Whatever Santa brings you, I hope you have fun and get some time with people you love. I know it's a cliche, but time is the most important thing we can give each other, time to be with those you care about, time to listen, to have fun, just to be there - it's more precious than anything you can buy - cause one day, the time will run out.

Hot summer Xmas means men in shorts and skimpy t-shirts, so much eye-candy, I do enjoy that.

And I am amazed at the people who tell me they read this blog. So thank you for taking the time to read what I write - and keep reading!

Everything Comes and Goes...

2011-12-14T14:35:00.000-08:00

I went to my friend Wayne Otter's farewell from the NZAF yesterday.

18 years he'd been there. That's a long time. And he was there through the so much of the bad times, when we were sick and dying. When I was sick and dying. The thing about Wayne is that he was there - he did far more than his job description required. There aren't many people in the organisation on any level today who know what he knows, or have seen what he saw. His instinctive grasp of what it was like for us and the wider gay community and all those affected by HIV was a key asset, and will be missed. They couldn't muster up a single Board member to appear, just a pro-forma speech, which I think was a bit shabby.

But there was a lot of love and respect poured out to him yesterday from people who know what he has done, and he deserved it all and more.

And the two senior managers at NZAF are leaving as well, more change. Simon and Eamonn have both made a fantastic contribution over the years, often the most important work they've done is invisble to the outside, but they have done so much. Both of them based their work in a real sense of compassion and value for people, and an understanding of the vulnerability of many of the people NZAF works with and I respect and admire them for that. They will be hard to replace.

And Carmen died this morning in Sydney. She was amazing, a force of nature, and she helped lead the way for the changes so many of us have benfitted from. Her courage and strength in being herself and speaking up back in the bad old days when being queer was illegal and could result in going to prison was amazing. She had guts, and she showed us all we don't need to apologise for being who we are.

All this change as the end of the year comes up - but the one thing in life we can guarantee is change.

Love and Marriage

2011-12-05T15:55:00.001-08:00

I turned 50 in October, and I'm really happy about that. Half a century. That sounds old.

It did make me stop and think, re-evaluate my life, think about what I'm doing - after all, I never expected to be alive this long, every year feels like a bonus to me, so I want to make sure I'm making the most of it all.

And life is pretty good. I could do with more money, but materially my life is ok. I have a lot of people who care for me very much, family and freinds who love me, and I'm lucky in that.

It did strike me though, that I will probably never fall in love again. It's not impossible, I know, but let's face it - the odds are getting pretty long that I am going to meet a guy I am going to want to buy flowers for and do all the silly romantic things people in love do. It would be great to have that wonderful feeling in my life again, to meet a man and revel in that sense of joy and silly happiness that being in love brings. But I doubt it's going to come my way again. I think it's just the logic of circumstance - a barely employed 50 year-old HIV+ gay man isn't such a great catch.

And that does make me a little sad - only a little though.

I don't really share this desire that seems so common now, this desire to be married. I can understand the logic of it, the argument that if we really are equal citizens, we should be treated with exact equality, so from a pure human rights point of view, ok, I get it. But I don't get the desire to mimic mummy and daddy in the suburbs, to get engaged, and have a big wedding with a gift registry. I understand, it's validating for a lot of guys, but it still doesn't grab my heart or mind. I can understand wanting to celebrate your love in front of the most important people in your lives, but marriage, hmm, not for me. And really, expecting your friends to fork out cash because you want a new $500 toaster - that's just grasping and mean.

Most of the gay men I know who are married/civil unioned or whatever are still fucking around, so monogamy obviously isn't the driver. And gay men are different from straights, we do build our relationships differently.Celebrating love makes sense - aping straight marriage doesn't for me.

But back to romance, to falling in love - will I ever meet a guy and have that "swept off my feet" feeling again? Like I said, probably not. Someone somewhere said you never fall in love again after 40 because we've lived too long and can't trust in the same way, and that could be true.

To really fall for someone, you do have to suspend a lot of your hard-edged reality-based life, the world is full of butterflies and rainbows - that's the fun of it all, and that sweet, mad, intoxicating feeling of tenderness and the delight in getting to know each other - it's fantastic when it happens. And of course, it wears off over time.

When I look around at my friends, the ones in the successful relationships have been able to move from the "in love" to "love" stage, and that isn't always guaranteed to happen. Because building a loving relationship isn't about being in love really - it's about finding someone you want to be with through all the ordinary stuff in life, paying bills, cleaning the house, all those unromantic things.

I am glad I'm around, and I am lucky to be loved in the ways that I am, but a little part of me mourns that I'll probably never have that feeling again, that all-encompassing, light-headed, seeing stars when he walks in the room kind of feeling again.

But who knows - life has surprised me before.

Why is HIV Invisible ?

2011-11-30T13:25:00.001-08:00

December 1st is World AIDS Day, the UN's theme this year is "Getting to Zero" but who would know it here in New Zealand? As I write this, I can find zero public notice of the fact. Nothing in the mainstream print media. Apparently the NZAF put out a press release, but that seems to have sunk into obscurity. I can't see any evidence of work from Body Positive or the other HIV+ support groups either, but all of this could simply relate to the way the mainstream media just aren't interested in this topic anymore, not unless it gives them a nice lurid scandal to put in a headline. Or perhaps it relates to a total lack of any media strategy from all these groups.

Maybe the Occupy movement here in NZ are all wearing red ribbons today...or maybe not. The complete indifference from nearly all areas of the social and political world in New Zealand really fucks me off. People who should be our natural allies don't even seem to konw about it. Public figures are ignorant. Why isn't the Prime Minister wearing a red ribbon? I'll bet (a) he doesn't even know it is World AIDS Day and (b) if he did, he wouldn't because it might offend his more conservative supporters.

A friend in the US said the World Bank puts a huge red ribbon on the front of their building in Washington to mark it every year - do we see any effort like that here?

Part of the problem must lie with the long-standing practice of NZAF to have the World AIDS Day street collection on the Friday before the actual day.

This is a really stupid decision, and one that is disrespectful of what this day is about. You don't move ANZAC Day or Armisitice Day to suit - World AIDS Day deserves the same level of respect and attention, but bureaucratic logic has been imposed on this for years. And the reports show the street collection has gone down again.

A friend who works in public health in a regional centre said it took him ages and to get any material from NZAF to mark World AIDS Day, and even then none of it had the date on it.

This public indifference is not something we can solely blame the NZAF for, but they carry a big share of it. They have an in-house media machine, but it seems particularly ineffectual. Why aren't there stories in all the major papers or news sites? Perhaps I will get a nice surprise later and see TV reports on the main channels about it all, and the news presenters wearing red ribbons. Or not.

Hell, in the past I've had pieces published in the Herald and been interviewed on National Radio for World AIDS Day - all off my own bat. I'm not a media professional, but if I can get that much done why the fuck can't the people drawing a salary for this get us out there front and centre?

It pisses me off, because if we don't keep HIV in the public eye, we lose out on many levels.

Those of us who have the virus feel even more invisible and marginalised for one thing. Living with HIV is hard enough, a little public support today would be good.

For another, the news that HIV is still a real threat and needs to be dealt with and talked about in public is key to keeping people informed and helping reduce new infections.

HIV/AIDS is different from other epidemics. It is tied up in so many people's minds with issues of morality, shame, and guilt, that it's hard to have a rational discussion about it at the best of times, but today is the one day of the year that we should be able to have our voices heard and be seen, be visible and be heard.

Millions and millions of people have died from AIDS around the world, millions of men, of women, and children - they deserve to be acknowledged today.

Millions and millions of people are living with HIV,and more will become infected as well, they deserve to be acknowledged today.

Millions of us are alive with it right now, and let me tell you, even with all the medical improvements, life with HIV still sucks. We deserve to be acknowledged today.

To all the people I've known over the years who have helped and supported me and others living with HIV, my deepest and most sincere thanks.

To all the people I know who have died from AIDS here and around the world, you live on in my memory.

And to all the people who will become HIV+ today and in the future, I hope you live somewhere you can get good medical care, I hope you live somewhere where you don't have to feel ashamed of who you are because of a virus in your blood, I hope you feel support, and I hope you know love.

UPDATE:

There is now a piece on the NZ Herald website - so that is cool.

Round Up

2011-11-14T14:56:00.001-08:00

So the NZAF has had its AGM and Board elections - well done to the new trustees, but it's very sad to see no-one with links to Auckland's gay community on the board, and no-one with HIV itself. I asked a few friends who had been active around HIV issues before if they'd voted and their reaction was "What's the point?" The general sense was that the NZAF is no longer connected to the community that established it.

NZAF used to be central to the world of gay men in New Zealand - now, with the number of people living with HIV at the highest they've ever been, they're seen as increasingly irrelevant. Auckland has got by far the largest population of HIV+ guys, yet we now have a board with zero contact or knowledge of this world. Let's hope they can rectify that with a judicious appointment - I think they have one place left to fill. As an HIV+ man, and an ex-Chair of the organisation, I find this development sad and worrying for the future effectiveness of its work.

And we have a national election looming. Do you vote along lines of self-interest? Along lines of what you think is best for the country over the future? For candidates or parties that support queer issues?

Sometimes it's tempting to say "A plague on all your houses"and walk off in disgust but voting really does matter.

I have friends who will vote National - I won't - one of their new candidates, Dr Jian Yang, has said he's against gay marriage. It's not an issue that preoccupies me personally, but I think that from a human rights point of view, you can't get away from the fact that if we are full citizens, we deserve 100% equal rights in all areas. Jian Yang doesn't agree, and he's not the only one in National. National does have one out gay MP, Chris Finlayson, and a few in the closet, but they are not exactly that interested in us. Their "gay strategy" seems to be getting Nikki Kaye to be our new girlfriend in Ponsonby bars.

Labour have been on our side for decades now, but again with limits. They've certainly done more for the rights of queer people than anyone else, and have also been onside with issues around HIV, and they have a number of happily out gay MPs. But while there is a lot of good in Labour, there's a lot of dead-wood too.

ACT - yes, I know gay men who vote ACT. Why? I don't know. It's always worth repeating the fact that John Banks said putting six inches of barbed wire up a gay man's arse was a waste of good barbed wire. He smiles and claims he's changed, but I wouldn't trust him as far as I can kick him.

The Greens - all definitely onside for queer issues, and Kevin Hague MP has almost been the de facto Opposition spokesman on Health during this last parliament. But do you think the rest of their policies make sense?

The Maori Party - forget it - Tariana and Pita look all warm and cuddly, but they "tolerate" the gays, they don't support us. I remember Tariana saying a few years ago that she wouldn't support gay marriage because it was against a Maori understanding of marriage. Fine. I won't support you though.

Mana - a wasted vote, as is NZ First or United Future.

Yes, whoever you vote for, the politicians will win - but get out and do it.

So it will be interesting to see what happens. I'm in Auckland Central, so will give the Labour Candidate Jacinda Ardern my electorate vote, I'm still deciding where my list vote will go.

On a lighter note - Bearracuda was great the other night - so good to be in a room full of hot ,sweaty men, dancing ourselves stupid to great music, seeing friends, meeting new people, just having fun. And summer is coming, so there are lots of hot men in shorts and that is a very good thing. I have a thing for legs...hairy legs...tempting the eye up...

The sun is shining, life isn't too bad.

Won't Somebody Think of the Children!

2011-11-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

New Zealand has a long history of sad, joyless, puritan wowsers, out to point their finger and tell us what is best for us. 100 years ago they tried to ban booze. They know better than we do what we should read, listen to or see, of course, because...well...just because.

Yeah, I 'm writing about the ban on Odd Future's appearance at the Big Day Out next year.

Apparently the idea that some of their lyrics might offend us gays is enough to get them banned. Goodness knows that we homos are such delicate wee flowers, it is obvious that hearing people voice nasty words about us will lead to mass suicides.

Or not.

As Craig Ranapia has pointed out at Public Address, the process around this has been disturbing to say the least. Who the fuck gave Sandra Coney and others the right to act as our censors, on the pretext that some people might be offended?

In a free society we have freedom of speech, and that means that sometimes we will all be offended by what others say. Is it mean? Are those words cruel? Are they sexist/racist/homophobic/transphobic? Are they the complete opposite to everything I hold dear and believe? Tough - that's the price we all pay for a free society.

Yes, of course I am aware of the damage done by bullying and homophobia - I have spent a good deal of my time as an adult fighting it. Banning speech, music or songs that can be classified as homophobic is not the way to go. And if they believe that banning OF is the right thing to do, why don't they go further? Why don't they try and get their music banned totally in the country? Or is it all just a little bit of sanctimonious grandstanding? What next? Will our self-appointed moral guardians start burning the CDs and books that also contain language that can be seen as offensive and bullying? Because there are thousands of them out there. That's a lot of bonfires.

You don't have a right not to be offended.

And the pretext that what someone might say, or has said before, is enough to deny them the right to say what they want is characteristic of totalitarian states, like the old USSR, the old South Africa, or Iran or North Korea today.

Noam Chomsky said it better than I can:

"If you believe in freedom of speech, you believe in freedom of speech for views you don't like. Goebbels was in favor of freedom of speech for views he liked. So was Stalin. If you're in favor of freedom of speech, that means you're in favor of freedom of speech precisely for views you despise." (Chomsky 1992)

And for your aural pleasure...

I Was A Gay Hippy - Then I Started Thinking

2011-11-01T18:26:00.000-07:00

When I was young - such a long time ago gentle reader - but when I was, way back in my early 20s, I was a gay hippy, a believer in all sorts of fringe New Age ideas, like shamanism, the Radical Faeries and all that went with it like homeopathy, astrology, shakra-alignment, karmic choice, all sorts of crap.

The Radical Faeries appealed because they are the ultimate in gay hippydom really. They take the idea that gay men have a special spiritual gift, and we are ntaurally more inclinced to being spiritual healers/leaders/ whatever. All based in pretty piss-poor anthropology and re-interpreting other cultures to fit what was basically a cozy American middle-class identity of gay hippy.

But it was attractive in its own way. It provided community of a sort, I met some great guys. I was even a professional tarot card reader for a while. Yes, I've had a rich and varied life.

Part of it was based in that general questioning and rejection of mainstream society that came so naturally to me after figuring out I was gay.

If they were wrong about this major part of me, if being gay was actually ok, then what else had they got wrong? It did lead me to quesiton all sorts of things, and try out all sorts of shit. Maybe Western Medicine was all a big rip-off and con, if we looked to nature and led a pure life we wouldn't get sick! Reality is just a perception that we choose to perceive! Think differently and you can change your reality! You can be anything you want to be! We all chose to be born where we are to learn life-lessons this time round! All that crap.So comforting if you are relatively well-off in a developed country, but it doesn't really offer much to a 2 year-old orphan starving to death because of famine and civil war. "You're suffering now because of your past incarnations." But I know people who still believe that shit.

I sat in circles with other men, chanted, wept, re-birthed, invoked the Goddess, did seances, lived in a gay hippy commune, all that stuff. Some of it was good, some of the emotional work, and one of my dearest friends is from that time in my life. But the rest of it - nah, not so much.

You see, I don't believe in a soul, I don't believe in reincarnation, therefore I don't believe in karma. I don't believe there is anything divine or supernatural to the world. No God, no Devil, no Heaven, no Hell. The stars are out there in the universe being stars - astrology is delusional. No-one has psychic powers, because there is nothing psychic in the universe. The dead are dead, we can't communicate with them, they are gone; spiritualism and seances were invented in the mid 19th century.

I know that homeopathy, astrology and all that other New Age stuff is just a major con-job, but it is comforting because it lets people have the illusion of some level of power over their lives, it adds some sort of mystery to our ordinary lives. It is comforting to think that we can connect with a loved one after they die, but it's just self-deceit. It's comforting to think that after death bad people will be punished, and the good rewarded. We like to imagine a perfect world, and as we can't get it here, we push it out till after death. I know it pisses some of my friends off, but I just don't share those belief systems. I don't believe in any of the Maori spiritual stuff either, I regard it as just as much a con-job as the rest.

You can't be anything you want to be, and you can't do anything you want to do. There are limits that no amount of positive thinking will change. (Pic ganked from lolcubs)

There was never one turning point, in my move away from it all. Living overseas in a radically different culture helped me see just how limited and privileged the entire "Alternative Lifestyle" things is. It picks and chooses as it exploits little bits and pieces of other culture's spiritual beliefs, and shapes them to suit a largely white, middle-class audience.

And then I got sick with AIDS. Really sick. And this was at the time when medicine wasn't able to do much, so there was a lot of interest, and desperation, from a lot of guys looking for anything that would help them.

People I know tried ozone-bagging (look it up) , Chinese medicine, Ayuravedic medicine, colour therapy, all sorts of herbal cures - and they stayed sick and then they died. Some of got hold of the belief that western medicine was bad, and they were killing us with it. And it did give guys who were often desperate a sense of control over what they were doing, I can't deny it. It felt like we were taking an active role in our health, in fighting this virus that western medicine had failed with.

Then the new meds came out in the mid-90s, and suddenly, things changed. I started on the new meds and I stopped being so sick. So did lots and lots of other HIV+ people. Western medicine worked.

It wasn't my chakras, it wasn't thanks to Chinese medicine or positive thinking. It was thanks to rational, science-based medicine. I love western medicine, it saved my life.

Some people think this is a bleak way to view life and universe, but I don't. I think the universe is amazing! I love it! I don't find it a bleak way to view my life, I would call it realistic, and I'd rather look at life calmly and realistically, than wrap it up in all sorts of comforting delusions.

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

2011-10-25T15:54:00.000-07:00

So many things swimming around to write about, things I've been thinking about. Life, politics, HIV, horror.

Life: I turned 50 last week - that was amazing - and I celebrated with family and friends. It was a lot of fun, and I am very glad, and I am very lucky. And I was very hungover...

Politics - well the election looms, and I have opinions, but I'll get to them in another blog. But to be clear, National and ACT and United Future are shit. Perhaps I'm getting old and grumpy, but none of the parties actually inspire me.

HIV - why are young guys not getting the message? Part of the blame must lie at the feet of the NZAF. They are supposed to be experts at connecting with the gay community, that is what they were established to do, and what they get millions of dollars in government funding for and pay out hundreds of thousands of dollars in salaries for, but they have dropped the ball here. As they have moved away from being a community organisation to a generic Wellington style bureaucracy, this was inevitable though. Infection numbers continue to rise, young people aren't being reached by their programmes - not exactly a success story for NZAF at the moment. And part of the blame must lie with we older men not being able to pass the message down as well.But I'll come back to that another day.

And horror - real horror. The story from Scotland this week of Stuart Walker being beaten then burnt alive is unutterably disgusting, enraging, and saddening.

Imagine the agony, the terror, and the pain of his final hours.

This was an act of pure, deliberate and unspeakable evil.

Was it an act of homophobia? It is hard to be sure, but the indications are strong that it was. The vicious and dehumanising nature of the assault suggest it was much more than just a random drunken assault. It has chilling reminders for me of the way Matthew Shepherd was slaughtered in 1998.

There is the same sadistic delight in humiliating and tormenting a gay man, and the same contempt for his body. To burn someone alive - what sort of person can do that? To pour out such contempt on his physical shell - what lies behind this thinking?

What is there about being gay, about being sexually different, that can inspire such hatred, such blind and meaningless torture? Make no mistake, there are people who feel that way in this country too. Some of them used to be in Parliament - the ACT candidate for Epsom, John Banks, once famously said that shoving six inches of barbed wire up a gay man's arse was a waste of good barbed wire. That is the kind of evil that lies behind these sort of acts.

These people have the ability to regard as something far less than human, simply because we are not straight. They see nothing wrong with torturing us, they see nothing wrong with harassing us, they see nothing wrong with killing us. We are such scum in their eyes, that we do not matter.

Yes, NZ has come a long way. But it is not hard to find blind, unreasoning hatred of us out there. I really hope I'm wrong, but I will be disugusted and enraged when something like this happens here, but I won't be surprised.

Love, Lust and Intimacy

2011-10-10T16:19:00.000-07:00

I was trying to think of the last time I spent the whole night with a guy, going to bed, fucking, and waking up together - it's been a while. So long in fact that I can't remember. It's not that I haven't been having sex - I have. But actually sleeping with someone - that is something that happens rarely. It seems to me that in the past it used to happen much more. You'd go out, pick up, go back to his or your place, and stay the night - it was common in my youth. Maybe in the morning there'd be an embarassing rush for clothes and insincere mumbles about seeing each other again, or maybe you'd have coffee, meet the flatmates, and go. But staying the night was normal. Perhaps it's just me, but now it's not really part of my life.

I realised that sleeping with a man is now a much greater act of intimacy for me than fucking with one, which is a little strange, but when I think about it, maybe it's not that weird.

I know that my life isn't a replica of how all gay men behave, but I'm not that unusual either, and a lot of us do have a lot of sex, and often with a lot of different guys. It's fun - shit, when it's good it's a hell of a lot of fun. Sex is revealing too, it shows a lot about who you are, fantasies, reactions to things, good sex needs you to be comfortable and happy in your skin. We open ourselves to another, we make ourselves vulnerable. But it isn't always emotionally intimate, even though physically you can't get much more intimate than getting your dick up some guy or having his up you.

Sleeping with another man - to me, that is way more intimate. When we sleep, we trust someone else to lie there with us as we drift off into unconsciousness. You are helpless, and defenceless when you sleep. The personality is gone, it is just the body, at rest, exposed, vulnerable. And the body does what the body does, even the most beautiful of us snore, or drool on the pillow, we lose all control over how we present ourselves to the world, we lie there revealed, like a baby.

There is something lovely about lying there, holding and touching and another guy as I drift off. I don't like sleeping all cuddled up though, I need some space, but I love that feeling of drowsily brushing up against a man's body in the middle of the night, the slight touch, then rolling over and drifitng off again. And there is a special intimacy to lying there with a lover, holding hands, touching, talking about the deep stuff, together, naked in bed, as sleep rolls in and you both drift off.

So I guess it's not surprising to me that I do this so rarely now. Who do I trust enough to open myself up to so much? Who do I love enough to bring into my life this way? At the moment, no-one.

And it brings me back to that point, that central defining issue for me about being a gay man. That is, it's not the sex that makes me gay, it's that I want to share my love with another man. The sex is just the easy part, the fun part, but it's not the same as love. And for me, being gay isn't about who I fuck, it's about who I love. And who I sleep with.

When Silence Isn't Golden

2011-09-19T16:35:00.000-07:00

A student came up to me after a lecture last week to thank me.

I'd been doing my annual guest lecture on "Gay Auckland" and, among other things, talked of the way gay men tend to move to cities from small towns, and how that affects Auckland, and often then we move on overseas, to Sydney, or New York or London.

This guy came up and told me how I'd described what he had done by coming to Auckland, and now he planned to move to Sydney or Melbourne when he graduated. He recognised part of his life in what I was teaching, and that's important.

Earlier this year, I had an email sent in the name of some queer students in another class of mine, who said how much they'd appreciated me working gay/queer themes into aspects of the course, and how this never happens normally.

It made me realise just how invisible we still are, and reminded me just how important visibility is.

If we don't see ourselves represented, whether it's on TV, in movies, or in the classroom, it makes it seem like we don't matter, like we're not really there - just ghosts, hovering on the edges of "real" life. In fact, there are queers in every layer and level of life, from tow-truck drivers to theatre directors, investment bankers to accupuncturists. As the old slogan says "We are everywhere."

But why are we so invisible? Why even in the University of Auckland, in disciplines that might be expected to pay attention to us, are we ignored? Why do my students feel invisible until I incorporate our stories into my teaching?

That's why being "out" is still important. Some people have said it doesn't matter anymore, that we shouldn't care if someone is out or not about being gay. I say bullshit. Especially if you are a public figure. It's just cowardice to hide behind "Oh it doesn't matter, we're all just people."

If we're all "just people" and it really doesn't matter, then why be so coy about honestly describing yourself?

We do have to put up with shit from the wider world for being queer, it's called homophobia, it's real, it's nasty, it damages people's lives and it's not ok. And people who stay in the closet add to that.

Yeah, I know, it's not easy for everyone - some people have huge family or professional obstacles to face if they do it. But it's never really been that easy for most of us. it was hard for me back when I was a teenager too. But I came out and am glad I did.

None of the political changes we have got would have happened without people standing up and saying "Yes, I am gay/lesbian/queer and I'm just as good as you."

Silence, or that polite "Let's not make waves" attitude that we see is actually bad for us as a whole. We have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide.

I'm glad I can make a little bit of difference here and there, but it just shows how much remains to be done as well. My students shouldn't have to write me emails of gratitude because they see themselves represented in what they are studying with me - that they do is gratifying to me on one level, but it also shows just what limits we continue to live with.

Middle-Aged Angst

2011-09-06T19:10:00.000-07:00

A friend died the other week, a lovely, warm and kind man, he was younger than me, and it was out of the blue. Heart attack while doing something he loved, so as deaths go, I guess it counts as a good one. Not for his husband or family of course, it was just awful, but I'd rather go like that with no long decline of sickness and hospitals - when I go I hope it's fast.

At his funeral there was a lot of talk about enjoying life now, seizing the day, not putting things off. These are things we all say, but they became far more real and relevant in this setting.

So that, and the fact I will be 50 next month, have made me sit back a bit and take stock, consider my life and what I'm doing and where it's heading.

I am still surprised to be alive - I never thought I'd make it this long after getting my HIV diagnosis in 1988. I've been told twice by doctors to get ready to die, and I'm still here. You'd think I'd be pretty good at living in the moment, at seizing the day, at directing my life in ways to make me happy, but I'm not so sure I have been doing that lately. And I have been so lucky to keep on when so many others didn't, I feel a sort of obligation to them to live well, not to waste this amazing second chance I've been given.

I see 50 approaching, and I'm happy - I'm going to throw one big party I can tell you - but am I doing what I really want to be doing with this life?

Is this my mid-life crisis? If I was a straight man maybe I'd get a divorce and a Harley and 20 year-old girlfriend. But I don't know how to ride a motorbike and most 20 year-olds bore me after a bit.

It seems like so much of my life has been based around HIV - either dealing with it as it nearly killed me, slowly getting over it, and being involved in the politics of it. I wonder now if I want to follow that pattern over the next ten years. It has taken up a huge amount of space in my life, but I think I need to make room for other things before I die.

And realistically, I probably do only have ten years or so left - the meds are great at tackling HIV, but they are intensive daily chemo-therapy, they put a burden on the body - I know I'm far more likely to die of a heart-attack brought on by my the side effects of my HIV meds than to die of AIDS now - I find that quite grimly amusing.

In the meantime, I have to keep a roof over my head and put food on the table - but after meeting those basics, I'm left with this "Now what?" feeling.

Something will change, that's how it feels to me right now. I'm not sure just what, but I can see the signs in myself of something shifting, something moving.

I'm lucky - I have a great family, wonderful friends, I am loved and I know it. But something else is there niggling away...

Sexual Healing

2011-08-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

My regular fuck-buddy and I have been rooting each other for over 5 years now. That's longer than a lot of other relationships I've had. He's 11 years younger than me and he's so good for me.

We go through phases where we see each other lots, and times when we're busy and a few months go by, but it always feels the same when we meet up again.

We laugh, we chat, have some wine, we cuddle and kiss, and we fuck, and then we cuddle, and... you know how it goes. There is a genuine affection for each other there too, we know each other pretty well by now. Last week he said to me "I know your body so well, I know how you will respond when I touch you like this...or here, and I love it!" And I can do the same to him. And hey, he's hot, athletic, hairy and hung - what's not to like?

He's HIV negative, and my status isn't an issue for him at all. That's something I really value. When you're HIV+ it's a lot harder to meet guys who can relax like this. So often if I tell someone I'm poz they put their guard up, and sex with the guard up is not good sex; and so often we guys who are poz feel undesirable, unsexy, marked by "the plague" especially when it comes to getting naked. With him I feel desirable, I feel hot, and I feel cared for. These things matter.

Gay culture puts a lot of emphasis on sex, and HIV+ guys often feel excluded from that side of things. Having someone I can just relax with this way is such a good thing in my life. He is very well-informed, and completely at ease with all we need to do to keep him HIV negative while we have fun. We've never even had a broken condom or any kind of scare in all this time, so I know from personal experience that safe sex and great sex do go together.

It's an interesting dynamic for a relationship. It really is based on sex. Good, sensual, athletic, fun sex. He is exhausting at times, but in the best possible way. I even found myself in a new position the other day - and at nearly 50 I thought I knew it all.

Neither one of us really wants it to go beyond this either. We genuinely like each other, but we both know the limits to what we have, how and why it works.

It's a relationship, but we don't want to meet each other's families or friends, we don't want to live together, we aren't in love. We like each other, we turn each other on, and we fuck really well together. We give each other pleasure.

And I really enjoy that.

Eight Years On & I Still Miss You

2011-07-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

Eight years ago, on July 26th, I sat by the bedside of one of my most loved friends as he lay dying in the scummy, dank AIDS ward in Athens.

David Turner was so lovely, so kind, so smart and funny. He came into my life in the 1980s when I was living in Istanbul and he brought a group of US students over who were studying Byzantine history - he was a historian and a scholar. David was old friends with another friend of mine from my youth, John, who was visiting me at the time, so we all met up. David has spent part of his youth at school in Auckland where he'd met John, but his mother was Greek, and he was always happiest there.

That first day we met we three had an uproarious slightly drunken lunch together, filled with such lewd and vulgar sexual jokes and stories that we actually made a group of English tourists get up and leave the restaurant in disgust.We didn't care. David loved to shock, loved to confront, but tried hard not to hurt. We had a fairly immediate sexual frisson. But he lived in Athens, and I lived in Istanbul, and although we got naked and had fun a few times, we soon decided we were going to be friends, not lovers, but I loved him.

It was a friendship I treasured, because of who he was. He'd stay with me when he could on a his visits to Turkey, and I stayed at his flat in Athens a number of times over the years, and we'd stay up drinking and smoking and arguing, with David excitedly insisting on listening to one more album, one more piece of music. He had a tendency to play Bruckner, very loud. All sorts of people would wander through, Greek and foreign - theology students, historians, anarchists, guys he had fucked, old lovers, archaelogists and scholars from the British School in Athens who were experts in their areas of speciality, and usually experts at drinking litres of wine as well. It was a fascinating, cosmopolitan and and multi-lingual group, slipping from English to Greek to German to Turkish depending on who was there. We were young, we were living in a great part of the world. We had so much fun together.

David was a strongly believing Greek Orthodox Christian who saw no conflict with that and being gay. He even got us an audience with the Patriarch of Constantinople. We had some great arguments over religion, and he really knew how to argue. And he knew how to laugh. Every time he visited Hagia Sophia in Istanbul he'd make a point of going to the grave of the Venetian Doge Dandolo just to spit on it. Dandolo had led the Fourth Crusade which had sacked Constantinople. The Greeks have never forgiven Dandolo.

I went back to Turkey in 2003, travelled to Syria, and then was going to visit him in Athens, stay again in that familiar flat. He'd been unwell for a long time, with all sorts of strange little illnesses, but no-one thought to test him for HIV, and he never suggested it it seems. That's sad, as he had been one of a group who had fought to set up some basic HIV care in Athens. The assumption was that he was so well-versed in it that he would have been testing, but he hadn't been. By the time he'd finally been diagnosed with HIV, he was incredibly ill. And in a move I still do not understand, even though his Drs knew he was allergic to penicillin, they gave it to him anyway to treat one of his infections. He developed Stevens-Johnson syndrome, a truly horrible condition where your skin peels away from the underlying tissue, even the mucous membranes in your nose and the interior of your eyelids can come away.

I didn't realise just how sick he was till I got there. At the time I was still Chair of the NZAF, and his friends all looked to me as someone who could help, someone who knew more about HIV and AIDS than they did, but as soon as I saw him I knew he was dying.

His body, that beautiful sexy body I'd kissed and held and loved and fucked was doubled in size, thanks to the steroids they'd put him on to counter the Stevens-Johnson. His skin was a mess, coming off in sheets. His mind was wandering, he was confused, but we had stretches of lucidity where he told me how envious he was of me getting to Syria, to Damascus and Aleppo - we promised to go to Mt Athos together. I stayed in his flat, so strange to be there alone, no partys, no loud music, just his books, icons and music all around. Strange to lie alone in that bed where we'd fucked so many years ago. He was surrounded by friends, and that was a blessing. He had an American colleague down the street who was deeply involved, and his friends from the British School, and they were good to me too, but I felt alone, bereft. My trip had so far been full of excitement and renewing old friendships, and here with one of the men I most valued, one of the friends I most wanted to see, I was only in time to watch him die.

Every day I had the routine of going to visit him, to sit by his bed. It was through him I had come to love Athens as a city, but now it seemed hard and unforgiving. The AIDS ward he was in was in a shabby old piece of a hospital, an early 20th Century red brick place is what I remember, with just a few rooms, there was a gaunt African refugee dying in the room next door. It was a deeply depressing place to be. I hope they've changed it since then.

And then he died, as I and his American friend and his girlfriend sat there that evening. I could tell it was coming, I'd seen it before, I've watched enough friends die to know it. He died. And after we sat and gave the Dr on duty the information he needed, he told us we had to help take the body to the morgue.

That was particularly brutal, just minutes after watching him die, to be told in an off-hand manner that we were expected to do this. I remember us using a sheet to move his body onto a gurney, then pushing it through the ward and down a ramp to a strange, cold little morgue with a few icons hanging on the walls. And that was where we left him. It was brutal, but it was also right somehow I guess, that people who loved him helped took him on that journey.

Then there was the aftermath back at the flat. The phone calls from his friends, Greeks speaking in broken English, trying to understand. "Dead? What do you mean - no, he can't be dead!" Their disbelief, their sorrow, his brother arriving from the country, dumb with grief, looking for clothes to dress him in. I got stoned and went out to a gay bar, Aleccos, got drunk and picked a guy up and took him back. It wasn't the best sex, but I guess I needed some skin contact, there in David's bed. He would have understood.

And I couldn't stay for the funeral, I had flights that I couldn't change, had to get back to Istanbul, then London, to get back here. I took one of his icons from beside his bed as a memento, an icon of the prophet Elijah being fed by ravens in the wilderness, and I see it every day and think of him.

But eight years on, and the grief has dulled, but my darling David, you wonderful, funny, outrageous man, I still miss you, I still think of you, I still love you.

Is It You or Is It Me?

2011-07-18T17:03:00.000-07:00

What years of agonising aversion therapy, hormone treatment for some, being prayed over and beatings and prison couldn't do, Shortland Street scriptwriters have managed. Again. They turned a gay character straight. Again. Jonathan McKenna on his return to the show has now fallen for Gabrielle, when years ago his youthful character was hailed for helping break down sterotypes about gay men.

Obviously the ex-Gay movement, homophobic religious types and the few remaining psychiatrists who claim we are mentally sick should get on a plane and find out just what their secret is, because they succeed in turning gay men and women straight with remarkable frequency.

I know, I know, it's a TV soap opera and has little to do with reality, but still, I find something nasty about the way they do this. Australia isn't much better, with "Home and Away" nicknamed "Homo Away" as any gay character they ever bring in is quickly moved on. It's like the way the Soviets used to re-write history, air-brushing inconvenient leaders out of photos and history. And even though it's fiction, it tries very hard to pretend that it represents New Zealand. Just without the sodomy.

Given the number of gay writers involved in the show, you'd think they could keep one gay character going in a reasonably realistic manner - they do it for everyone else.

Why can't the lesbians stay lesbian on Shorty? Why can't the poofs stay poofs? Or is being gay really just "a lifestyle choice" as our enemies like to maintain? That is certainly the message you get from Shorty. "Yeah, you're a guy who likes guys at the moment, but don't worry, we'll cure you!" Part of it is obviously financial. The show needs advertisers, and gay men just don't sell that well. Straight men like looking at pretty lesbians and imagining themselves with them, so you can get away with that a bit more - but obviously not too much.

Do people really change from gay to straight with such ease? Not in my experience, and certainly not if you look into any of the research. Changing people's sexual orientation is largely seen as impossible for most, and uneccesary as well. Now, I do know that for some women, love is more important than the physical gender of the person they are with, so some women do move from loving women to men and back - it happens. But most who call themselves lesbians tend to stay that way in my experience.

A long time ago I knew a couple of straight men who decided to "turn gay" out of (I am serious) deeply helpd political convictions based in a radical style of feminism. They thought being with men would help undermine the patriarchy. Last I heard they'd both gone straight again. It didn't take, because where you sit on the spectrum of human sexuality is pretty deeply wired in. And yes, it is a spectrum, but most people tend to be clustered either at the straight end, or the gay end - there really aren't that many occupying the middle ground.

I sure as hell didn't "choose" to be gay, and I get really pissed off when people talk about it as a "lifestyle choice" - it's not a choice, it's an integral and natural part of who I am, just like my height and eye-colour. And it's not something that you can suddenly change by flipping a switch.

Do soap operas have a duty to tell the truth? Yes and no. Obviously it's fiction. But if they only portrayed Maori as drug-dealing gang-members who kill their babies, there would be a justifiable outcry. If they portrayed all nurses and doctors as drug-addicted lazy and incompetent, there would be an outcry.

But if they turn a gay man straight - well, who cares? And have they ever turned a straight man gay? I don't think so. I'd love to see TK and Owen realise their mutual antagonism really stems from their long deeply-held love for each other. But we won't see that.

Visibility matters. It is important that we queers are seen on TV, and seen as normal and part of everyday life - because that is the truth. We are normal. We are part of everyday life. As the old Gay Lib slogan said "We are everywhere!" It is important that young queers of whatever stripe see ourselves represented and know they aren't freaks, and know they aren't alone in the world.We are not something to hide from, to be afraid of, or something to wipe out.

I guess the main imperative is commercial, but that's really not a good enough excuse. We need to be seen. We need to be shown to be part of mainstream NZ culture. Because, that is what we are, and we deserve nothing less.

More Life Online

2011-07-04T18:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have been assimilated by the Apple Borg, and yes, I love my iPhone, but it does make me stop and think. Most gay men who have an iPhone or Android will know at least one of these icons: Scruff, Grindr and Recon. And there are lots more, Manhunt, Gaydar, Adam4Adam to name just a few.

All designed so we can get a root, or maybe love, not just in the privacy of our own home while online, but when we're out and about through the apps on our phone.

New technology = new ways to hook up. Is this what happend when they invented paper and ink?

It is kind of weird to have my phone chirp at me from my pocket while I'm walking to work and find someone in Texas thinks I'm hot and will be out here in 3 months and do I wanna hook up? Weird, but cool in a strange sort of way. Hey, it's flattering even if it will probably never happen. (He was HOT btw).

I love the way I can monitor the different time-zones on scruff, as the screen fills up with people from different parts of the globe. You can see the changes in time as the population on the screen alters over the day - Asia, Europe, the Americas, back to our part of the world.

And there are the guys you see on different sites, presenting themselves slightly differently. Scruff is a bit more bearish, grindr a bit more gym-bunny, but I often see the same guys on lots of sites. A mate joked with me the other day that we chat on five different platforms now. Then he told me I hadn't logged into scruff for a while. Sometimes the phone can go crazy with messages coming - so good for the ego - some days no-one woofs or says I'm hot - sad face.

I have a friend I've never met, we only chat on recon, and we've been talking for nearly 2 years now I guess. He just had a (non-HIV related) health scare, and we've been talking about that; I really like him, and was quite concerned for him, so it's been a real relief to hear he's ok - and that's kind of strange when you sit back and think about it. Here is this guy I've never physically met, contacted through a gay fetish site, and we now have a friendship that involves a lot more than anything sexual. He's an academic too, so we often talk about ideas as well. It's a bizarre way to know someone. But I'm glad I know him.

Of course, there is the joke of being in a gay bar and watching half the men sit there, beer in one hand, phone in the other, busily looking at who is hot on whatever site they're using and ignoring the living breathing men around them. Sometimes it seems like nearly the whole bar is doing it. And you have to wonder just why we can't get off the phone and talk to a man who is sitting close by. It connects us and disconnects us at the same time.

It is very similar to online hook-ups, but it feels even more pared back, leaner. Messages tend to be shorter, more to the point, because it's harder to write on those keyboards I guess. One mate said the question he gets most often on his phone is "How big's your cock?"

I know some guys have met the love of their lives through online dating/hookup sites - I haven't heard of it happening via these phone apps yet, but it's bound to have happened by now, and nothing wrong with that - how you meet is not important.

How much is real and how much is fantasy, or a carefully shopped photo? A mate was talking about someone he'd just met in real life the other day and said "He really has to stop using that photo on scruff, it must be 10 years old at least!". You never can be sure just how it's going to be until you meet in the flesh, and then, well, sometimes it just doesn't work. And sometimes it is a blast.

The thing is, and I guess it's to do with NZ's small gay male population, that I tend to use these apps for socialising more than anything. I can't think of the last time I actually picked a guy up with one.

How Clean Was My Valley...

2011-06-23T17:16:00.000-07:00

A friend put a post up on facebook asking where he could buy a douche while he and his partner were on holiday - they'd forgotten to pack one.

I thought some of the reactions were interesting, that it was "TMI" or "ewww...gross". Shit is shit, and not many of us like it, especially when you mix it in with sex. Don't forget though that all the human sex organs are also rubbish outlets, there's no need to get extra squeamish about the arse.

Not all gay men fuck or get fucked, but I guess for most of us, fucking is the defining sexual act. Sodomy. Taking or giving it up the arse. We're bum-bandits, and it's one of the things that straight men find so scary about us - that we can get fucked and enjoy it. It unmans us and is also intensely masculine.

It is an incredible amount of fun, it feels fantastic, it is deeply intimate and personal, and physically it's the closest we can get to another man, to be there, inside him or have him inside us.

And to make this all really good, a thorough cleaning out beforehand is a very good idea. I don't understand why guys get so "ewww" about it. A lot of us are happy to rim a nice clean arse, or get rimmed, but we seem to want to pretend that it's clean by magic. It aint. Gay men know much more about their arseholes than most straight men ever will, yet there seems to be this horror at the idea of talking about it all.

Maybe I'm biased due to experience. Once, a long time ago, I was fucking this guy who was bouncing up and down on top of me, it was the morning after a long night of fun, and then he went up and... it all came down. As we both looked on in horror, suddenly there was a voice in the corridor - his dad had dropped by for a Sunday morning visit. "Don't move, I'll get rid of him and be right back" he said as he threw a towel over me. I wasn't planning on going anywhere, trust me.

Of course, we laughed about it later, after he'd cleaned me up. But let's say it left a lasting impression.

So I think we should relax and feel more comfortable about the whole process. Douching is a good thing, something we should encourage. Young men might need to be taught about it, there is a certain skill that you only get with experience, judging when it's really all over, or when it's just the calm before the storm.

But a little warm water and care goes a long way to increasing the joy and intimacy of a good fuck. Like a good boy scout - Be Prepared.

If I Only Knew Then What I Know Now...

2011-05-31T21:03:00.000-07:00

I have never been all that confident about my looks - like a lot of gay men I guess. I tend to see the negatives, all the things I wish I could change or hadn't been born with. When I was younger I genuinely thought I was ugly - and now I feel sorry for that teenage boy who couldn't see how cute and hot he was, and wish I could sit down with me then and explain how wrong I was about how I saw myself.

I don't think I'm unusual in that. So many guys I know have their anxieties about how they look, whether it's physically or their clothes, and so many of us have worked hard to come to terms with our bodies and faces - learning that we won't be as perfect as the images in the magazines takes time - some of us never really learn and keep beating ourselves up over our failure to look like a cover model.

And I can think of men I know who are drop-dead handsome, fantastic bodies, and lovely personalities, but they still think they are ugly and undesirable. And for some guys I think their beauty becomes a cage - I know I look at some guys and think "Wow - he's so hot - but he'd never look at me so I won't even bother." Some of the most beautiful men I can think of around Auckland are single, and I think part of it is that others are afraid to approach and get to know them. But as they say "Beauty fades, dumb is forever", so maybe we should all learn to be a bit braver.
I can safely say that I've accepted I will never have a six-pack or be covered in muscles. Thank God I have a 10 inch cock or no-one would want me.

There is so much pressure on gay men to look right, to look good. And looking good means youth and muscles, neither of which I have much of today. I've tried going to the gym, and I will probably join up somewhere and try again in the next year, but I just get bored with it after a few months and stop going. I think I've been a member of 3 different gyms over the past 7 years, and each time I fade out after my initial enthusiastic start start in 3 - 6 months.

Part of my dislike of gyms comes from the horror of school PE and my constant failure there. I know other guys who had the same experience but got over it and love their gym now, but for me it still brings back a few nasty memories. And it's just so boring!

I've watched my body slowly spread into middle-age, with my waistline broadening, hair falling out, skin getting flabby and wrinkly, hearing weakening, all the usual stuff time and age brings. And while I don't look all that pretty, I'm not complaining too much.
So it was a real treat to find some old footage of me on youtube, at the tender age of 18. Damn but I was cute, but I had no idea - I was this total mess of insecurities and fear around how I looked. If only I'd known then what I know now...

So here it is - don't worry, I kick in at about 00:10 and am over pretty fast.

Did You Miss Me ?

2011-05-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged for a while - just been busy I guess.

I'm sitting here on a break from my PhD writing and once again thinking to myself "Why the fuck did I decide to write a PhD about HIV? Why?"

I ask the question because it takes up so much space in my life anyhow, so having to read and think and write about it as well in an academic way may not have been the best move for my sanity.

The answer is obivous of course. It matters. What HIV does to the men I count as my community matters - the stories that poz guys have so generously entrusted to me about their own experiences matter and deserve to be heard and to feed into our work on controlling the spread of it. They also simply deserve to be heard, and I hope I can help do that. This morning I was re-reading the interview I did with a young guy who died earlier this year.

We just had the annual Candlelight Memorial here in New Zealand - I used to go to them but I don't any more. I feel like I remember the dead on a daily basis, and a gathering like this doesn't do it for me any more. I don't wear a Red fribbon much these days either, unless I'm doing something "official", but I used to have one pinned to my coat all the time. I just don't need to be reminded of it all the time now - I don't want or need HIV to take up so much space in my life.

But it still does of course. every day I take my meds, morning and night, and I know if I stop, I die. It's that simple.

As soon as I read these words by Marguerite Yourcenar, from her work "The Memoirs of Hadrian", I fell in love with them, they moved me and spoke to me:

“To say that my days are numbered signifies nothing; they always were, and are so for us all…

Like a traveller sailing the Archipelago who sees the luminous mists lift towards evening, and little by little makes out the shore, I begin to discern the profile of my death”

That has been part of the mystery - we all die - but we pretend we won't. Trying to look at our own death is like trying to look into the sun - we can't do it - but as my friends died around me, and as I got sick, yes, I began to see the profile of my death.

When I look around my living room, I see some of my dead friends. Glenn Morris, who set up the old NZ Countrymen's Institute (a sauna) looks down at me from a work done by the artist Alan Brown. We were all friends - I met them when I was about 17 I guess, they would have been in their early 20s. They were both mentors of mine, like big gay brothers, who looked after me and showed me so much. I took my first acid trip with Alan. In fact, I think anyone who knew him would say life with Alan was like being on acid anyhow whether you were or not. he was just such fun, so naughty and mischevious.

Glenn and I flatted together in Herne Bay in the 80s, before it was "nice" - we called ourselves "The Empresses in Exile of Sodom and Gomorrah" and called the house "The Palace of the Red Queen". We had such great times there, and he really was such a wonderful man, loving, kind, gentle and wise. Glenn died in 1993, and Alan died, I think, in 2002, but I could be wrong on that. Even the dates of the important deaths start to blur in my mind.Alan made the portrait from a photo - people always notice it and ask if it's me.

Steven Lovett is another old friend, and a wonderful artist - one who is thankfully still here and HIV negative, but he did a beautiful work of a friend of ours from our youth, dear Tintin - we used to sneak into the loos at Alfies and get stoned. Tintin died of AIDS in 1989, I think.

Mike Creelman - when I first met him He was Alan's lover - God he was handsome. He died back in the mid-80s in SF. He was ex-NZ Air-Force, tall, muscly, and camp as a row of frilly pink tents at times. One thing I recall is how he cut my hair a few times, sweet intimate moments of fun and friendship. I used to fancy him so much, but never had the nerve to try and make a move.

I could go on. So many men I know who died from this. Men I'm sure who are loved and remembered by their families, often families I never met, because back in those days being gay often meant some form of exile from the rest of our world.

Thinking of them as I sit here writing does bring tears to my eyes, it makes me cry, sitting here in my office remembering them all, and then thinking of the millions around the world who have died of this terrible, disgusting plague. But I don't let myself cry too often. Probably not enough.

This disease will be the end of many of us, but not nearly all, and the dead will be commemorated and will struggle on with the living, and we are not going away. We won't die secret deaths anymore. The world only spins forward. We will be citizens. The time has come.
That comes from Tony Kuschner's Angels in America - watch it if you can.

It all makes me sad, but it makes me angry too. Angry at the ignorance and fear that still surrounds us so often; angry at the empty, pompous, ignorant pontificating of authorities who think they know better. Angry at the cruelty and sorrow that has been inflicted on so many of us, straight or gay, men women or children, here and everywhere on this planet. So many lives damaged and lost. So much pain. So much death.

So yes, writing my PhD is hard work, I try and pretend otherwise at times, but it's deeply personal, and it's confronting and exhausting. But I believe it's worth it - I hope it will be when I get there, though some days I want to walk away from it all.

So I don't go to Candlelight, I don't wear a Red Ribbon much, I don't feel the need. But I remember you, I miss you, and I love you. And I still don't understand why I have survived and you didn't, and fuck how I wish you were still here and now I'm crying again.

And these are some final words, not mine, not even about us, but to me they speak so eloquently and truly.

I have dreamed vividly of you – I have walked with, spoken to, loved your shadow so often, so much, that nothing else remains of you – nothing remains for me but to be a shadow among shadows, the shadow who will come and come again into your sun-drenched life. ~ Robert Desnos, engraved on the interior walls of the monument honouring those deported during the Nazi occupation of France

I Have a Confession to Make

2011-04-19T15:08:00.000-07:00

I bareback. A lot. Every time I fantasise I do it bareback. I never imagine condoms being used in my jerk-off fantasies, and have never met any guy who does.Condoms just don't feature in my ideal imaginary sexual scenarios. In my head I break all the safe-sex rules and don't worry about it and no campaign or sanctimonious finger-wagging is ever going to change that. And I don't know any guys who act differently.

How is this different from watching bareback porn? Well, it's fantasy, it's not real - no-one else can get infected through my fantasies, but part of the logic that condemns bareback porn is the claim that watching it undermines the safe-sex message and teaches guys it's ok not to use rubbers, but in fantasies that's just what I do, I watch and take part in wild hot fucking without condoms, yet I am still able to look after my sexual partners safely in real life.

And for some social and historical context for those who need it, let's remember that the new breed of bareback porn was invented by poz men for poz men, within our particular sub-culture in the wider gay world.

Let's be honest - Bareback porn is popular and watched because it's hot, because it comes closer to our fantasies. And this is a fact too - a lot of guys, HIV+ or HIV-, are able to manage their porn the same way I manage my fantasies - they can get turned on by one thing and know when to use condoms in other situations. Gay men do not need the patronising message that they cannot make safe and sane sexual decisions for themselves, but must be lectured to and treated like children; we stop listening, and that is just what should not happen.

I kicked off more than I intended with my comment that supporting bareback porn at Mr Leather "didn't sit well with me." Condemning and stigmatising men who like bareback porn was not my goal. I think I understand Mark's argument - I'm not sure I agree with it, especially in that setting where it has been so explicitly and officially made unwelcome.

Comparing them to people who drive their car through a shopping mall is singularly unhelpful, inaccurate and ignorant. Adding more stigma to an already stigmatised group is not going to make them respect you or listen to you.

But there are some good reasons to hold bareback porn up to scrutiny, instead of needlessly inflaming a moral panic.

Porn is an industry, and the actors in it are often exploited and put at huge risk of all sorts of sexual diseases, not just HIV. They are often pressured into having unsafe sex, and told they won't work if they refuse. Porn from some parts of the world is basically a form of slavery. There are in fact much clearer moral grounds to condemn the porn industry in its entireity rather than bareback porn between consenting HIV positive actors.

The gay porn industry is different from the straight one in some respects, but even there it's a dangerous place to work, as Mason Wyler found out. And even though he'd been making bareback porn, when it turned out he was positive he lost his work. Until he started working with actors who were alos poz. The argument about poz-poz unprotected sex is for another day.

This video gives a good example of the risks porn actors run, and why it is now a dangerous job to be in, especially if you're "gay for pay".

There is some strength to the argument that that watching bareback porn can lead to men imitating it and putting themselves at greater risk of infection. Monkey see, monkey do. But this has its limits - I didn't start making crystal meth after watching Breaking Bad. None of my mates have run off to join a bikie gang after watching Sons of Anarchy, although a few have shown serious lapses in dress sense since Desperate Housewives came to air. What we watch influences us, but only so far, and audiences today are accustomed to sifting reality from screen life.

New Zealand has been able to maintain a relatively strong condom culture, when guys hook up here we tend to go for the rubber, and we do not want that culture eroded and more men infected - we're not recruiting. Yet if we are honest we know it's not uncommon for sexually active gay men to make the choice at times not to use them. Encouragement and support rather than moralising and finger-pointing is a much better approach to take.

The thing is, I'm not a great fan of porn videos - I'm nerdy, I prefer to read my porn and make up the pictures in my head - I only keep a few films at homes to be hospitable to guests.

Thank You Melbourne

2011-04-11T19:21:00.000-07:00

Mark Stpehens from Adelaide, Mr Leather ANZ 2011

I have a new-found respect for the people who enter beauty paegents and body-building contests and that sort of thing.

It's fucking hard work! You really have to put yourself out there.

The contest is in Melbourne because it's really the heart of the leather scene in Australia now. Sydney doesn't even have a dedicated bar or venue for this group anymore.

My flight over was paid for me courtesy of the great guys at Urge, and I arrived, at 9pm on Thursday, Melbourne time (11pm for my body-clock) met by my friends Nick and Graeme who dropped me off at Joy FM, the gay community radio station, where I got to sit and wait (we did a lot of waiting...) till the charming, hot and irrepresible Dean Beck was ready for us on his late night show Hide and Seek, along with Mr Leather South Australia and Mr Sydney Leather. It was fun, but shit I was tired, and not up to my usual sparkling best.

Friday was the shift to the competition accommodation, who didn't have my name at the desk. And then put me in the wrong room. One of the many screw-ups that went on behind the scenes. The organisation of the event is done by volunteers, but please, some more attention to detail in future guys.

Yes, I'm going to bitch a little.

Leaving contestants sitting around with no food, not even some bottles of water, for hours, unsure of what they are supposed to be doing, no idea just what we're waiting for - that was the pattern. We all noticed it and were all justifiably pissed off. Making the contestants set up the hall, fold the programmes, put up tables, put out the chairs etc, well, ok, I didn't mind that so much - it helped keep boredom at bay while we waited...and waited...and waited...with no communication from the organisers as to what was happening. On Friday night after the first judging panel half of us got sent off to Sircuit Bar for a "Meet and Greet" but the bar had no idea who we were or that we were coming. We had to to pay for our drinks, there was no-one there for us to meet or greet, so we headed over to the Laird who knew who we were immediately and gave us drinks and made us feel right at home. Thank you guys, you were great.

Saturday wasn't much better on the organisational front. We did get some free public speaking training, but nothing I hadn't heard or done before. And again, we spent hours sitting around with nothing to do, wondering why we were there, and again, food and drink were absent till very late in the day. Pay next year's guys a bit more attention and get better organised please.

Now, the big event for the contest itself is the 2 minute speech in formal leather-wear (yes, we have formal leathers, I'll get to that) where we display our passion and committment, and we got extra training for that. I had a good speech, but for some reason kept freezing up in rehearsals. And they cut the microphone off at 2 minutes, so you have to time it just right or you look like a fool - I was getting scared I'd freeze when I had to be at my best, but it all came together when I needed it to though.
I am a lecturer, I'm a fairly experienced public speaker, used to talking in front of Prime Ministers, Governors-General, MPs, and big conference audiences - but this was probably the scariest gig I've done. Luckily the speeches were after the jockstrap section, I think that could have been just too difficult to carry off.

Speaking of clothes, my case weighed nearly 17kgs, so that was a few t-shirts, some undies, socks and about 15 kgs of leather. And I was seriously under-supplied with gear compared to the others.

So there was a Jockstrap section, that was after the Full Gear section and before the Formal Leather section.

Three changes of kit all told. For Full Gear most of us chose chaps, a jock, and a harness, gauntlets or gloves, and got interviewed on stage with some serious questions. The Jockstrap section was light-hearted and fun, and we had to dance down the red carpet for that, I splashed out on a new Nasty Pig jock for the event, and then came the Formal Wear. Leather pants, shirt - a lot of us in a Sam Browne, some in leather ties, biker caps, looking just like you'd expect a group of gay men into leather to look.

Cliches? Nah, raunchy sexy men having fun. The leather community is a real community - it's international, inclusive, edgy, and let's just say we know how to have a good time and I have to say the six of us all up there like that looked pretty damn fine.

Overall, it felt great to take part, it felt great to be in a crowd of men like this. It took me back to New York in the early 80s when I was there and the scene I knew then, when the Mineshaft was still open and like my second home.

After the results (where they forgot to give the winner his sash - details guys ! Come on!) we had to get our gear back to the hotel, then hit the Laird again for a party. It was fun to relax, I got some really great support from some Kiwis and locals there and saw some friends I hadn't seen in ages. Now you might think a night of wild partying and sex would follow, but we were all just too tired, even the winner. As the Laird closed down, we all just wanted to get back to the hotel and chill.

I didn't win, I didn't place, but I did have fun, met some great guys in the other contestants, and my goal was to have fun, so I'm happy.

Now, out of the six of us in the contest, I know that four including myself were HIV+, and one was on PEP (the "morning after" pill that you have to take for a month if you think you might have been exposed to HIV) because his condom came off at a fuck-club two nights before the contest. He was not enjoying the PEP, felt sick, had the runs, weird dreams - and it isn't a guaranteed fix anyhow - I hope he comes through it ok.

The fact, that so many of us in this group have HIV says something about the level and style of sexual activity in the leather world. As I said in my speech, we do things other guys are scared to fantasise about. We're serious about sexual fun and push boundaries, and we've lost a huge number of men to AIDS over the decades, a disproportionate number I'd argue.

So I was more than a bit surprised to hear the winner, Mark, a lovely guy, make a speech in support of bareback porn, and getting applause for it too. I thought we were in support of protecting our community, not encouraging members to take risks that lead to HIV. Perhaps it's an Australia/NZ difference, but it didn't sit well with me, and I don't think it will play well in Chicago at the International Mr Leather contest either.

All the complaints aside, I am really glad I did it - in spite of some slack organisation behind the scenes, it was fun. I met some great guys, made some new friends, and faced a new challenge.

Next time I want to judge!

First, Kill a Cow...

2011-04-05T15:13:00.000-07:00

So remember how last year I got cajoled into entering the Mr Urge Leather contest, and was Runner-Up? Well as I was leaving Wellington a few weeks ago after the excellent Outgames Human Rights Conference and Urge Black Party, I discovered that the lovely Jamie who'd won the title was unable to make the contest in Melbourne this weekend - so I am heading over the Tasman tomorrow to represent my country on the international stage.

Now, I won't be looking as good as the guy on the right, a photo that was taken in the 1950s, and that shows just how long leather has been part of the erotic world of gay men. I nicked the pic from a blog about gay leather history, and there is quite a bit of it.

Just why some of us have a thing for leather is hard to pin down. It's something I've moved in and out of over my life. It's kind of cool for me that this is in Melbourne, because it was there, way back in 1980 when I was just 18 or so, that I first got involved in this world.

And it is a world of its own really. There is something about the Leather Community that does make it a community - a strong sense of identity I guess. And you can find this group in just about any city around the world that has some sort of gay scene in it. It's not just about fucking, though that's a core part of it - and often adventurous, kinky, fetishy fucking - but not always. I've had some beautiful tender loving times with guys in leather as well as some hard-out (I won't go into details here) athletic kink.

Some people laugh and say it's just another form of drag. Yes and no. It's a deliberate choice and way of presenting yourself as hyper-masculine. Drag has an element of parody to it that the leather world doesn't, but they both play around with mainstream ideas of what it is to be a man - and that's fun - I like fucking up people's expectations. If you get it, you get it - it's one of those things.

Leather men were a key part of that big change in what it means to be gay that happened back in the 60s and 70s. Instead of everyone stereotyping homos as weak girly-boys, they presented an alternative, and the raw sexuality they embodied was disturbing to many, but they celebrated it. They were the backbone of the old 'Clone' style of that era, and carried a huge weight through the worst years of the plague. Probably most of the guys I knew from those days are gone now.

I'm nervous about it all I admit, but I'm also looking forward to it. It's going to be a challenge, it's going to be a bit stressful, but it's going to be fun as well.

Fingers crossed !

So What Do We Do About HIV?

2011-03-07T14:10:00.000-08:00

The latest figures on HIV infections in New Zealand are not good news, with over a hundred new cases in the gay/bi male world in 2009 and a higher level expected over the coming years. Now of course, most countries would love to see a number this low, along with the estimated total of only 1,800 people living with HIV in the entire country. If we include the dead, we're probably at around 3,000 since the start of AIDS in NZ.

While every new infection is a personal tragedy, we actually have a tiny epidemic compared to nearly any other Western nation, and that is a good thing.

It's tempting to point the finger and blame people or organisations, and while blame is counter-productive, there are legitimate questions that must be asked.

The NZ AIDS Foundation gets millions of dollars of government funding every year specifically to prevent the spread of HIV among gay men, and has an Executive Director now paid in the vicinity of $150k per annum to achieve that goal. It is fair to consider just how well they are doing.

Initially the logic behind NZAF was based on the assumption that an organisation that is run by gay men for gay men, that knows intimately how we live, how we love and how we fuck is best able to reach that group and contain the epidemic. As has been pointed out again and again, gay men are not going to listen to straight people telling us how to live our sex lives. The Ottawa Charter and its ethos of care by the community for the community was integral to NZAF. That has been NZAF's reason for existence rather than for example, relying on the Ministry of Health to run this. Family Planning have the job of dealing with HIV prevention in the straight world, and frankly, the Ministry of Health has been happy to have this all outsourced and turned into someone else's problem.

Remember - safe-sex is something that concerned gay men invented to deal with the crisis of AIDS, not bureaucrats in a Ministry or some party policy think-tank.

It is unfair and unreasonable to expect the NZAF to be the AIDS Police, to be responsible for every time some man has unsafe sex and gets infected or infects another. There are a lot of deeply dedicated people working there who will be unhappy at these figures. But it is fair and reasonable to ask if they are doing the job as well as they could and using their resources in the best way. I along with many others around the country have a strong sense that while the organisation has focussed on improving management and being more professional, all good things, it has lost respect in core communities, and it is far less engaged with the communities of men it needs to reach, and has less intuitive knowledge of the world of gay men and how we fuck. For example it has no visible HIV Positive staff or Board members. NZAF's strategy comes from the top, from the direction of the Board, and they need to ask themselves just what benefit all their meetings and reports have provided in stemming the increase in infections.

People often criticise the NZAF campaigns, but offer no alternatives, or suggest ones we know don't work. Trying to scare people into safe-sex is ineffective, it's been proved time and again that it doesn't work. And as someone living with HIV I get really pissed off with people who suggest campaigns associating us with illness and death. I am not Death walking among you. Having sex with someone who has HIV doesn't mean you will get it. Having unsafe sex with any man means you have the chance of getting it. HIV Positive people are not the problem. Fucking without condoms is the problem.

The NZAF is not to blame, I'd argue that infections would be even higher without it, but it does need to seriously consider what it is doing and ensure it is relevant to the groups it is funded to work among again.

It is unfair and unreasonable to blame the owners of sex-on-site venues: they can not be held responsible for what men do on their premises, and there is no point in shutting them down - men will simply go elsewhere to fuck: no-one would suggest shutting down the internet because so many men meet up there. But do they all do as much as they could to discourage unsafe sex? They take our money, but do they do the best they can to make their businesses conducive to safe-sex?

And how does anyone or any organisation effectively reach into the vast online world of man-on-man fucking and effectively promote condom use? This is where most guys are hooking up now, and it is an incredibly hard place to run a public health intervention.

The initial response to the AIDS crisis was so strong and powerful because it affected so many of us so terribly. It was personal. Our friends and lovers were dying, and no-one cared. Many seemed to think we deserved it, and we got together and fought back. We were criminals. We fought for our rights and made big gains while dealing with a huge communal tragedy of sickness and death. This dual struggle, fighting AIDS and the panic and disgust and prejudice it carried, and fighting for our rights to be accepted as full citizens helped bind together a pretty diverse group of people and push them into action.

There is little to bind together that diverse group of men today, and that makes it harder to keep the safe-sex message clear and relevant to everyone.

Remember, some of the very first safe-sex materials imported into NZ were seized by Customs and labelled pornographic, and at that time it was still illegal for two men to fuck.

Our world today is very different. Society has changed immensely - it's a different world and a lot of gay and bi men have no connection to that past, no understanding of what happened or why. For them, it's not personal. We are constantly told HIV is a chronic manageable condition, like diabetes. And that's true, for most people who get it, not for all though. Hearing this message, and no longer seeing men around us at death's door has an effect. I remember a few years ago how chilled I felt when an 18 year-old boy said to me "I dont see the problem, you've had HIV for years and you're fine."

It seems that very few guys who get infected are ignorant of the risks they ran or what they needed to do to prevent getting the virus. Maintaining long-term behavioural change in a marginalised and messy group of communities like ours is not easy, but it doesn't mean we don't try for it. We should do all we can to encourage everyone to keep practicing safe sex, and give our real and sincere support to those who become infected, not blame them.

The biology of HIV is the same, the way it is passed on is the same, and the ways it can be contained are the same. Condoms work. We know they work. We know how to use them. But sometimes for all sorts of reasons we don't use them.

Perhaps we need to accept that, just like diabetes, just like prostate cancer, just like meningitis, HIV is here to stay and we will always have some new infections every year. Perhaps the debate now should be just what is a reasonable number to expect every year, and what number should ring alarm bells.

Big Gay Out? Yes. Mardi Gras...maybe

2011-02-13T14:23:00.000-08:00

Yesterday marked the 2nd anniversary of this blog - I know because I wrote the first one right after the Big Gay Out two years ago. That's a lot of writing since then. Aren't you lucky ?

As for the Big Gay Out yesterday - it was fantastic. It's such a lovely way to spend an afternoon, hanging out with all sorts of people from the queer communities. It is great to see thousands and thousands of us in one spot. As it's a summer's afternoon, it's always pretty chilled, people just cruising away, gay mums and dads with their kids, people catching up with friends, having a few beers, others moving downwind from the Police when necessary. Thank you to the friends' picnic I crashed - you're great guys, nice Pinot Gris, and i loved the salami. To make up I drove them home and they drank all my beer on my back porch as the sun went down.

The BGO is the last relic of Hero, and it really holds to some of the original Hero feeling and messages. Ideas like being proud of being queer, not needing to apologise or hide, and of being a community, no matter how loosely knit that collection of communities is today. An event like BGO shows that however weak some of the links are, we are still connected.

And that explains the swarm of locusts in the shape of politicians who descend on us now each year. Is that unfair? Perhaps a little - some have a long track-record of supporting us. It was great to see openly gay Green MP Kevin Hague there. He has been a solid and constructive force in making the lives of queer people and those with HIV better for decades. Seeing Grant Robertson and Maryann Street out with the Labour leaders is good too. Others are just opportunists out to make us think they like us and grab our votes.

The Prime Minister fits into the second category. It's slightly nauseating watching the way so many homos fawn over him.

Remember: He did not support the Civil Unions Legislation. He doesn't support same-sex couples being able to adopt children. So he is nice and smiley around us, he's very good at how he presents himself, but he still sees us as not deserving of the full rights of other New Zealand citizens. In John Key's eyes we are not worthy to be parents, and our relationships are not of equal value to heterosexual ones. There is no other way to read his actions.

Yet our Uncle Toms fall over themselves to be seen with him and get their photo taken. Power is in itself an attractive thing I guess. But this man has not been our friend. Look at National - I think it's the last party to have closeted MPs sitting in it. Think of how self-hating you must be to live half a life, stuck in the closet because you think being open about being a homo would ruin your political career. But that's the National Party for you.

Then there is all the talk of a new Auckland "Mardi Gras", spilling from, the lips of Auckland Central National MP Nikki Kaye. She's a nice woman, what I've seen of her I like. She's on the more liberal end of the Nationals too, but I don't see any real support or understanding of gay issues from her, even though there are a lot of us in her electorate.

Her first comments about a Mardi Gras were about how much money it could bring into the city - then after dissenting voices arose she hastily followed up by vague murmuring about "community". Hero, when it worked, had deep roots into all sorts of areas in gay Auckland, it had community buy-in on a big scale. As it weakened it came to rely more and more on corporate sponsorship, on being more business-like and less of a community event, and it failed, got boring, and imploded.

Perhaps all this talk will bring us some sort new bigger gay festival, I like the idea. But if it's not based in our world, if it's not based in our extraordinarily rich, messy and varied networks of community, it will fail.

But yesterday showed what we can do, who we are and why it matters to be out and proud and seen. If someone can tap into that sort of spirit, then I'll be a supporter. If it's some sanitised corporate affair, forget it.

Problems Need Solutions

2011-01-25T15:21:00.000-08:00

It's twenty years since the first Hero Party and the foundation of a deliberate attempt to strengthen the gay community and help us look after ourselves in the face of AIDS. Hero did a huge amount of good, it gave gay Auckland a face, inspired similar groups in Wellington and Christchurch, and it gave us an organisation that could act as a public voice for us, until it collapsed in a mire of corruption and broken trust.

Yes, I'm still bitter about the money from the street collection, collected for people living with HIV, that a certain group of Hero trustees "borrowed" to cover a shortfall and never returned. Yes I'm bitter about the CEO who embezzled funds then escaped back to Australia.

But before that sad side of the story, there was a huge amount of good that came out of Hero.It made us visible, it gave us a reason to take pride in being queer. Visibility matters, and so does pride. Hero when at its best and strongest was inspirational. I doubt we can recreate it, not sure we should even try, times have changed. But its underlying message is still right on the money. We need to take pride in ourselves, we need to find ways to pass down to new generations the experience and wisdom we have gained, and yes, we still need to explain that being gay is perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

Today we have nothing like it. We have no organisation that can give us a sense of pride. We have no organisation that is linked into the gay communities in Auckland or nationally. We have no voice. Some people argue we don't need one, that everything is just fine, and could we please stop making a fuss.

They're wrong.

The recent nasty, vicious anti-gay attacks here in New Zealand over the last few weeks have been disgusting and cowardly, as bullying so often is. Homophobia is real and nasty, and it needs to be opposed.

Heterosexual kids don't complain of being bullied for being straight, and then try and kill themselves. Ignorant, nasty vandals don't scrawl "Filthy straights" on heterosexual business-owners' property and break their windows. Straight people don't feel a need to describe themselves as "gay-acting". Straight people don't have terrible suicide and drug abuse rates for being straight.

Michaelangelo Signorile puts it like this: "Queerness will always be marginalised and will always need its own movement because it goes against the larger heterosexual system."

We are a marginal community that has been granted a degree of tolerance by wider society.We will always be marginal. But today we have no voice, and I believe we need one. There are some wonderful, smart queer MPs but they are largely concerned with their own party issues.

It's great to see some level of community response coming through for the two women who were attacked, wonderful that GABA and Urge are doing something positive. Outline is working towards growing itself into something more than a counselling service, and there is potential there for something good to happen. Other people around the country have been talking about the need for something, some group or network, that can respond and speak with a credible voice on our behalf. If something new does arise it will have to show it has a good level of community connection to be taken seriously, but that's not impossible to achieve. And as someone remarked, the Sensible Sentencing Trust is basically Garth McVicar and a fax machine - one dedicated person can make a lot of difference.

When shitty things like these attacks happen, we need someone the media can go to for informed and intelligent comment. We need an organisation that is focussed on the needs of the queer communities that exist here. We have no leadership today, no one who can speak for us, either in Auckland with the biggest queer population, or nationally.

One thing that give me some comfort is the cyclical nature of gay history. In the 1960s we see the birth of Gay Liberation politics, and then watch it slowly fade into commercial complacency of the disco years over the 70s and early 80s. Then AIDS, however tragically, provided the push for a different sort of politics, and had the effect of pulling us together. Perhaps now, twenty years on from the birth of Hero, we will see some other movement, some other way of uniting us and fighting back against our enemies.

Without a sense of community and pride, we will continue to see more and more gay men contract HIV, we will continue to see queers attacked simply for being who we are, we will continue to see our youth harming themselves. We need to act, we need to unite, we need to do something about it.

How I Lost my Virginity ( for the Second Time)

2011-01-18T14:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I hear newly diagnosed HIV+ guys say they'll never have sex again. They feel dirty. They fear passing the virus on to another, which is pretty understandable. They feel undesirable, unsexy, also pretty understandable as a reaction. But it doesn't have to be that way. I didn't have sex with another man for more than three years in the 90s. I barely even masturbated. Sex just seemed irrelevent at best, a terrible disease and death-ridden thing at worst. Over three years without sex - I did feel like a virgin again.

Some good friends helped me through that phase in the best possible way.

They had supported me in the mid-90s when I was so sick and we all thought I was dying, and they were there as I was recovering, helping me get back on my feet and into life again.

When I was sick I'd totally lost interest in sex, and as I was recovering, I was stuck in a head-space where I saw myself as polluted, dirty, unsexy, and unloveable. They saw this on some level, and decided it was time to ease me back into the gay mainstream, step by step.

There was a private gay sex-club called "Volt" running in Auckland in those days, and they took me there one night.

I was a bit excited about going out, especially to somewhere like this, but apprehensive as well. I'd spent an awful lot of time in sex-clubs in the old days. The Mineshaft in NY was still open when I lived there, and I was a regular. I've always liked them, the way they operate, and the men you can meet in them.

But at this stage of my life I was still feeling fragile, and as I said, definitely not feeling sexy. I had a negative little voice in my head telling me I should never have sex again, that it was wrong - and that's something I hear a lot from guys with HIV.

I was lucky - I was bending over the pool table to take a shot, when I felt a hand run over my arse. It was totally unexpected, and one of the most sensual and exciting feelings I've ever had. I couldn't believe that some man thought I was hot, that a guy would touch me that way again. I turned around and saw a tall, handsome, very sexy man grinning at me.

Of course, we started talking. One of the first things I did was explain my situation, being poz and everything. This tall, handsome and sexy stranger turned out to be a nurse who'd worked in the UK with people with AIDS. He was completely unworried and totally calm about the prospect of us getting naked and having fun. Like I said, I was lucky - I couldn't have met a better man to end my celibacy with and make me feel good about being a sexual being again.

I took him home, a little nervous about it all, but we had a fantastic night of mind-blowing sex and talk and fun. It was just wonderful for me to realise that even though I have this virus in my blood, I didn't have to give up on the joy and pleasure of sex and physical affection. It felt amazing that a handsome man would actually find me attractive and desire me. It felt so good to be desired again - I can't tell you how good that felt. I can't tell you how grateful I still am for the wonderful way he took me out of that dark, unhappy space where I only saw myself as a walking disease, a bringer of death, and was able to see myself as a full human-being again, capable of connecting physically and emotionally with other men. And for me, that's what being gay is all about - the fact I want my primary emotional and physical connections to be with men.

We didn't become lovers, and he's left Auckland now, but I always feel like I owe him, and the friends who insisted I come out of my shell, a huge debt.

They helped me bring joy back into my life, and that's something a lot of poz guys lose. I've been lucky.

I've Been Thinking...

2011-01-12T14:06:00.000-08:00

I've been re-reading Patrick Moore's book "Beyond Shame: Reclaiming the History of Radical Gay Sexuality". I really like it.

He looks at that great flowering of the new gay culture that was taking place in the late 60s- 80s, before AIDS struck, and considers what gay life would be like today if this hadn't happened. At the back of the book is a list of over 1000 names of artists and similar creative types, held by The Estate Project for Artists with AIDS who died - imagine the cultural impact they would have continued to have without this plague.

It is very much an American take on the situation, but America was in the vanguard of both Gay Liberation in the 60s and 70s, and then the fight to deal with AIDS, so that's not unexpected, and there are parallells to be drawn.

What I like is the way he shows the culture that was being developed - and it was a new and radical and at times chaotic and self-indulgent one - but it was a culture, a varied and international one. It was our culture, and one that influenced how we did "being gay" here in NZ as well. It was messy, but it was vital and alive.

Is there still such a thing as "Gay Culture", separate from the mainstream, or are we being pulled into conformity with the wider world, expected to settle and marry and be just like everyone else? Surely for that to work, society needs to accept us as much as it does everyone else?

Even in NZ, homophobia is still very real - witness recent reports of verbal abuse for guys walking hand-in-hand down Ponsonby Rd, somewhere I and others in this town would consider a safe space to be openly gay in. The fact we need to consider if we are in a safe space to be ourselves shows that even though things are better, even though we are legal, we still live in a society that would basically like us to shut up seeing it's clear we won't go away.

Gay men, lesbians, trans - all of us queers, have the right to be ourselves wherever we are. We shouldn't have to stop and think "Is it ok for me to hold my lover's hand here?" It should be as easy and natural for us as it is for straight couples. We have no need to apologise for who and what we are. We have nothing to be ashamed of.

To think "Don't rock the boat, try and fit in, we're just ordinary people really" is just buying into wider patterns of societal homophobia.

Guys who call themselves "straight-acting" are buying into it as well. Face it guys: There's nothing straight-acting about having another man's cock in your mouth, hands or arse, or yours in his, no matter if you drive a V8, play rugby and are more bogan than a tow-truck driver.

We live in a society that at best tolerates us - at worst it persecutes us. Look at the shocking rates of drug and alcahol abuse we have, the high rates of mental health problems and our terrible suicide rates. These are not the signs of a community or communities that are solidly integrated into a welcoming society.The small gains we have made are great, but they don't address the wider problem of homophobia. It is still acceptable to be openly anti-gay in a way that no-one would dare do about Jews, Catholics or Maori today.

The fact that HIV in NZ is still overwhelmingly passed along in the gay world, from man to man, also reflects this. Why don't we care enough about ourselves to take care of ourselves? Why do so many gay men hold themselves in such low value that they will risk their health and life in what they know is an unsafe sexual act? Why don't we love ourselves enough to look after ourselves and each other better? Why don't we have the social ease and support that helps us here? Why aren't we as a group doing more to combat this?Why don't we have institutions that can effectively engage with the gay world and deal with this?

I do think part of it lies in the effects of AIDS. I compare it to WW1: It took out a huge section of a whole generation of gay men, and often it seemed when watching, it took the best and the brightest. That generation of men would be in the 40s-50s now, and at the peak of their careers and social and cultural power. We've lost a lot. And younger gay men are largely ignorant of the work and effort it took to get us this far - we haven't been effective at connecting with them beyond a superficial level, we lost the newly emerging culture that could have been such a strong force in making our world better and stronger as we lost so many of those men who were helping create it.

The current model for being a gay man demands that you pretend everything is fine now that we have had Law Reform and can get our relationships legally recognised. Indeed, a lot of guys probably think everything is fine - it is for them, their parents welcome their partner home, everyone at work knows they are gay - what's the big deal? But everything isn't fine. Gay men are still attacked, insulted, reviled and persecuted, just for being gay.

If you can't walk down the street safely while holding your lover's hand, it means you're not accepted - you're not equal - you're not welcome, no matter how you try and dress it up.

There is a lot of effort put into making New Zealand life bi-cultural with regard to Maori, and deservedly so. But when it comes to the gay world, there is no expectation that people dealing with us also be bi-cultural in a gay sense. We do have a culture - we do live differently and face different problems from the straight world, and we do things differently.

Today in New Zealand we have no voice of gay leadership, and we have a greatly diminished sense of gay culture. The bars and clubs provide the main social spaces, and good on them for giving us that at least, but they can't give us everything that we need to build a strong, happy and empowered community.

That has to come from us, we have to learn to love ourselves and each other, we have to take care of each other, we have to recognise that we have more in common that just a taste for cock and arse. We have nothing to be ashamed of and we don't need to apologise or compromise who we are. We should be proud of being gay - it's a gift - celebrate it.

Please Feed the Bears

2011-01-05T15:49:00.000-08:00

Bears. Cubs. Otters. Admirers. Cuddly. Furry. Fun. Love 'em, hate 'em, we're here.

I guess I'm a bear. I'm hairy (not so much on top these days...) got a little gut going on. But it's a hard group to pin down and define. Often it seems like we're defined by what we're not. We're not all young, we're not trying to be pretty, we're not 'smooth' (hairless) we're not obsessed with flash clothes. But even that doesn't quite get it right, because I know young bears, I know smooth bears, I know gay guys who hang out in the bear world because they don't feel like they fit in elsewhere.

I think one of the things I like about the gay bear world is that it is inclusive. You don't have to be hairy, you don't have to be big, you don't have to be a certain age, you don't have to be anything really; just a man who is into men. And isn't the essence of being gay? Loving and desiring men?

In many ways it's a continuation of the clone culture of the 70s and early 80s. The clones were really the first group of modern gay men to make a new identity, to be proudly masculine and open about loving and fucking other guys, a reaction against the older queen stereotype that was common then. But the clone became a stereotype of its own, just like the bears have to some extent I guess. If you're too young to understand what a clone is, watch Al Pacino in "Cruising". New York gay life pre-AIDS. Clones got flack in their time, but I think they also deserve praise - they were sexual radicals, guerillas who didn't give a fuck about the mainstream. And of course, so many died, and so many others got burnt out looking after the sick.

It has really exploded as an identity in gaydom over the last decade or so, so it's popular - obviously there is something in it that a lot of guys really like. There are bear parties everywhere these days, from Iceland to Istanbul, from Auckland to Amsterdam. It's become a commodity in some ways, an identity turned into a product, but, and perhaps I'm biased, it still doesn't feel like it's sold out to me. There is now even Bearbook - like facebook but for bears.Updates and photos tend to be way more sexually graphic than fb though.

We have a Bear Week here in February now. The first one last year was huge fun. I hear that there are going to be quite a few guys coming from overseas just for this. that's pretty amazing, that having a week of fun dedicated to this group can pull in international gay tourists.And no, this doesn't count as advertising cause they've already sold out of some stuff - I'm just thinking about it what it means.

You do see a lot more facial and body hair in a bear crowd. I read that as an enjoyment of being physically masculine. You won't smell much cologne at a bear event, or see a lot in the way of designer clothes, so there's a feeling around it of earthiness, or that's what seems to be aimed for. I like that I'm not going to get sneered at for having a hairy back and shoulders in a bear crowd, I like that I can be myself. There is something I find relaxing about the bear world. I just find it an easy place to be, an easy group of guys to hang out with.

There is an acceptance of getting older, of our bodies changing, and not that urgent need to stay young and pretty that some other parts of the gay world go for. I think as a group we're more sexually sophisticated as well - yeah, that's code for "We're kinkier than most" or at least, even if not into kink yourself, we aren't shocked by whatever it is you like to get up to, and we're usually relaxed about seeing it in public too.

Bears are friendly, but we like to push the boundaries a bit - there's a streak of non-conformism there, and I hope that stays, because our own non-conformism breeds tolerance to others. As being a bear becomes more mainstream, and more of a group that advertisers and other commercial groups aim for, there is a chance it'll lose that, but let's hope not.

Come and play - we're friendly.

So Hot, So Funny

2010-12-11T13:03:00.000-08:00

Sigh...

2010-12-09T20:54:00.000-08:00

One of the downers for me about life with HIV is when I meet someone, and they don't know I have the virus. I sort of assume that guys in the scene here know about me, but of course not everyone does. I don't automatically tell every guy I fuck with - I don't have to, I just make sure they know we're going to be having safe sex. If they ask, then I tell.

If it's just a casual one-off, then I don't care so much.

But sometimes I meet a guy online, we fuck, we have a great time, discover we have stuff to talk about, want to see each other again, and then I have to decide "When do I tell him - and how is he going to react?"

Because even for me, telling people about having HIV is still not that easy, even with my years of practice. If I tell people before we get to know each other, they might run before they ever get to know me. If I wait till later, then they can feel like I've been hiding it, and I don't like being thought of that way - I see myself as honest and living with integrity, but some guys react very strangely to it and act like touching me is going to give it to them - and really, I'm over doing HIV 101 education . Some guys are great, informed, sensible, very calm, not scared, just go "Oh yeah, my ex had it too, do you know him?" or stuff like that.

The thing is there is no perfect time, there never will be. But it's a situation I find myself in 2 or 3 times a year, and I still hate it. It brings up all that shit about rejection, about being "unclean" and of course, HIV always brings up the idea of death. Not fun to be associated with.

It shouldn't make a difference, but it does.

And They Did it Again! Yay!

2010-12-07T14:19:00.000-08:00

Scene/Non-Scene

2010-12-07T14:04:00.000-08:00

When I look through hook-up sites (sorry "dating" sites) I notice a lot of ads where guys say they are "non-scene". Isn't gay life online the biggest scene there is now? But I digress...And I say with comfort that I am definitely "scene" - not "non-scene".

If we think of it as all the clubs, saunas, bars and fuck-venues, you get a good idea of the scene. It's pretty universal, you can walk into a gay bar or sauna in Auckland, NY, Melbourne, or Paris and see pretty much the same thing. The scene gives us a space where we know the rules, can be sure we're hanging out with others of the same persuasion, and should feel safe. And you might even meet Mr Right. you do need to have a certain number of people to make it work though.

In the bad old days, the scene was all there was. There were really no other social spaces to go and meet other gay guys, unless you count the beats and the bogs (Public Toilets). So the scene was central to gay life - don't forget, the Stonewall riots started in a gay bar, not somewhere "non-scene".

The gay scene sits there at the heart of much of gay city life. It offers social space, it offers friendship, it offers sex, and it holds the possibility of love. There's also a strong sexual element to it - sometimes I think of it as sort of big humming sexual/social dynamo at the heart of the gay world - it's on all the time, and you can dip in or out of it as much as you like. And whatever your feelings about it, it is often the public face of homo life.

But it can also be a brutal, shallow and vapid place. If you don't fit in, if you don't have the right look, the right body, if you're not the right age, you can feel invisible, marginalised and unwelcome, so it's not surprising that some guys find it holds nothing for them.

Me, I have a love/hate relationship with it. On the one hand, I grew up in it. The scene around the world has provided me with great networks, friends, and fun. I am happy with a drink in my hand and people to talk with, flirt with, and who knows what else with. Sometimes I look around though and think "Why on earth am I here?"

But I'm nearly 50. I don't have a great gym body. I have grey hair in my beard and not much hair left on my head, so I know there are some spaces on the scene where I simply become invisible. But luckily the scene in Auckland caters for people like me too (thank you Urge!) - the men who go there are the most welcoming and least judgemental in town I reckon - and you don't have to be a bear to feel at home there.

I still enjoy getting out on the scene and having fun. You do get to meet all sorts of people from all over the world and all walks of life. It is one of the unifying things of gay life.

So why the desire to identify as "non-scene" ? Like I said, for some it's just not their thing. But there is also a group of guys who really aren't that comfortable with being gay and even though they love men, they don't want to be identified publically that way. Some guys use "non-scene" as a smug label of virtue, which I really don't think holds up.Especially when they say it online - I mean really guys - those sites are now the biggest part of the scene there is - but the trouble is they don't give that sense of community that going to a bar or club regularly can do. The online scene can be even harsher than the physical one.

The scene is pretty much what you make it - I have a life off the scene but I'm glad I've got access to places to hang out with mates, dance, go out and have fun and maybe get laid. I've made deep friendships through it, met lovers and fuck-buddies.Michael Stevens - "Scene".

World AIDS Day Thoughts

2010-11-23T14:09:00.000-08:00

So World AIDS Day is coming up again, and we'll get a little flurry of articles and some notice in the mainstream media: Not much, but some. In the latest UNAIDS Report there is a bit of good news: the global infection rate has begun to fall - a little - and let's wait a few years to see how solid this trend is - but it's good news.

New Zealand barely rates a mention: we get bundled into Oceania. We have one of the lowest infection rates anywhere, and as they note, as is typical in a high-income country, the majority of our new infections still involve men having sex with men, and most of those are men who report getting infected here in NZ.

We are a small country, with a small population, and what is by most countries' standards a tiny population of HIV+ people. Even when you include those who have died we have only had about 3,000 people infected - and roughly have 2,000 living with it now.

We don't get a hell of a lot of attention from the government, which also reflects the tiny HIV+ population I guess. The recent much-anticipated Miller Report basically said everyone working in the field is doing a good job but they need more money. Well, that's no surprise. Fat chance we'll see any extra cash though. And I'm a bit disappointed it didn't take a more critical view of some aspects, I have to say.

I'm one of those men who got infected with it overseas - probably in the USA when I fucked my way from San Francisco to New York in 1984. Hey, I was 23 and out for a good time. One of the first pieces of safe sex advice I got in NY was to give anyone I wanted to go home with a hug, and try and slip my hands in his armpits to see if his glands were up, and if they were, to make my excuses. No condoms and lube on the bars in those days.

It's hard to remember just how bad it was back then, the level of fear and hysteria that surrounded it all was intense. There was a lot of bigotry, a lot of ignorance, a lot of nastiness. Generally things are better than back then, but you still find the bigotry and ignorance - even in the gay community.

But for most HIV+ people - and I stress the "most", I know there are exceptions - life today is far better than anything we could have hoped for. Most HIV+ people in NZ are doing ok. Some are doing excellently. But some never really recover from the shock of their diagnosis. Some simply can't tolerate the side-effects of the medications.

I look at my own life with HIV, and see how much of an impact it has had. I've been working on my CV, and there is this big gap, from 1994, just when I was moving into a good place career wise, getting into management, and 2003, when I next have real work. I was simply too sick and weak through that time to work. It hasn't done my job prospects much good.

And like many guys who have had it for a long time, I still have that sense that it is all going to come tumbling down around me. I find personal long-term planning difficult, and at times I still can't quite believe that I have a future, that I'm not an invalid, that I won't be back in hospital in a few weeks. It's weird, because I actually do have a very good life, I feel loved and cared for, I have wonderful friends, I do pretty much what I want, though I'd like more financial security - but who wouldn't?

So my feelings are mixed around World AIDS Day. It's good we get a little attention. Basically, in NZ, if you have HIV you can do pretty well: you will get access to good medication, if you're near a big city you'll get excellent medical care.

But having HIV still sucks. Keep yourselves safe, don't get it. It is really not something you want in your life.

Who's to Blame?

2010-11-09T14:06:00.000-08:00

I saw this piece in Poz saying that 65% of US gay men think anyone HIV+ who barebacks (has unsafe sex in other words) without disclosing their status should face criminal prosecution. In other words, if two or more guys decide to go without condoms, and one is Positive and hasn't told the other(s), he has committed a criminal act.

Now in NZ, if you know you're Poz, you don't have to disclose your HIV status to sexual partners, so long as you take every reasonable precaution to protect them. That means use condoms. But we should all use condoms.

I'm just a little bit torn on this. On the one hand, yeah, if you know you have HIV, (and remember, about 30% of HIV + people DON'T know they have it ) you do, I believe, have a greater moral responsibility to protect the people you have sex with. So, in the first place, if you're poz you shouldn't be barebacking anyhow, unless maybe it's with someone else who is poz too, but even then, it's not recommended. And most HIV+ guys are very careful and concerned about protecting their partners.

But it takes two to tango, and if you believe you are HIV Neg, what the hell are you doing having unsafe sex anyhow? It's not all our fault or responsibility. HIV Neg guys have a duty to look after themselves - if you take the risk and get infected, I think you have to accept some of the responsibility here. It's as if they think they should be able to fuck without rubbers because they are HIV Neg, like it's some sort of a right, and HIV+ guys should exclude themselves from the sexual scene.

And here's the trouble with this approach. It breaks our world in two. There are those of us on the one side who know we have the virus, and we are supposed to act in one way, according to this logic, and those on the other side, who are allowed to act in another. This weakens the whole idea of safe-sex, that it's not just about protecting yourself, it's about protecting the community, and not picking on people with HIV to carry the whole burden. The original safe sex message was for everyone to use condoms, HIV+, HIV Neg, no matter what your status. That way everyone can have fun, and people with the virus aren't singled out. I still think it's the best approach.

Turning one part of the population into criminals for doing what the others do just leads to stigma and injustice.

But what about when someone knows you are HIV+ and has unsafe sex with you anyhow? That's happened to me, I've been fucking with guys who know I have HIV and then realised that he's no longer wearing a rubber. It pisses me off when that happens, immensely. But it has happened, and more than once. Usually they justify it with things like "Your viral load is low and I've read..." or "You look so well..." . It feels like a violation to me.

Am I too blame if he gets infected? And how would we prove it any how?

If someone knowingly sets out to infect others, lies about it, and persuades them into unsafe sex, that's a different story, and thankfully it's a very rare story too. But even then I think that if you are HIV Neg and take that risk, no matter how charming and persuasive he is, you have to take some level of responsibility.

The simplest and best answer: Use a condom.

It Gets Better - Even With HIV

2010-11-03T19:50:00.000-07:00

I have really loved the whole It Gets Better project - I think it's so important to reach young gay/queer people and let them know that in fact the terrible shit we often have to deal with as teens doesn't last and life can in fact be pretty damn good even if you don't fit the normal patterns.

Some people have criticised it for being too simplistic, for not acknowledging the crap and bullying that can happen all through our lives, or for being too white and middle-class, and while I get that point, I think it ignores the fact that for most of us life does get better.

I've wondered if there would be any point to doing something similar but about living with HIV. Because, as shitty as it is to have this virus in us - and it is - it does get better over time. And again, there are exceptions to be kept in mind - it's not a bed of roses, but it's not as bad as it was in the old days.

Now I don't know how I'd cope if I were living in a small town and had HIV. I imagine it would be very lonely and difficult without good friends and other HIV+ people to share stuff with. Having a network of HIV+ mates and knowing how to use the services around, and just being in a gay community that is supportive of me and looks past my HIV makes a massive difference. I know I'm lucky. And some poz people have very limited choices about where they can live for all sorts of reasons, so they can't just up sticks and move to a bigger city with better access to support. I'd love to see something effective done to give those poz people better support somehow.

There is something lacking in support for HIV+ people in NZ, and to be frank none of the groups or organisations around are doing that good a job at meeting those needs right now, with the exception of Positive Women, and even they have their critics.

But, after that initial shock of diagnosis, which can often take a couple of years to get over, or for some even longer, life with HIV does get better for most of us. You can travel. You can work. You can have a sex life.You can fall in love. You can lead a good life. Maybe it won't be the life you would have had without HIV, but you can still have a very good life.

It's important to hold onto hope, especially in the bad times. When I was diagnosed in 1988 I was told I had about 2 years to live - but I'm still alive, working, loving, playing, and enjoying my life mostly. I've had times of being incredibly sick, and for a long time I never imagined that it could or would get better - but it has.

Hold on through the bad times, ask for help and support. It does get better.

Still Standing

2010-10-18T14:06:00.000-07:00

Hmm, haven't been here for a while have I ? Life has been busy - and I'm not complaining about that, well, just a little.

But the big news I turn 49 tomorrow. It's big news for me anyhow. In 1988 I was told by a Dr in London that I probably had 2 years to live, so I'm glad I'm still here. I've been so lucky compared to so many.

I was talking the other day with a family friend, a woman in her late 70s, who buried her son in the early 90s, before HAART came out, he died about the time I was told I'd die in fact. I always enjoy seeing her, she's a lovely woman, and she always asks me how I am.

We were talking about her son's situation compared to mine, and agreed it was nothing more than luck. I was able to just hold on long enough until the new meds came through in 1996. I was already very ill by then, and without them I would have followed him to the grave by now I'm utterly certain.

I don't believe in destiny or fate. I don't believe I'm alive because I've had the right positive thoughts about myself. I know I'm not alive due to the "alternative" medicine I tried in the early 90s.

I am alive because I was probably infected a little bit later, and my body was able to keep going till Western Medicine came up with effective medications.

I often say (jokingly) that I want drugs tested on puppies by scientists in white coats - but it's only half a joke. I actually DO want effective medication, I've seen the benefits. I don't want some crystal-waving herbal hippy shit, or loopy pseudo-scientific rubbish like ozone-bagging. It doesn't work.I'd be dead without Western science, so I'm a big fan.

So many wonderful men I knew weren't as lucky as me. So many men I danced with, fucked with, fought with, laughed with, dreamed with - dead and gone, often in their 20s or early 30s.

When things get me down, and they do just like with anyone else, I remind myself that at least I'm still here, at least I've got this far, and I thank my lucky stars. I've got great family, fantastic friends, and most of all, I've got a future, with future plans and dreams. I am so lucky.

It won't be a big birthday party - that's for next year, but every birthday feels like a little victory for me, and a little memorial for those who didn't get this far.

Can We Talk?

2010-09-02T17:40:00.000-07:00

Because there is something we're not really dealing with in Homoland. It's not HIV, but I'd argue a lot of our new HIV infections are caused by it.

I'm talking about the generally poor state of gay men's mental and emotional health. Britain's Attitude magazine recently did a story on it, which got picked up by The Observer. I see no reason to doubt the situation is any different here, in fact what I know of my own life and the scene I move through confirms this for me.

A few weeks ago I was talking with a gay man here in Auckland about the same problems. Gay men have higher than average rates of depression, of drug and alcohol dependency, of STIs, of emtoional and mental health issues in general, and, tragically, of suicide.
Yet it's a topic we don't seem willing or able to address.

I've been to far too many funerals of friends who have committed suicide. And I confess, it's something I've thought about often myself. That began for me as a teenager, realising I was gay at 14 or 15, and thinking it was the worst possible thing in the world and that I couldn't possibly find a way to live with it, that my life would be marred by shame and isolation, that I'd be rejected by my family, that I'd never find someone to love me - all those horrible and destructive thoughts weighed down on me as I look at the world around me, and only saw gay men portrayed as sick, sad perverts to be laughed at or attacked. At 16 I went around for several months with a razor blade in my pocket, wondering if I should use it. I never did.

And suicide is a thought, a theme, that still sits with me, the idea that I could end my own life one day. Before anyone panics and calls in emergency counsellors, let me say, I have never actually made an attempt, or even planned it, and I'm fairly content and planning on staying around to piss people off for a while yet. But I've thought about it - especially in the worst days of what AIDS was doing to me in the 90s. And I know I am not alone in this.

But we don't talk about it. Or when we do, a lot of guys seem to blame themselves, to wonder what they've done wrong, what it is about them that makes their lives this way.

It's not us. That's something I'm very clear about.

We live in a world that marginalises us and makes us fight for every scrap of acceptance we get. Yes there have been massive and important legal changes - but society in general is still not that friendly towards us. And most parents would tell you that if their son is gay they'll "deal" with it, but even that tells you it's something they'd not choose for their son, it's not their first, best option - it's something that has to be coped with. Every time I read a news report about a teenage boy killing himself and family and friends are trying to understand the tragedy, saying how it doesn't make sense, what a good student/sportsman/friend he was, I always wonder "Was he gay? Was he like me at that age, but he actually did it?" And I've spoken to young gay men who have found the way their family reacted to their coming out so difficult they've embarked on behaviour I can only see as self-destructive, at times with terrible results - and yes, I do blame the parents to some extent in those situations. Your 19 year old son got HIV or killed himself? What did you do to set up his life so he wouldn't? How did you react when he came out to you?

We live in a largely homophobic world, and that takes its toll. We rarely get to see positive images of gay men on TV, in film, in pop songs - and these things matter. If we can't see ourselves in the everyday culture around us, and see ourselves depicted in a positive light, the unspken message is that we don't count, that we are in fact not worth it, that we can't have stories of love and happiness played on the radio or shown on the screen. That's a deeply corrosive and harmful message. And as I've said before, when I talk to young gay guys coming out, they typically say that they want a boyfriend, but the gay scene offers them bars, drink, sex and drugs. We don't seem to have the social infrastructure to offer them, or older guys, ways to meet and to be outside of highly sexualised settings. I love sex, love a party, as anyone who has been paying attention to knows, but they are the icing on the cake - not the cake itself - or they shouldn't be.

Do we need an institutional response? These mental health issues are just as important as HIV, we do have a real mental health problem as a group, but as they are less visible they attract far less interest. Could the NZAF do more in this area? Not without extra funding, and just whether it is where they should be working is a debate in itself. Could we get a campaign like John Kirwan's one on depression up and running?

I'm not sure what the answer is, I'm not sure how we make our world better for us and for the younger generations coming out, but I do think we need a conversation, I do think we need to start talking about it, and considering just what we can do.

And the Runner-Up Is!

2010-08-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Me.I have never entered a competition like this before, and I very much doubt I ever shall again, but I have to say it was a lot of fun. It was the persistent bullying of the owners while I was in a mentally weakened state that pushed me into the contest in the first place "Go on... ! Go on!" - that and my admission I can fit into my leathers again - with a good belt to help things in place.

The thought of winning a free trip to Melbourne to represent NZ over there was tempting, but the thought of having to compete again was less appealing I have to say. I do not have a gym-toned body, as much as that may surprise some of you, and feel my advancing years keenly. And the winner in Melbourne gets sent to IML (International Mr Leather) a contest that's been going for 32 years, in Chicago.

But the cool thing about the leather community is that it is very broad in how it defines itself and who its members are. This year, the winner at IML in Chicago, Tyler McCormick, was the first winner in a wheelchair and the first FTM guy to win it as well. So what happened to the stereotypes about the leather-scene being this place of muscle men who are so wrapped up in their dead-cow and egos they don't notice or care about anything else? Not true. Like any other part of the gay scene, you can find idiots and bastards in the leather community, but it's a pretty friendly and non-judgemental place by and alrge I reckon.

I've been in and out of the leather world since I was first introduced to it in Melbourne when I was 18. At that age I was a little amibvalent, a little scared (and fascinated) but I think the men I met in that world then often treated me better as a young gay man than those in the wider scene. There's nothing like being in a minority in a minority. Do you have to be into filthy kinky sex to be into leather? No. Though I guess there is a higher chance of encountering more sexually adventurous men in this crowd that elsewhere *cough*.

And I like my leathers, and was surprised at how much I had when I pulled it all out of the wardrobe: some of it I bought, some was gifted to me and carry memories of the friends who gave it, and I did have to borrow a couple of things as well in the end.

But anyway, Friday night! The tension ! The excitement ! OK, there were only four of us this year - one contestant had pulled out the day before - but you work with what you get. And we had the added glamour of Mr Leather Australasia who'd come over from Melbourne to guest-judge. There was a bit of horror when we saw the complete hanky-code colour chart on the wall and realised we might be exmained on it - an utterly ridiculous number of variations, but luckily I don't think that question came up. (Did you know that pale pink is for those with a toe fetish - pale pink = shrimp = toes)

Now, it was a friend's birthday that day too, so I'd had a few drinks in the evening with him and some mates, then headed home to get ready, headed up to Kamo for Furry Friday with the Bears, and a few more drinks, then onto Urge and free drinks in the changing room. Yes, no mention of food in that list is there - so yes, I was pretty hammered before I got on stage. I am still trying to remember just what I said on stage, but I'm pretty sure I was for world peace.

But, it was fun. The Urge crowd was great, all very encouraging, and when we rushed around collecting funds for the Prostate Cancer Foundation, we raised $720 in 25 minutes - not bad at all. I think that is me for such contests though - like sky-diving, good to do once in your life, but I wouldn't make a habit of it.

Jamie Gates won, and deserved to, congratulations and have fun in Melbourne - he did really well. Murray and Mal, thanks, you were worthy foes. And while it was a contest of two rounds, I think we can say that leather was the winner on the night.

Putting the "Sex" back into homosexuality.

2010-06-29T19:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't written about sex in oh, at least an hour, so why not start again. Actually, it's part of my job, doing my PhD, writing about sex and how gay men have sex - and I usually enjoy it - the writing I mean. Oh, and the fieldwork.

I've been thinking about what it was like when I was a baby-gay, back in the 70s when I was in my teens and coming out. Nearly all my initial contacts were sexual, until I was about 17 and started making gay friends, and as a teenage boy getting all that sex, I was very, very happy with that. Young, dumb and full of cum, as they say. Yes, I also wanted a boyfriend, and love, but like most teenage boys, I tended to think with my dick.

Suddenly there was a whole world of fun in front of me. And Gay Liberation actually had the message of sexual freedom at its core. We aren't heterosexuals, so why form our social and sexual patterns on their models? If you want to go and fuck till sunrise every day, well why not? And a lot of guys did that.

That's putting it a bit crudely, but there was a sense that we needed to move away from the judgmental and anti-pleasure aspect of so much of how the straight world saw us.There was a strong message of celebrating the body, celebrating the sexual. This didn't mean you couldn't fall in love and have a partner, but there was so much negativity about two (or more) men getting naked and having fun that Gay Lib thought it important to stress that there is nothing wrong with it.

Instead of the old message from society 'You are evil sick perverts for doing that' we took on a new "sex-positive" message instead, saying two (or more) men getting naked and having fun was a very good thing indeed - if that's what you wanted. I remember at one of the first Gay Lib meetings I went to at uni being told how lucky we were as gay men - we could screw around as much as we liked and no-one would get pregnant, the worst that could happen was syphilis and that just needed some pills.

And then, along came AIDS.

And with it came a whole lot of finger-pointing and moralising, and an awful lot of people saw it as God's punishment on filthy homos. Quite a lot of self-hating gay men did as well. And some still do - I've met them.

But there's a mistake in their logic. HIV can be transmitted by sex, but it's not caused by sex.

Yet that old stupid, anti-pleasure messages keep coming through. I think NZ has quite a strong puritan streak to it - all those bloody missionaries had a bad effect. Christianity really doesn't like anyone having a good time with their body. And I am surprised at how often I come across the attitude even today among some gay men, this idea that sex is bad, a sin, something that shouldn't be talked about, shouldn't be mentioned and the cause of all our woes. Then they disappear into a sauna, have sex, and feel terrible about themselves again. Sad really.

It doesn't have to be like that! Sex is great ! Or it can be. No - It's not the be-all and end-all of life, and sex is different from love, something a lot of gay men know very well. And when sex and love come together, well, that's magic, that's probably what we all want I guess. But even if I had the perfect partner, I suspect I'd still want to fuck around, and would expect it not to be a problem.

I'm still often utterly entranced by the random beauty of men I end up in bed with. Some are regular fuck-buddies, some are casual one-offs - but it's rare that I end up naked with a guy and don't find something beautiful and sexy in him. I hope that they feel the same way. And I know, I'm getting older, greyer, saggier, I'm not as desirable as I once was, but I don't care too much.

It's my body, and I like my body, and I like what I can do with it, and what can be done to it. And that's enough for me.

I Like Dykes

2010-06-20T15:52:00.001-07:00

I listened to a couple of guys I know the other day making jokes about lesbians. Not nice jokes. These were gay guys too, not idiotic straights - and it made me wonder: Why do some gay men seem to find lesbians hard to deal with?
I've always had dyke friends, since I was 17 or so and just coming out. Maybe that's exposed me to their world more, so I'm comfortable around it, I don't know, but some of the stuff I hear from other gay guys really repels me. It's nasty sexist bullshit, and I doubt they'd tolerate it if a straight guy talked about them that way.

And I remember the way so many dykes stepped up and got so deeply involved in HIV/AIDS: They didn't need to - it's not a virus that lesbians tend to get infected with. But they stood up for us in a huge way. Way more than some of the closety bitter queens that are still around. Lesbians helped protest for better care and treatment, they helped in a practical on-the-ground sense of getting food to people, driving them to hospital appointments, and they took care of us, they looked out for gay men sick and dying with AIDS in a way that most of the rest of society wouldn't.

How many gay men are interested or even aware of any health issues in the lesbian world?

I suppose one thing is that lesbians in general tend to be much more politically switched on than gay men. They get done over by society twice: first for being women and then for being same-sex attracted. And yes, society still treats women unequally - look at the pay gap over a lifetime's work if you want a simple example of it. While all the technical and legal disadvantages to being female might have been removed, the social and cultural ones are still strong. But most gay men never really understand that side of things. The old message that came out of lesbian-feminist politics "The personal is political" still holds, but it's something that a lot of gay men don't have to engage with - we're still men at the end of the day.

Part of it shows the weakness of trying to build a community based only on sexual orientation. Gay men like men - lesbians like women - so some assume that we should all be the same, but we're not. Being part of a group attracted to the same biological gender doesn't make a community. Shared history, shared ideas, and shared rituals do, and so does shared oppression - yet now that we've become so mainstream in so many ways, and a lot of that social oppression has lifted, that sense of connecteness has been eroded.

So I guess I just want to say I like dykes. I have strong, intelligent, funny and kind lesbians in my life, and I think you're great. You make my life richer.

Caught in the Net

2010-06-01T16:08:00.000-07:00

Every now and then I get an email from some dating site I joined up and lost interest in, telling me someone has left me a message. They're usually from Ghana or somewhere in the old USSR, telling me how much they loved my profile and that distance is no obstacle to our love - I don't even bother checking those emails now. But thanks guys anyhow. I've looked at, and joined, and forgotten, a lot of sites over the years.

Just how many gay dating sites are there? Here in New Zealand nzdating has things pretty well sewn up, but gaydar can get pretty busy. They're all a bit different, but with a fair amount of crossover too. Damn, admitting I know that shows how much time I spend on them. Well, I did do my MA on gay men's online sex-lives, I'm just maintaining my research interest, honest.
Let's see - what comes to mind first? - NZDating, Recon, Gaydar, Gay.com, Grindr, Manhunt, BearWWW, Hairy Turks, GayRomeo, Squirt, Silver Daddies, Adam4Adam - that's just a little list, and they all have their own characteristics.

Some seem to attract certain age groups, and some are designed to target certain groups. Some are more geographically specific, some are international. You can find sites for just about any kind of gay identity it seems: You're a gay Mormon? There's a dating site for you. You're in your 20s but like guys in their 50s & 60s? Try Silver Daddies. Have you moved beyond vanilla sex? Recon should do you just fine. You're a total Mac-geek? Grindr is already on your iPhone I'm sure. There are of course sites that deal only in bareback sex - you 'd better know what you're doing if you go to them.

And we tend to call them dating sites, but let's face it - most of the time they're not. NZDating is widely known as NZFucking for good reason. But sometimes people do meet up on them and fall, not just into bed, but in love, and create a relationship. I've known men fly across the world for someone they've met online - always a bold move, and not one that always plays out so well.
Then there are the sites like X-tube, not officially gay as such, and more about sexual display, but even there gay men reveal all sorts of strange things about themselves, often providing intimate glimpses into their lives and hearts along with the money-shot.

The net has changed so much of our social world. For gay men, I think it's been a two-eged sword. On the one hand, it's made it easier for a whole lot of guys in small isolated places to feel connected. It's also made it easier to hook up. And it's made it easier for a lot of guys who don't like the gay scene, or who are deeply in the closet, to get a bit of nooky in their lives. And there can be a sense of community online, but I think it's pretty thin. There are people on various sites I've been chatting to for ages, but will most likely never meet - I'm not sure I would want to spoil the illusion by letting reality intrude.

But I think it's also had the unintended consequence of weakening the gay world. It does seem harder for bars and clubs, the traditional centres of urban gay life, to keep going. Without the need to actually hang out with a bunch of other homos, we get less of a sense of ourselves I think, we become a bit more isolated, a bit more fragmented.

And sometimes it just seems so lonely and hopeless, seeing so many men out there with their impossible wish-lists for their perfect partner. So many men, sitting at home, typing out messages to each other, opening up their hearts at times, sometimes just their flies, but so often expressing a real desire for affection, for connection and for love to some stranger. And then they meet - and then? As I said, I know some happy stories, but they seem to be in the minority.

Apart from the lucky few, I don't think life online is going to bring those things. We get this false sense of intimacy when we're online, but you don't really get to know people unless they're sharing the same air as you, unless you can see them and hear them.

I won't be going off the grid, but I do wonder just what it's doing to us all at times.

This Could Be You or Me

2010-05-20T15:46:00.000-07:00

Some of you will be aware of this story that has been doing the rounds this week.

Two men, lovers, in Malawi, have been sentenced to 14 years in prison for getting engaged, for publically acknowledging their love for each other and for being public about the fact they are men who love men.

Malawi is an old British colony, like us, and like us they were governed under British laws, and it is under these laws that these men have ben prosecuted. One of the weird things about so many ex-colonies, and old cultures that have rushed to embrace the modern western way of life is how puritanical sexual ideas have taken such strong root in them. When Catholic missionaries got to China in the 16th C they were appalled at how people regarded men having male lovers as not even worth commenting on. China after the revolution became sexually more puritan than the Seventh Day Adventists. We know that in Africa all sorts of different forms of sexuality were seen in the many different cultures there: Today we see a restrictive, and often hypocritical level of adherence to "Christian" morals and compulsory heterosexuality largely underwritten by nutty American Christian fundamentalists.

The strangest part of the hypocrisy I see is the way they use the bible to justify their stance. yet it was the bible that was used to justify both slavery of Africans in general, and aparthied in the old South Africa: God had ordained that Blacks should serve Whites, or that was how they interpreted Genesis 9:25 - 27. I wonder if anyone has reminded them of this fact.

And I feel powerless to do anything meaningful. In the past I have boycotted products from countries I opposed, or written to their ambassador, or taken part in protests, but I really don't know what to do here. I probably will write to someone there, expressing my anger and disgust.

It wasn't that long ago that here in New Zealand I could have been arrested for this sort of thing. Every time I went to bed with a man in the pre-Law reform days I knew I was breaking the law. We've made huge gains, in both legal terms and terms of social acceptance. But what has been achieved can also be lost - don't forget that. Seeing gays as a generally accepted part of the general NZ community is something quite new, and while we take it for granted, there are those who would like to see the same position that the judge in Malawi has taken employed here.

I'd just like us all to stop and think for a moment what it would be like to be in these men's shoes. Imagine their bravery! Imagine their sorrow and despair now at this barbaric and unjust punishment.

Homo ! Dyke ! Poofter ! Gay ! Leso ! Fag ! Queer !

2010-05-02T18:12:00.000-07:00

Which label fits you best? Which one do you use for yourself ? Or do you hate them all? I think a number of us have had these words spat out at us as terms of hatred at times, and that's always nasty.

I generally tend to call myself gay, but will also use poof or fag at times, just for the hell of it. In lectures at Uni where it's appropriate I sometimes call myself a big old homo: Because let's face it, I am. But the full word "homosexual" (only invented in 1867, heterosexual came 10 years later) now is seen as clinical and less appealing to many. It sounds like an illness to many, so it seems less popular as a personal term.

There's an old political idea that by taking over the words our enemies use to attack us and using them ourselves we rob the words of their power as weapons - the growth of Black Pride in the USA in the 60s & 70s (in contrast to the older, more respectable "Negro" or "Coloured") is an example of this, and so is the recent appropriation of "queer".

Yet many older gay people, especially older gay men, hate the term"queer". For them it is associated with the fear, misery and bullying of their youth, but a lot of younger gay people seem to prefer it. And hard as it may be to believe now, "gay" itself was once a radical term to describe same-sex attracted people. Today it seems a bit boring and ordinary as a label, safe and conventional. The growing use of "fag" just shows the growing influence of American culture on us all. I never used to hear it when I was a teenager. And if you think it's somehow based in the use of the bundles of sticks to burn homos at the stake, well, you're wrong.

Many lesbians dislike "gay" because it's seen as too closely tied to male issues and ignores them and the issues that go with being a dyke. And "dyke" was also reclaimed by lesbians in the same way I talked about above: for many "lesbian" seemed too technical, too clinical and dated.

Does it matter? Some people say "Don't label me! Who I sleep with isn't who I am!": Yeah, well I think they're just kidding themselves. Society labels us all the time. We live in a world of symbols and labels, everywhere, and how they are used can often have a deep political and personal effect. And my first reaction to those who reject any label based on their sexuality is that they still haven't really come to terms with who they are.

So what about "queer" then? Well let's start with this nice neat idea that there are two sorts of human sexuality - hetero and homo. A nice idea, but it's flawed; there are all sorts of permutations and shades of grey in how and who humans fuck. If gay is solely for same-sex attracted people, then what about bisexuals? (They actually do exist). What about people who have differing gender identities from the norm? Transexuals or Intersexed people for example? They're not gay, but they're not straight either. "Queer is useful in being inclusive of all types of sexual/gender difference.

"Queer" also took strength as a label from academia, and the invention of Queer Studies in the last 20 years or so. Personally, it's not a project I have a lot of sympathy for, but it has its place. The beauty of "queer" as a social identifier is that it gives space to those who are marginalised even within the gay world. If you call yourself "queer" you're stating that you are sexually different, that you're not straight, and that's a useful tool to have.

In New Zealand you will often see the letters LGBTTI used (Lesbian, Gay Bisexual, Takatapui, Transgender, Intersex) and let's face it - queer is easier if you're trying to be that inclusive. But it also can cover so much ground that it loses force; it sort of assumes too that everyone who is queer will share a common set of interests, and that just isn't so. For instance, I'd argue most gay men have little interest or understanding of what it means to be a transperson. Their interests are not necessarily those that we fags share, beyond that of basic Human Rights.

Names can and do have the power to hurt or help us. Being abused by people on the basis of who we (or who they think we are) sexually attracted to can be deeply painful. But it's fun to turn it round at times too. A while back at a cocktail party I was asked if I was married or if my girlfriend was there and replied "No, I'm a cocksucker." It made the party a bit more interesting.

And even while writing this I stopped at times and thought" Which word do I use here?" They are slippery things, nowhere near as neat and obvious as we'd like to think, but they matter now and will continue to.

Who Speaks for Me?

2010-04-19T15:17:00.000-07:00

I was interested to read this article on gaynz about the magazine "Collective Thinking" and how Body Positive (BP) and others view it and where it should be.

Now, let me declare my potential conflicts of interest up front: I have written for the magazine a number of times. I have close links to NZAF as an ex-Chair of the organisation. I have also served my time on the Board of Body Positive back in the 90s, and I have helped run a number of support groups for BP over the years, I think I co-facilitated five of them in the end, as a volunteer. I also carry out research at University into life with HIV for gay men in New Zealand.

So I'm sort of in the thick of it to some extent.

Do HIV+ people in New Zealand need some sort of magazine or forum where they can connect or at least feel as though they matter? Yes, definitely, and like Ray Taylor I'm a fan of the idea of turning it into an online resource.

Is BP the right group to be running this? Well, personally, I don't think so. They like to claim that they are the national organisation for those of living with HIV, and that claim is typically unquestioned. But there have been bitter fights in the past between BP and people trying to set up HIV support networks in other parts of the country. Yes, I'm airing some dirty laundry that none of the gay media have ever picked up.

We don't all get on. We don't all agree. Just because we have HIV doesn't automatically mean we form a community.

A lot of the resentment from people out of Auckland in the past came from people thinking BP was doing a typical Auckland take-over, trying to take ownership of their groups yet being blind to the needs of local people, or even HIV+ people in those places who do not think BP does such a great job in the first place. In many ways the relationship has a strange echo of how BP complains about the NZAF. To be blunt, not everyone living with HIV respects and listens to Body Positive, yet they get to claim they are our voice.

They do in fact do a lot of good things under difficult circumstances, but their main problem is one outside their control. More and more people who get diagnosed with HIV find that after the first shock, which may last months, or years for some, they don't actually want to be in a group of HIV+ people. Simply having the same virus in your body as someone else doesn't create a single coherent group of people. And today more and more of us are getting on with life, and actually have no need of the services they provide.

BP was set up in a time of crisis, when people were getting horribly sick and dying. When I went to my support group there one of the facilitators died 3 weeks into our 12 week session. It was 1994, and it was a different world. In those days there was a clear and obvious need for peer support groups, in those days you knew you would get sick, and need help, and die from AIDS. I spent 3 years focussing on my impending death, was sure I'd never be able to have a meaningful career again or form loving relationships. Well thanks to the power of western Medicine, I got all that completely wrong, I'm glad to say. But in that time it did feel important to be with others who understood, who were going through it as well. But that was a different time.

HIV+ people in New Zealand do need strong advocacy, especially around maintaining access to the best quality medication, and in dealing with bigotry, isolation and stigma. And for some people, an HIV diagnosis is still something that overwhelms everything else in their lives and changes it in such a way that they find returning to "normal" life impossible. All of these things are important, and BP does what it can in these areas.

But lots of us aren't in that situation. Frankly, and I say this without malice, BP is not relevent to me as an HIV+ gay man today, and I know a lot of other guys in the same position. As we actually have a very small pool of people living with the virus here, it become even harder for them to stay relevent to people who are getting on with their lives.

We do need some sort of national organisation for all HIV+ people, but every time it has been attempted, it has collapsed at the first hurdle due to personality clashes and differing ideas of what it should be. BP ends up as the voice, but they aren't my voice, they don't speak for me, and I know an awful lot of HIV+ guys around New Zealand who are in the same position.

What's the solution? I'm not sure. But we need to adapt to a very different world and a very different population of people living with the virus. BP, or any other group that claims it can speak for people with HIV needs to ensure they are relevent not just to one small group but to the majority. And that may be an impossible task, but it's worth pointing out.

So How's the Family ?

2010-04-07T23:34:00.000-07:00

It's easy for a lot of us to think that now we've got all those legal battles behind us, you know, we're legal now, can't be discriminated against for being a homo, can get a Civil Union if you want, to think that it's just fine and dandy for everyone else who's gay in the country, but as I've been reminded a few times lately, it's not the case.

It's pretty hard for most of us to avoid family and the impact they have on us. And if you're queer, it can be really hard if the people you've grown up with and known since you were born freak out when they find out that you're not going to follow the straight and narrow path they just assumed you would naturally take.

Family matters. Their opinions of us are important, even when they're negative. And I don't know why but I've heard quite a lot of stories recently from people who have had really shitty experiences with their families.

Outright rejection is the most obvious and hurtful. I am actually stunned to hear that people's parents have refused to speak to them since they came out - this still happens today. And it can go on for decades, or till death in some cases. My parents were pretty shocked back in the 70s when I told them, and it took my Dad a long time to come round, but he did. Even then I was never excluded from the family, he and I just wouldn't talk when we met at Xmas or birthdays. I was lucky, my brothers were great, and my Mum was able to adjust and after the shock of the news, there was no problem.

But I've been hearing such hideous nasty stories from so many people lately - it makes me realise how lucky I am. I just can't imagine what it would be like to be totally cut off from family, but a number of people go through that, and it must be shit.

Then there's the other form of family cruelty, where they never really accept you, but still see you, but refuse to acknowledge your partner, or demand you never talk about the important things in your life as a queer - what you do, where you go, who your friends are, why you have a broken heart. They only want to accept a limited, sanitised version of you, one that won't embarass them in front of the neighbours or at work or in Church. And of course, it's always your fault for the pain and embarrassment, not theirs. They've done nothing wrong, but they sit there stewing in guilt and silent condemnation. Man I'm lucky I didn't have to put up with that. I thought we'd all got past that now, but I was wrong. It still seems surprisingly, and unhappily, common.

Another form I've been hearing about from people is when you think your brother or sister is fine with you being queer, their partner, wife or husband is cool with it, you go to their place for dinner, baby-sit the brats, then one of their kids turns out to be one of us - and bang! You're a demon. And you mustn't talk about it ! Even if your niece or nephew has come and talked to you about it. "Back off! This is something we'll deal with ! Keep your nose out! And don't you dare tell Mum and Dad!"

That response, to me, shows that in fact they were never really cool with you being a homo in the first place. They were able to put on a good front, they probably even really convinced themselves that they had no issue with queers - until their own offspring suddenly force themselves to confront the mess of bigotry that sits there like a leaking sewer under a nice tidy garden. In fact the brother or sister you thought loved and accepted you never really did; or why react this way?

And yet we listen to people constantly telling us that "The Family" or "Whanau" is the building block of society, the best safest place to be for kids, a warm sheltering place of love that will take you in no matter what. Yeah, right.

As I said, I have been lucky - a few nasty moments when I was a lot younger with my Dad, but we moved beyond that. And it's easy for someone like me to think that things are so much better than they were.

But for a lot of people that's not the case. They are rejected and emotionally abused by the people they should be able to trust the most. No one can exert the same power over us that family can. They know all the buttons to push in ways that others don't. And when they turn on us, withdraw their support and love, leave us because suddenly we are sick scum in their eyes, the result is devastating for many, and the consequences can be terrible.

It's good to remember that with all the legal and social gains we've made, it can still be a nasty cold unwelcoming and unloving world for a lot of us who don't fit the straight model.

WTF? Ricky Martin is Gay??

2010-03-30T14:15:00.000-07:00

So, whoever would have guessed that Ricky Martin was gay? OK, all of us really. But it matters. And it shouldn't matter - that's the trouble.

I can remember years ago as a scared gay teen desperately looking for any sign of gayness in singers, actors, public figures: I just wanted to know there were others out there like me, and they'd been successful. But of course, so many successful queers have had to hide who they are in a way that straights don't. And that's not right.

There have been some really nasty homophobic comments on message boards and youtube since Ricky made the announcement.

The saddest thing for me is that it still seems necessary for success in the entertainment industry to pretend to be someone you aren't. The general public are the problem more than the industry itself, yet it's a vicious cycle: if people in the public eye are warned that coming out will kill their career, they won't, and so the hypocrisy continues, and instead of queers seeing that being gay is normal, and in every part of society, they arre left without the songs, the films, the general culture, that reflects us and who we are.

Imagine if Ricky sang "He Bangs" or used "He" instead of "She" in La Vida Loca? Why hasn't Elton done a strong song that is about two men loving each other? It just seems ridiculous and sad that these things just aren't possible. The Pet Shop Boys are the first group I can think of that unambiguously sang about gay ife, but even they were tentative at times. I want to hear songs that talk about my life, not straights.

When are we going to have the first openly gay All Black in this country? And don't pretend there's never been one - there has. But the NZ Rugby Union would rather stop playing than admit it.

Why? What is so threatening about us? Why are we seen as such a profit-killer (cause that's what it's about - money) and a curse for popular entertainers? Even Ellen took her time in being public about it loving women instead of men.

If queers of every stripe are ever going to have real acceptance, real success and happiness in this world we need to be seen as part of it, not something to be denied. We need more visibility, not less. Gay Pride was about exactly what its name said - taking pride in who we are, not apologising for it, not accepting discrimination, not accepting being second-best.

There is nothing wrong, unnatural or sinful about same-sex attraction, or any form of being gender or sexually different. Yet the fact that ricky Martin thought he had to hide it for so long shows the power of social conformity, the way we are told to present ourselves instead of who we really are.

You only get one go around in this world, why should so many of us feel the need to pretend to be who we aren't, and how can we change it? No, who we are attracted to isn't everything about us, but it is an important part of it.

I live in the hope that more and more people in the public eye will be able to pursue their careers without fear and homophobia stopping them being who they are, and that those of us in the general public can do the same, but I wonder how long it will take, or if it will ever really be that way. We need to stop accepting soceity's opinion that we're second best - we're not.

Human Frailty

2010-03-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

Once again I am forcibly reminded, I am my body. Crossing Queen St on Wednesday on my way to a meeting at the AIDS Foundation, I felt this sudden Bang! like someone had slammed the back of my left calf with a hammer. I'd pulled a muscle, just by running across the road. Pain! And not the fun kind! I rang my Dr, got an appointment. Rang my boss and told her I wouldn't be back in. Staggered onto the Link and got to the meeting. The Dr couldn't see me till after 2, and they're only 5 mins away from my Dr and home, so I thought, "Just go for an hour" and I managed.

The Dr said "you've pulled your left calf muscle near the top." Gee, really ? A compression bandage (so not sexy) and panadol - not even a decent opiate-based pain-killer. Although a surprising number of friends have them in their medicine cabinets it turned out, offers of all sort of things came in - thanks for that! An awful lot of people have walking sticks lying around too it seems.

But now, 2 days later, and only slightly mobile, it takes me back to those bad old days years ago in the mid 90s when I was based at Herne Bay House and had to learn how to walk again. I had been so sick, had lost so much weight (down to 50 kgs at one point), that even getting from room down the corridor to the dining room there was a major effort, resulting in exhaustion and breathlessness. It was a triumph the day I could walk all around the house. After a while I could even, slowly, walk down to the shops. I bought a pie and doughnut at the bakery. Nothing ever tasted so good.

But being that sick, for that long, made me conscious of just how much we (or is it just me?) take our bodies for granted. Just simple things like being able to walk to the shops, being able to stand up in a shower and wash myself. All of those little things we normally just assume we can do.

And now here I am, stuck pretty much at home until I can move more easily. My life is limited again in a physical sense. And that is one of the things I remember from being so sick: my life being constrained to one room, dependent on nurses, (I love and admire nurses,double their salaries I say: anyone who can wipe your arse and still treat you like a dignified human being 1 minute later is a fantastic human being and valuable professional), waiting for friends or family to visit, measuring the day by when meals arrive, being sick and being so dependent on others - that sense that my body had betrayed me - hideous. And when you're body is crapping out on you it's pretty hard to keep your mind and heart in good shape too.

People talk about keeping a positive attitude, and fuck that used to piss me off when I was that sick. But I did learn the value of it eventually. Life does hand you shit at times, and you have to deal with it. I liken it to having to change a tyre on the motorway in the rain. You can bitch and moan about it as much as you like, but you still have to do it, so why not calm down and just get on with it.

But it was a horrible time in my life, one when I and most around me thought I was dying. Now, a pulled muscle is nothing like coping with PCP and other AIDS related conditions. But it reminds me of those bleak sad days in my past. And of how far I've been lucky enough to come.

And I am lucky: friends have been offering all sorts of support (enough with the jokes about keeping my legs elevated though guys) and I feel cared for and that's a lovely thing to know.

I've had to cancel a few dates, one in particular I'd been looking forward to; I feel like a kid who's been told Xmas is cancelled dammit. I won't be dancing for a while, and that is a bummer. I won't be able to walk to work as I usually do, and I probably won't be propping up the bar for a while. But this will pass, and I will get back to normal, again.

I'm lucky, and it's good to be reminded at times of how lucky I am.

Acting My Age

2010-03-08T13:08:00.000-08:00

I was out dancing the other weekend and "Forever Young" came on. I was dancing with a small group of old friends, some of us have been dancing together for 30 years. I'm 48 and I often go out dancing. Do I want to be forever young, as the song says, or not? Should I have taken myself off the dancefloor in shame?

Gay men are often accused of having a Peter Pan complex. And while we visible ones on the scene help create this stereotype, it's often applied to all homos with thin-lipped disapproval, to show we aren't really serious or mature somehow. We don't want to grow up, apparently. We like to do "young" things, like dance, dress up, go to parties, sleep around, and worry about our appearance, apparently. We spend money like teenagers, apparently. So we are judged by some, including some of our own, to be immature.

Well what's mature? Holding down a nine-to-five job till you retire? Getting to bed at 10 on a Saturday night because you're really too old at 50 to be out in a bar and dancing, it's just not seemly.

And so what if parts of this accusation are true? Most people are forced to grow up because of the needs of families, children, buying a home, all the stuff that typically goes with being straight. As gay men, we don't tend to follow this path. Our lives are different, because most of us don't have kids to worry about, and we can do a lot of things without having to put a whole group of other people in our calculations. I can remember a few years ago my mother saying to me, out of the blue "You know, I don't feel any older inside than I did when I was 20, it's just my body has aged." I hope I can say that - imagine feeling old inside. I don't want to.

Often it seems to me that the criticism of gay men not acting their age comes from our own, from other gay men, who for whatever reason, feel uneasy at the prospect of men in their 40s, 50s or 60s still going out and having a good time. Do we remind the young ones that they too will age, and do the older ones disapprove out of envy? I think so. But who decided that everyone had to retire to the suburbs at 39 and behave like their grand-parents?

You know, our generation watched an awful lot of friends sicken horribly and die, and while I was dancing with that small group of old friends the other weekend, we were all aware of all the ghosts on the floor who hadn't made it. I think, far from being immature, we're very mature: we grew up pretty damn fast in the worst days of the AIDS epidemic. We had to. And I think that experience helps us value now, value the joy and fun that is in the world, because we've seen how fast it can all disappear.

I know the scene is not for everyone, I know it can be shallow, vapid, and heartless and so can some of the men on it, and I've been through times in my life when I haven't been interested in it, but I've enjoyed coming back into it as well. I'm lucky because of the friends I have. And while some of those friends the other week were my age, or older, and dancing till 3 in a sweaty shirtless frenzy, they all have real grown-up jobs, and are strong clear individuals.

I don't care that I don't have a gym-buff body (well, if I could take a pill for one I'd do it but you know, I'm lazy...) and I don't think I'm having a mid-life crisis by having riotous weekends at 48 when most of the men I went to school with are fast asleep in the suburbs next to a woman they married 20 years ago. They are the ones who will wake up one day and have a mid-life crisis, I won't, because I've been lucky enough to lead a life that allowed me a lot more choice: I have very few regrets. I will get a new tattoo this year, and probably another piercing. And I will keep on dancing like a fool. Because life is for living, you only get one go, and I just don't care what anyone else thinks.

Summer Homo Fun

2010-02-17T14:14:00.001-08:00

Last Sunday saw well over 10,000 people at the Big Gay Out here in Auckland. Over 10, 000 assorted quuers in one spot. It was a lot of fun, as it is every year. And it's the last big LGBTQ community event in Auckland. The days of HERO are now over, for all sorts of reasons. And before HERO, we had private celebrations, but really it was only our protests that were public. Things have changed. When was the last time you heard of a gay protest?

So we've gone from a mega dance-party with huge shows, and an in-your-face street parade that offended many, and both with a strong and obvious emphasis on HIV, to a happy family picnic day that the right-wing Prime Minister of NZ thinks it is a good strategic move to appear at, along with the obnoxious born-again Christian Mayor of Auckland who believes we will all burn in hell as we're filthy sodomites, but hey, he still wants our votes.

In short, the BGO is a huge success. Everyone wants a piece of it. And yet it also holds onto its community roots somehow. I guess it's because its the one day in the year when we're out in public and know we are in the majority, and that's a great feeling. When you look around, you see thousands and thousands of queers, dykes, fags, whatever word you like to use. We're there, and it's good to be in a crowd of our own for a change, where the straights are welcome but in a minority.

The other thing that strikes me about it is that huge number of people, especially gay men, that I never see elsewhere. There are a lot of homos leading quiet lives in the suburbs who don't need to go to clubs or the other commercial venues. I suspect many are happily partnered, and worry more about their garden and the neighbours new fence than what happens on K Rd. And looking around the BGO it would seem these people actually make up the silent majority of homos here in Auckland.

Although it's not that obvious from the outside, the BGO is in many ways a "stealth" public health event. The NZAF runs it, and part of the thinking around current public health practice is that strong confident communities encourage and support members in staying healthy, so the BGO helps maintain our condom culture by helping gay men stay confident and proud.

Getting 10,000 queers together for a picnic is actually part of a deep safe-sex campaign, and I think that's a great thing.

The BGO does encourage us to celebrate ourselves. It offers a lot of room for people to take part however they want, from bringing a picnic and sitting with friends to dancing like its still Saturday night, even though it's Sunday afternoon, to engaging with the local MPs, or just wandering around and looking at the stalls and eating fairground food.

So many of us grew up isolated, afraid, and unsure until we came out and linked into the gay world somehow, usually through commercial venues. What the BGO shows us is that we can actually come together just for the fun of it. It's such a good feeling to be part of the majority, even if its only for a day.

One of the highlights for me was watching Mika's opening number for the Aroha Festival. He's always such a clever artist, I'm looking forward to seeing how this all goes. And along with that we have the Ourfest festival going on. Can gay Auckland support both? It will be interesting to see how they go, and good luck to them both: I know a huge amount of effort has gone into both of them.

And now we have the first "Bear Week" running next week, courtesy of the men at Urge. I think it's really good to see a resurgence of this sort of activity around us. I know my summer has felt busier than ever this year, and I like that, but hey, I'm a scene queen from way back.

I think this trajectory, from protest movement in the 70s and early 80s, to party and parade and an "in your face" attitude that charcterised much of HERO, to the calm fun of a massive summer picnic that the BGO is interesting. It shows us how we've moved in society, and how society has changed over the years.

It's more mainstream than before, less offensive to the wider world, less politically charged, but it is a valuable day and a hell of a lot of fun.

Many thanks to all involved and long may it continue.

Desire

2010-01-17T14:22:00.000-08:00

I always loathed PE at school. Anything to do with sports made me shudder. Except of course for the communal showers afterwards. But I hated playing rugby, cricket, going for runs, doing workouts - all of that. I've never had a great sporting relationship with my body. But I was lucky, I was able to get by on youth for a while and good genes, although, like so many of us, I never considered myself that handsome or attractive when I was younger. I look back at photos of me in my 20s and realise how mistaken I was. Now, the years are definitely showing, as are the effects of long-term use of HIV meds.

I was having a little pity-party for myself last week. "I'm nearly 50, I've got a gut, I have HIV, no-one looks at me and thinks I'm hot or handsome anymore" that sort of thing. And let's face it, it's not that unusual. Hotness and desirability don't last forever.

But we homos try to make it do that. The birth of gym-culture is at least partially related to the massive growth of baby-boomer city-living homos in the 70s and beyond. All those young gay men, all working out to look hot and stay attractive so they could get each other in the sack. Such effort! When the body will give up anyhow, or so the lazy ones like me thought.

I've joined a gym at least three times in the last decade, but I never get beyond a few months. To be frank, going to the gym bores me, even if I like looking at the results.

Yes, it's superficial to put so much emphasis on how we look, I know. But all human societies and cultures have valued beauty and attractiveness. Why would gay men be any different?

It is good for the ego to be desired, to feel desirable, to feel hot, sexy and attractive. It's a good feeling when another man shows interest in you that way. And I can remember when men did, when they'd tell me I was hot, I was desirable, and I turned them on. I liked that feeling. And there I was sitting in my office, thinking "Well, that's gone, that part of my life anyhow. But I'll manage."

Then my phone beeped. It was a fuck-buddy I hadn't seen for a while, asking me what I was doing that evening. He's ten years younger than me, he's definitely handsome, great body and basically we didn't take our hands off each other from when he walked in till when he left about 5 hours later. He finds me sexy and desirable. We curled up and talked and touched each other between sessions, it was sweet, warm and intimate. And hot. And my HIV doesn't worry him in the least. As he was pulling his socks on, about to leave, he asked "So, how's your health? You're looking great! I don't understand all the medical stuff but are your blood counts ok?" He is always totally relaxed around the whole thing, which matters.

Because for me, and for a lot of guys I know with HIV, simply having the virus in one's blood is enough to put up walls about how we see ourselves and how we act sexually. And this can lead to us actually setting the scene so we don't hear or notice the men who do find us attractive. We don't believe that we can still be seen that way, or we ignore it or dismiss it when men do tell us.

Why? In part it's because of the way HIV brings sex and death together. We all know, on a logical level, that condoms stop you getting infected, that safe sex can be great sex, and that HIV doesn't equal death in the way it did 20 years ago, but I think a lot of that stigma is still there. In fact I know it is. And often the biggest barriers are the ones we put in place around ourselves. A diagnosis often shakes the sexual confidence of even the most beautiful and gym-buffed men, for a while at least. And trust me, there are some very sexy men out there with HIV, but often after diagnosis it takes us a long time to reclaim that side of ourselves.

I was talking about this the other day with a very handsome young guy I know who is poz, and he said how it is hard to make the first move. It is for me too, but it didn't use to be. I put it down to the virus, the whole "I've got this potentialy lethal virus in my blood so you probably wouldn't want to get to know me and sleep with me anyway, so why bother asking?" attitude that is so hard to shake. And as my visitor the other night reminded me, really not that accurate.

A lot of poz guys I know say they always feel more comfortable fucking with other poz guys if possible. The fear of unwittingly infecting someone is strong for most of us. But here in NZ the population of gay men with HIV is very small, so it's often not an option.

Being desirable, feeling that one is desirable, is not just about sex. It's about acknowledgement. It's about seeing something in the other person, or having that seen in you. It's good for us.

So it was good for me to be reminded that in fact I don't know who finds me attractive or who doesn't. It was good to be reminded that there are gay men out there who are able to have great sex with HIV+ guys like me and not freak out over it, but enjoy it. And it was good to be shown once again, that just when I think I know something , the world can surprise me.

Looking Back, Looking Forwards

2010-01-06T13:44:00.001-08:00

Another year over, and already into the next. I'm not complaining, I'm glad I'm still going. I know it's a bit artificial to think of each year as somehow separate and distinct from the other, but it's how we humans work.

What will I remember 2009 for? Personally, the pain and chaos the Mills affair wrought was not fun to deal with. But that's over now. Work has been OK. Study has been OK. I've made a few new friends, which is always a plus. It's the first year in ages I haven't been out of the country, but that's OK too. And I had my first brush with the Censor thanks to my "full and frank" discussion of anal sex in a previous post. The Society for the Promotion of Community Standards, set up by the mad ex-nun Patricia Bartlett, but still apparently going in its own little echo-chamber, complained about it. The Censor's office didn't uphold their complaints, but they did want an R 18 warning on it, which is fine by me.

I'm often a bit sarky and suspicious when it comes to ideas of community, especially in the gay world, but I have to admit that there are real elements of it that enrich my life here in Auckland. Unlike "the old days" when we all seemed to go to the same places, dykes, poofs, trans and friends, now we're more split up, but there are links and bonds that matter.

Take my local, Urge, as an example. (No, I don't get paid for mentioning them). In 2009 they raised around $14,000 or so for charity. Around $7,000 for Outline, for example. Together with Caluzzi at the BGO they raised about $4,000 for NZAF. And they've run events for Prostate Cancer and Body Positive as well. To be able to pull together a group of gay men and get us to fork out that much cash over 12 months is pretty damn exceptional and praise-worthy I think.
Especially when you look at the size of the place.

It's actually quite a small bar physically, 80 people makes it feel crammed, 100 and you can barely move. On New Years Eve it was probably more like 150 and nearly impossible to move anywhere for a while. But most of the time it's far less crowded, yet over 12 months, with planning and hard work from the owners and staff, they are able to put back a sum of money into the community that most larger venues don't come near. So a big shout out and thanks to Urge for all it does for us all. I shudder to imagine gay life in Auckland without it.

We finally buried HERO. A twinge of sadness there, but it had had its day. Another sign that the community just isn't as cohesive as it once was. We don't seem to have the interest to all band together and create a huge festival like that at the moment. So it'll be interesting to see how the Aroha Festival and OurFest do. I'm still not exactly sure what they are, but I'm looking forward to finding out.

The Big Gay Out is coming, and will, I am sure, be the biggest gay event in the country for the year and as usual a hell of a lot of fun. And courtesy of Urge, we have NZ's first Bear Week, which will be dependent on volunteers helping make it work. Here's hoping we get a nice crowd of men from overseas to join in and make it an event worth repeating.

And now we get to revel in summer for a while, which is always great. So many hot men in shorts and tight t-shirts on the streets. I'm doing a few hours work every day, trying to get my head back into PhD mode, and looking forward to another year. I've had my first cohort of old friends from overseas staying, which has been great. we've known each other since our late teens, and one of the great things in life is to have friends you've known for decades. Watching the changes, seeing what remains, and just having that sense of a deep rich warmth that comes from such long acquaintance is something I love.

There's bound to be some shit along the way this year, as always, but at the moment I'm feeling remarkable upbeat. I hope you all are, and that it lasts for us all.

One Week On

2009-12-06T16:39:00.000-08:00

So it's a week since Glenn Mills' death. I for one can take no pleasure in the way his life ended. What I would have preferred is to see him stand trial, and, if found guilty (as I have no doubt he would have been) to do his time.

The trail of destruction he has left will continue to have its effects. We know of the people who came forward, but undoubtedly there were others, perhaps not infected, but at least treated with the same careless contempt by him in exposing them to HIV. And perhaps I'm being too optimistic here, but perhaps there are a number of people who've been infected by him, and we will never know exactly how many.

I've had to ask myself at times, if the decisions I took around all this were the right ones. I was not the first person to alert authorities, but I helped get things going. It has been one of the most ethically and emotionally fraught things I've ever had to deal with, but overall, yes, I did what I believe was the correct thing to do.

Analogies are always imperfect, but what would you do if you had concrete evidence someone was a serial-rapist, or a paedophile, what if in fact you'd been told this by one of his victims? What if you then heard through the grapevine of other victims? What do you do with that sort of information? I think you have a duty to take it to the right authorities, and personally I saw no difference here. But it wasn't an easy decision for me to make.

I know he has friends who love him and defend him. I can understand that. I don't believe he was simply a monster who only lived to infect people with HIV. But he had a part of his nature that did that without, it would seem, too many qualms.

I have heard people blame the men he infected for not taking better care of themselves, but it ignores the fact that even when he agreed to use condoms he had a history of deliberately tearing them or taking them off. The recent reports of his date-raping men also point to how he thought and operated. It wasn't about consent or care or love.

And there is a problem: Our entire safe-sex message, use a condom every time, is built on the idea of "Take personal responsibility for looking after your health". It's built on the idea that people are all in fact able to do this. But when you're newly coming out, perhaps with a family that is unsupportive of you because of your sexuality, you are in fact, more vulnerable, and less experienced. Yes, in NZ legally you are free to fuck from 16 on, but 16 year-olds are not renowned for the quality of their decision making, neither are 17, 18 or 19 year-olds. It's unfair and wrong to lump them all in as adults who are entirely responsible for their sexual health.

I think that those people who blame the really young people who got infected are simply wrong. These were little more than children out in the gay world, and all too easily inclined to trust this charismatic man. to say, as some have, that "They knew what they were doing!" is simply wrong. They thought they were in love with a man who they could trust, and they were young, naive and too trusting. I know he lied to these young men on more than one occasion when confronted about his HIV status.

And it seems that with a number of the other, older men, he deliberately lied, or again, tampered with the condom. I heard yet another story of this yesterday from someone who'd slept with him, but luckily did not get infected. My usual reaction when someone older gets infected is "That's terible, but it's not the end of the world, let's do what we can to support you" but I don't have a sense of blame, so I'm surprised to hear the voices raised here and there that blame anyone for getting infected in this case.

The people so willing to blame, and to, so it seems to me, take some sort of delight in finger-pointing and self-righteously cackling "It's your own fault for not using a condom!" are either totally ignorant of how this all happened, or nasty, vindictive and petty to a degree that is really disturbing.

The picture that emerges here of Mills is not clear, and not simple. While I'm sure he had many good and loveable qualities, he was also devious, manipulative and uncaring in his attitude to many when it came to his HIV. It is, I believe, impossible to interpret his actions as anything other than deliberate and malicious attempts to infect people. These weren't careless one-off accidents, but a pattern, repeated again and again on men and women, and some of them extremely vulnerable young men and women. He knew what he was doing, he had known since 2007. But he continued to do it.

His death means that those brave people who were willing to take the stand against him don't have to, and that has to be seen as a good thing for them. But it means he never has to face up to what he did. His death has left things hanging that will never be answered now, and I think that's unfair.

Was he mad, bad or just sad? I don't know. As I said at the start, I can take no pleasure in his death, but I think what he did was morally and ethically wrong on every level, and for that he deserved punishment.

*Any abusive comments will be deleted*

Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places

2009-11-17T20:42:00.000-08:00

On NZ Dating the other day, an 18 year old asked me to do cam sex. 18 .

I told him he was a bit young for me (didn't even look like he shaved) but he said "It's just cam and I'm horny". I said thanks, but no. It just would have felt...icky. Yes, I know, he's legal at that age, and maybe he goes for older men. I know I did. But still - it just didn't feel right. And truth to tell, I'm not really big on cyber-sex anyhow. Being on cam doesn't do it for me usually, although the voyeur in me doesn't mind watching others if they want to show the world. I just get too self-conscious to do it myself.

There's no doubt that the net has changed our lives. So many gay men spend so much time there - there are so many sites. I did my MA thesis on how we were using it, and focussed on the chat rooms in gay.com. Remember gay.com? It used to be pretty popular, but now I never even think of it, though it still exists and has followers it seems. When I started using it I don't think there were photos - this of course, was before broadband - just chat. And we did chat. And we hooked up.

When the net started up, there were all sorts of excited cries from academics in universities about how this form of communication would finally take us beyond our obsession with bodies and physical appearance, now we would meet as mind-to-mind, in cyber-space, and no one would know or care if you were a man or a woman, ugly or drop-dead gorgeous, 25 or 85 - using the net we'd just, you know, meet in this pure and perfect manner. This idea was, it has to be admitted, largely based in thinkers from the more obscure edges of gender studies, with a vested interest in showing us just how the physical body doesn't matter. Once again academia got it wrong.

One of the interesting things about online socialising/cruising, I think, is the way we try and show ourselves, how we present ourselves to this mysterious audience. In the best possible light of course. I've taken and re-taken photos until I thought I had one that I could stand, being one of those typical people who can't bear their own photos. Make sure the light is flattering, try and lessen the flabby bits, emphasize the good points, all the usual things. In fact, for what is such a transitory and technology dependent place, we really put a lot of emphasis on the body. The internet is utterly overflowing with representations of the physical. But even so, I don't imagine I'm going to do anything more than chat to a few guys and very rarely pick up in there. In fact, I can't think of the last time I pulled a guy online. I just tend to use both nzd and gaydar as letter boxes now. Even for sex, I find the net less and less useful now, or perhaps I'm just satiated. I think I'm far more likely to pull in a bar than online these days.

But when you flick through the profiles, and see so many guys pretty well saying the same thing - in essence:"Done the scene, looking for a partner" - I have to wonder just how effective the net is for really meeting men for more than just a shag. I have heard of some guys who've met and settled down after meeting online, but they seem the exception rather than the rule to me. As for straight acting, well, there is a surprisingly large number of "bi-curious" or "straight" men who hang out on these sites as well. You can't help but wonder how long they just look, and how many jump the fence. I'm sure part of it is the way the net exposes us and de-sensitises us to so much, not least of all sex. I'm guessing a fair number go from looking to trying at least once or twice, even if they don't take it up full-time.

Looking at some of the profiles, they are like shopping lists. you must have these interests, this age-range, this weight-range, skin-colour, ethnicity, etc. Perhaps this is how match-makers work? You give them a list and they go and find the nearest thing? But how long do you hold out for perfection? And of course "Straight acting". Seeking perfection online - it just isn't going to happen that way. And when I look at the solid, long-lasting relationships I know in the gay world, the guys are not perfect, except to each other. These lists seem self-defeating and self-deceiving as well. If the mythical perfect Mr Right suddenly left a message in your mail box, would you really be able to follow through, or would it be like a dog that's been chasing cars for years and finally catches one and goes "Now what?"

And what do you make of a guy who has his hard cock as a profile pic, and says he's "Looking for love" - I mean, is he joking, or does he really think love and sex are the same thing? If you're really after a partner, do you need to show them your hard-on? Or is it just maximising your time use "Yeah, I really really want a lover, but while I'm waiting, I'm horny." Somehow I doubt this strategy is going to work.

Does this whining mean I'm going to stop going online and looking around and chatting to total strangers? Hell no! Because maybe this time I'll get lucky and fall in love, or at least, get laid.

I Can See You !

2009-11-04T16:34:00.000-08:00

One of the most successful tactics of the Gay Liberation Movement back in the 70s was the emphasis they placed on "Coming Out" as a political statement. The logic was that if every gay man and lesbian came out and admitted who they were, the general public would see so many queers everywhere that they'd appreciate we were just a normal part of the population. If our real numbers were revealed, we'd be stronger. I remember reading somewhere a piece from back then where this activist said he wished every homo would turn purple overnight, so we could all be seen.

Coming out did work. It took brave people at the start, but over time it become more and more ordinary, and now it is hard to imagine a world where it doesn't happen, in the West anyway. By making ourselves visible, instead of quietly hiding away, we made ourselves part of the landscape. It was a very clever political move.

Even now, unfortunately, there are queers in New Zealand and elsewhere in the world who are still too scared to admit they are attracted to the same sex. People in Sports, Politics, Business, the Arts, on TV and everywhere else in our world who, in spite of all we've gained, even in liberal homo-friendly NZ, are terrified that someone will find out that they are somehow "different" and have to hide this part of their personality.

I have to say I find it weird that people today find it hard to come out as gay, but if you're in professional sports, trying to make a career on TV, being same-sex attracted is still seen as a weakness. Of course, if they all came out, well, it wouldn't be seen in the same way: That is the basic argument for Coming Out as an act - it makes us visible and normal.

But it can't be denied, it still takes courage to come out as gay. Those people these days who don't come out, I do tend to think of as just a little bit cowardly, but I understand their cowardice. One friend recently recalled the fear and terror of it all and referred to coming out as "stomach-churning", and I know what he means. It is opening yourself up and taking on an identity that is stigmatised, looked-down on, and saying, "Hey, I'm just as good as you!" when a number of people still think that we are sick, sinners or just evil.

But in reality we are just as good, or bad, or ordinary, as anyone else, gay, straight, queer, whatever word you want to use.

I wonder how well it could work for making HIV seem less fearful and more normal. I wonder how it would be if every HIV+ person came out, so everyone around could see that we are just normal people going about our lives. I'm not suggesting right now that every HIV+ person tell all to the world: It takes time and preparation and support before you can do that, and some people will never get to that point. But more of us could I'm sure.

One night back in the 90s at Volt (long gone alas) I was chatting with a guy, and said to him "I guess you should know I'm HIV+" and he said to me "You really don't need to tell me that, in fact, you shouldn't tell people. We should all just assume everyone is HIV+ and always play safe."

That has always been the basis of the "Use a condom every time" message. We just don't know for sure who has it or who doesn't. And that message used to be very strong in our world. This was all just after the new drugs came out, and things were starting to turn around for us, but there was still a strong communal knowledge of how bad things can get with HIV, so many of us had seen friends get so sick, and then die.

But that safe sex message has remained the same. And it does make sense still. We don't tell people "If you smoke 5 cigarettes a day you'll be ok". Even though people continue to smoke, we still don't encourage them to risk a few, we tell, with damn good evidence, that the best thing they can do is stop completely. And of course, realistically, we all know that these messages won't be blindly followed. So even though, you might be fine risking it having unsafe sex 9 out of 10 times, you might also have been exposed to HIV each of those 10 times you didn't use condoms. It's a brutally simple message, but one that is still factually true.

But I think one thing that has changed a lot is that now people who think they're HIV negative are placing a far greater responsibility of those of us who have the virus to tell them. It used to be all of us together - now it's seen more and more as the HIV positive person's job. With the numbers of people living with the virus here in NZ going up all the time, living well and not looking as though anything is wrong, and fewer and fewer of us dying, in fact the opportunity to be exposed to HIV has increased significantly.

The other advantage from that old way of behaving was that it didn't stigmatise HIV+ people as much. The burden was shared, and that was a good thing.

Today, if you're a fit, healthy looking gym-bunny who just happens to have HIV, as so many are, there is now I think even more fear and stigma about admitting it to others. And that's a shame. It used to be Poz and Neg together, not , as we often seem now, in two differing camps where the HIV Negative think the HIV Positive should shoulder all the responsibility.

Because having HIV is nothing to be ashamed of. It's a virus in our blood. It's not a moral judgement. But the weight of social judgement and stigma, not least from the gay world, is such that most people with HIV feel a need to hide it, so as to avoid the pain of rejection, pity and ostracism. And this leads to more invisibility, more fear and shame felt by those lving with the virus.

But maybe if you knew just how many of us are out there, perhaps you'd think differently.

Life, Literature and Politics

2009-10-19T16:41:00.000-07:00

I read a lot. So I go to bookshops a lot, and love spending time and money in them. If you're ever stuck on what to give me for a present, book-vouchers are perfect. But I have to admit that it took me a while to figure out that Unity Books here in Auckland had moved their gay literature section to another part of the store. On reflection, this surprised me: not that they'd moved it, but that it took me so long to notice.

Time was I couldn't wait to get my hands on any books that dealt with gay life. Fiction, poetry, biography, research, theory, whatever, they just seemed so important and so necessary to me. When I first enrolled at University, one of the first things I did was find out where all the gay books were kept in the library. I used to have that catalogue number memorised. The first time I went up there I remember looking at the books, pulling a few off the shelves, and looking down the aisle to see a guy with his cock hanging out, using the gay section as a cruising area. Now there is shelf after shelf of work on gay/lesbian/queer stuff and I barely bother to give it a glance, and I haven't noticed any hot undergrads hanging out cruising there either.

The old OUT! office in High St (very near to where Unity is now in fact) was my first source of gay literature. I still have some of the books I got there. Felice Picano's poetry "The Deformity Lover" and a few others. I wish I'd kept hold of my copy of the first edition of "The Joy of Gay Sex" though. That office was a strange place. They had porn under the counter, and serious literature on the stands. I bought works put out by the Gay Sunshine Press from SF, which I still treasure, because I do treasure books.

At one time, anything written to do with being gay was seemed esential to me. I read, and by reading heard of other books I should read. By reading I learnt whatit was to be a gay man. "Giovanni's Room" made me cry. "Dancer From the Dance" made me want to live in New York, dance, fuck and take lots of drugs. "Faggots" made me re-evaluate that, temporarily. I loved Rita-Mae Brown's work, and others from that era. Books helped me learn about how gay men lived in other places, gave me models for what to expect, how to dress, how to behave, what drugs did, styles of sex, all of that. They gave me an education, when one was hard to find locally, and showed me that I belonged to a much bigger more exciting world than 1979 Auckland.

Now there are hundreds of books, by many different authors available. And yet I feel little compunction to follow the latest trends in gay fiction or poetry. It just doesn't seem to matter to me any longer. Yet once it was central to me discovering who I was and how to negotiate the world. Perhaps internet dating sites fill that function now? I can't help thinking that they can't do it quite as well, but technology is always socially transformative.

I suspect that here we can see the effects of the normalisation of queerness. As we have won our rights to live as couples in the suburbs, adopt babies or bring them into the world with surrogates, or adopt unwanted puppies instead, and generally join the hegemonic world of day-to-day dullness that straights inhabit and so many of us now seem to crave, I suspect our literature (if it is indeed "ours" any more) has become less interesting, less challenging. We've moved from being a group of people demanding social change based on strong political analyses to suburban conformists shaping arguments on the premise that "Hey, I pay taxes too". We're in the system, not trying to change it.

Our communities have suffered as well. Once HIV/AIDS was a central part of who we were, at least for gay men anyhow, but today interest in this has nearly disappeared too. The communities that fought for better treatment of those of us living with HIV have largely dissipated. Instead of HIV and the welfare of HIV+ men and the care of us all being the central unifying issue for gay men, it has become of marginal interest for most, even when they become infected. A bored "Whatever, take the pills" seems to be the response to HIV today in the gay world, here in NZ at least.

So we've made spectacular gains in some areas. We can have our relaitonships officially recognised. We can't lose a job for being gay. We can fuck legally just like straights, at 16. We can take our pills, and manage our HIV pretty well for most of us.

But what unites us? What holds us together as a group now? And do I care? Maybe not so much, which is why I didn't notice they'd moved the gay books. And I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or not.

Sweet Ass Bro !

2009-09-24T19:25:00.000-07:00

I think I was 16 the first time I was rimmed. It was an utterly mind-blowing experience. Nothing I had ever heard or thought about had prepared me for the fact that my arsehole could be so exquisitely, delightfully, sexily sensitive. The tongue working away down there, in that most forbidden of areas, the waves of pleasure sweeping over me, and then even more shocking to my youthful mind, his tongue actually going up inside me! A man's tongue up my arsehole ! Feeling so good ! Taboos broken left, right and centre. Shock, but no horror - shock and delight. A pleasure which continues to this day I might add.

Of course, at 16 I had such a sweet arse too. Pert, firm, ripe, all those good things. it stayed that way pretty well through to my late 20s I guess. These days it has given in to gravity a bit. But I still admire a good arse on another guy. Sometimes those cheeks just call out. And if you want to freak a straight boy out, tell him he's got a cute arse.

And part of it is, of course, the fact that our anus is such forbidden territory when we are growing up, and even for most adults. It is, understandably, associated with dirt, with our shit. We are taught to be ashamed of our arses and our arseholes. The idea that they are a source of pleasure undermines such training. And the arse itself was often the site of punishment - I'm showing my age but at school we got caned on our arses, another way to mark it as a place of taboos and bad things.

When you think about it, all the organs that give us sexual pleasure are excretory. You piss through your penis, women menstruate through their vagina, we eat food, breathe and vomit through our mouths, and yes, we shit through our arses. Yet the idea of talking about it openly is anathema to so many, especially in the straight world. I think gay men as a whole are much more at ease when talking about our arses. Even those of us who don't go in for fucking still are living in a world where it's normal and so they're exposed to the ideas around it. And it seems more guys in NZ are learning to douche properly, which is a very good thing indeed. Accidents are not enjoyable, but occasionally come with the territory it has to be admitted.

We men are all being reminded now to be aware of our prostates, and it's a good thing that we are. Anal health is important, and gay men should be the ones who are most in touch with any changes in our prostates. No-one wants prostate cancer, and we should all be able to be aware of any changes going on there before we need to see a Dr. And taking care of your arse's health also involves thinking of good lube, of being aware of how relaxed or not you are. There is a huge range of anal toys out there, but don't forget, the colon is about as strong as wet tissue, and lined with blood vessels, so take care up there.

Let's face it - the arsehole is a source of great, deep and intense pleasure. Especially for men, because we have a prostate. That is the joy of getting fucked for guys, well, part of it. The way another's cock stimulates the prostate, it intensifies so many of the rest of our sexual feelings, just sends the body, or mine anyhow, into some sort of sensory overdrive. Yes, I love being fucked. I love my arsehole and all it can do for me. I'm a homo: arse-fucking is one of the things that defines what we do in bed. The great erotic tragedy of HIV is the way we now have to protect ourselves in this most intimate and delightful of acts. I still mourn that loss of spontaneity that we had before safe-sex, as much as I support the message and need for rubbers now.

It is amazing though, how the idea of anal sex scares so many straight people. And why, as I mentioned above, telling a straight guy he's a got a hot arse will freak him out so much. Part of that reaction comes from the idea of associating the arsehole with shit and dirt. But an equally important part of their reaction comes from the idea of a man becoming "unmanned" - by getting penetrated, and enjoying it, we are certainly not fulfilling the dominant cultural model of men as conquerors, inserting our cocks into women. We are, in the straight mind anyhow, somehow becoming women by doing this and enjoying it. But I don't see it that way. I don't think it makes me any less of a man because I enjoy it up my jacksie. I'm just a lot more in touch with the pleasure I can get from my physical home, more than most straight people, that's for sure. I know my body better, and know how to give and get pleasure from it, and how to do the same for other men as well.

I know that some straights are into arseplay as well, but for them it's more of a fetish it seems, something extra. To me, and I guess I uneasily stand along President Clinton here, sex isn't really sex unless it involves one of getting into the other. The rest, however much fun it is, is just the buildup. I've never been one of those guys who just lives for blowjobs - for me they are a starter, something before the main course.

So let's enjoy our anuses, our arseholes. Let's take some pride in being uphill gardeners. But let's do it with care for each other. Love your ass and it'll love you back.

And the way to this man's heart is not through his stomach, I'm telling you.

That's So Jewish !

2009-09-15T15:54:00.000-07:00

Yeah, well I wouldn't say that or even think it, because it's offensive. In New Zealand, why hasn't "That's so Maori" as a term taken off? Or "That's so Samoan"? In the States, why haven't for example, "That's so Black" or "That's so Latino" to equal "That's so lame" become popular? Maybe because people would find those terms just a little offensive and you'd get your head kicked in if you tried it?

So why do more and more people think it's fine to say "That's so gay!"?

I've heard the argument that "gay" used this way has nothing to do with me as a gay man - but that's deceitful self-serving bullshit. It does, and it's oppressive and insulting. What people do, when they use the word in this way, is take a word that is associated with a minority group in society, a group that has regularly and continues to be targetted, beaten up, murdered and have their basic rights denied, and then use it "jokingly" as a term for lame or poor quality. Well, fuck you.

It does seem most popular among younger people. Ah, young people these days. But not among all young people, some I know consciously avoid it. Some think it's fun to be offensive a bit, and push the boundaries. Do they go and make Auschwitz jokes to their Jewish friends I wonder? Or would that be going too far? Probably.

But it's ok to make fun of gays, and then claim you're not, because, well, we don't count. The simple fact that they don't make use of terms such as "Jewish" or "Black" in the same way shows just where we rank as a group. If we object, if we complain, we're being kill-joys, we're not seeing the joke, no sense of humour, not moving with the times. Yeah, right.

Those were the approaches used years ago to justify racial jokes and other forms of subtle, snide oppression. They were seen for what they were then - why is it so hard to see them for what they are now?

This use of the term gay as an insult shows minds that have no political awareness. To me it seems they have never fought for anything in their lives, except perhaps for Daddy to pay their bills usually. With no understanding of the political fights that have gone before, of the sacrifices made and hard work that it took to get us to this point, they feel free to trample over us, and then claim they didn't. Hypocrisy, ignorance, laziness and a sense of entitlement reek from those who use these words so blithely.

I've been told I have "no right" to censure their free speech. I disagree. I have every right, and will express it. They tend to think, when they do think, that they are entitled to say and do anything they like, so long as no one says or does anything that hurts them. Their own pompous outrage when criticised or mocked is often comical to see. Perhaps it comes from years of schooling where they've always been told how special they are, and how clever, even when most of them are, in fact, decidely average.

What about the argument that we "stole" gay in the first place? Actually, it had a history in slang for quite a while meaning queers and those on the edge of society for quite a while before Gay Liberation took it over in the 60s. And there was a clear political reason behind our use of it, just as there was a clear political reason behind the use of "Black" rather than "Negro" or "Coloured" in the same era.We were, in fact, reclaiming words that had been used to attack us, words used to put us down and keep us in our place.

I do not, and will not accept that using "Gay" to mean stupid or lame is acceptable. I am a gay man. We didn't spend years fighting for the few rights we now have to have it all subverted and be put back in our place by this casual form of linguistic insult.

Words matter. Words are powerful. Words can hurt, and words do have a political and social message attached to them.

Bimbos and Bodies

2009-08-27T19:22:00.000-07:00

A friend gave me some back issues of gay mags the other day. DNA, Attitude, Gay News etc. All choc-full of images of beautiful men. Men who obviously spend hours every day in the gym and live on wheatgrass juice, tuna and rice - I know, I know, they're models, but even so, they're held up to us as the image of what a gay man is supposed to be. These images are powerful, and their common-place use to depict gay men tells us something about our world, and I'm not sure I like it. And really, let's face it, these guys are our equivalent of busty blonde bimbos for straight guys. Hasn't Gay Liberation been a great thing? Baby, we've come such a long way...

So many muscles and such sharp definition that the split in their abs starts to look like a vagina, a friend noted. Ridiculously slim waists. And, with one exception, no body hair. So even though they're supposedly what gay men aspire to be like, if we're not already there, they actually look more like perpetual teenagers, stuck in early pubescence forever. They don't look all that masculine to me. I'm not immune to the charms of youth and beauty, but this sort of airbrushed perfection (and let's face it: these shots will have been enhanced) leaves me cold.

And what is wrong with body hair? On the one hand we have people prattling on about "nature" and "being Green" and then they rip their hair off with wax and look totally unnatural. Did you know you can buy "green" hair removal products? Why? Yes, I am hirsute. So I do have a personal axe to grind on this one. I like my body hair. And I like hairy men, I think they can be very sexy. And yes, so can men with very little body hair and all the gradations in between. I just don't get this desire to pretend that men don't have chest hair, hair around our cocks and balls, hair on our stomachs ( I just love following a treasure trail down ) facial hair, even... hair on our shoulders and backs! I just can't measure a guy's hotness by his hairiness, or lack of it, which is the image the magazines keep pushing.

As I look at the ads for the next dance-party, or the photos used on most gay websites, it gets harder and harder to find a piece of body hair, or a body that doesn't make Michaelangelo's David look flabby. Look back at some older porn or erotica and well over half the guys that were thought sexy in the 50s, 60s and 70s just wouldn't make it today. Instead we've somehow ended up with this hyper-muscular baby-bottom smooth twenty-something as our icon, and I'm not quite sure how it happened.

I'm old enough (here we go again..."The good old days") to remember when the gay media contained a level of self-critical reflection and political awareness that didn't simply centre on our right to imitate straights by getting married and having kids. I know, I know, consumption is everywhere and we've been swallowed up by it. These gay mags tell us about how to spend money to fit into certain social groups. And they all assume we have a disposable income, live in the city, are under 30 (or idealise youth) and are happy uncritically taking part in a political system that is, actually when you peel back the veils, not exactly on our side. We've had to fight hard and long for the rights we've gained, they weren't simply a gift by a benign system, and now we've been swallowed up by it. Yeah, I'm on a kind of a doom and gloom kick.

These images might be pretty, they might be hot, they might handsome, but what they also do is exclude a lot of us. Look around a gay bar or club, and the number who fit that images is way smaller than those who do. But the number of people trying to fit it and not making it is often quite high. And it just looks a little sad and a little wrong when some guy in his mid 50s is trying to look like a 29 year-old and not pulling it off (err, the look I mean, you dirty-minded filth).
What those of us who don't fit into these dominant advertising-driven models of gay bimbos get told is we're not quite up there, not as good, not worth as much. "Here is an image of what a gay man is supposed to be if he wants to be successful and loved" these ads say. "Ooops, you don't fit, so you're not going to succeed", is the hidden message here.

So remind me now, who else has to put up with relentless Body-Fascisim, pressure to look "right" and bimbos in ads showing them up all the time? Oh yeah, straight women. That's what we fought for, isn't it, to be just like them.

Michael Stevens: Sexual Consultant?

2009-08-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

I was at Urge again the other night and noticed a poster from The Basement. for those who don't know, The Basement is a sex-club. Anyway, the poster read something like "Thursday Night is Fetish Night at The Basement".

I looked at it and knew I wouldn't go. I just don't think I have any fetishes these days.

I used to. The feel and smell of leather used to be a fetish. Hairy chests used to be a fetish. B&D and role-playing used to be a fetish. Actually, without boasting, there are few things that men can do to each other sexually I haven't tried, and only a few of those I haven't really enjoyed at some stage in my life. Not that they were all fetishes I guess. But now, I just don't seem to have any. I know guys who just about cream their pants when they see a guy in the right sports kit. For some it will only be Adidas, never Nike or any other brand. Others are just into sports-kit in general. Other guys get all hot and bothered over tatts, or facial hair, or cigars. And some fetishes we just won't mention in public...

When I was 24 and living in NY, The Mineshaft, the grand-daddy of all gay sex clubs was still open. The things I saw there, the things I did, the things I was! Happy memories. Couldn't be bothered now.

No particular item of clothing or set of actions, no childhood memory or adult-inspired one gives me that sudden tingle and automatic sexual rush that fetishes do. I feel a little deprived. After all, I used to have them.

Is it just middle age? Well, I know guys older than me who are happily playing and exploring their fetishes still. Some quite a bit older than me - lucky bastards. Am I just blase? Jaded? Maybe I am. I listen to other people describing their fantasies and fetishes and mentally tick them off in my head, and then get the "Can I be bothered?" reaction. Not a good sign when an exotic night of sex seems like too much work.

And there are so many wannabes, who don't have the experience but they have the fantasy. A friend of mine once hooked up with a guy on line, and this was back before broad band when pics online were a rarity, who seemed experienced and into the wild and kinky side of extreme leather and role-play my mate likes. My friend was all dressed up ready, and opened the door to see this plump, blonde-bouffant, pink cashmere cardigan wearing 50-something all a quiver on his doorstep, saying "I've never actually done this before". My friend slammed the door in his face. never lie about your experience to a serious fetish-player.

A few years ago, chatting online, as one does, and this guy got in touch, saying he was training to be a hooker and needed some guys to practice on. Seriously. he was interested in me because I was both HIV+ ( something he needed to feel happy working with) and (b) experienced in fetishes. So I volunteered, after all, he was very hot. Beautiful sexy body etc. I thought to myself "Could this be a new line of employment : Michael Stevens, Consultant to Hustlers". It wold make a great business card, but I haven't put it on my CV. By blogging it have I just put it on my CV?

The session wasn't that great, again, in spite of my years of experience, it just didn't click for me, nor for him I think. He was a really nice guy though - I ran into him on the dancefloor at Urge a few years later and he reminded me of the whole episode. He hadn't gone on with the career change, figured out it wasn't for him after all.

It's not that I don't think about sex - I do. And I have it as well. And enjoy it - a lot. I look at hot guys on the bus, as I walk aorund town, in bars and clubs, everywhere, of course. Bring on summer and scantily clad sweaty men - wait - is that a fetish? But I can't see myself heading down to The Basement for Fetish Night any time soon. For those who do, I hope you enjoy it!

But what a shame I can't turn this into a career path. All those years of experience, so much to offer, so much to teach, maybe I should get the cards printed after all.

Mating Rituals

2009-08-06T01:55:00.000-07:00

Why is it that so many wonderful men that I know are single? And, for that matter, why am I ? Not that I am necessarily all that wonderful.

Is it the pool of men around? I mean, I have so many friends in Auckland, but I can't see myself falling for them, not when we've been mates for so long. And then you look on-line and see, well, all sorts of guys, some, let's admit it, seem just a bit sad and desperate, or wildly unrealistic. Guys who post entire shopping lists of desired characteristics on their profiles are not going to be my choice. I mean, how could you ever live up to it?

A few weeks ago an 18 year old messaged me on NZD and asked if I wanted to do cam-sex with him. I mean, really - 18!? Do his parents know what he's getting up to in his bedroom at night when they think he's studying? Shit - imagine if they walked in just as we were reaching the point of the whole thing. But most parents of teenage gay men have no idea what their sons are up to, let's face it.

I pointed out the age difference (nearly 30 years) and said no thanks, he didn't even look like he shaved yet, and he replied "Hey, I'm horny and it's just cam-sex mate."

Somehow I didn't find that flattering. Though I guess he must have found me attractive if he wanted me to jerk off on cam with him. An idea that I must say I really don't find erotic. I know some guys get off on cyber-sex, or cam-sex, but for me - nope, it doesn't float my boat.

So if not online, well, what about out on the town? The thing is, Auckland is just too small: it often seems that we all know each other, or at least, have heard about each other.

Every now and then I think "Maybe if I got in better shape, worked out, lost the gut etc... or changed my hair... got my eyes lasered... " but would that make that much difference? I might get more roots, but I don't think it'd get me true love, or even a semblance of it.

If all the gay men from NZ who've moved away came back to Auckland, just imagine what that would do to our social world. We'd be the gayest little city in the world if all those kiwi fags who moved away to live in a big city came back, if they all left SF, LA, London, Amsterdam, Berlin, NY, Sydney and Melbourne, and came back here, just think! Or just dream - I guess they did leave for a reason. It is small here, and the pool is limited.

But even though there is this pool of smart, sexy, desirable, employed gay men out there, why are so many of us single? I guess part of is habit. As I get older it seems more and more difficult to imagine combining my life with someone else's - difficult but not impossible (to any future husbands who read that and got put off please note the "not impossible" bit). I mean, I have all the furniture I need, I have somewhere to live, I have my routines - do I want to risk unbalancing all that for another guy? Well, yes, to some extent, I do. Because sharing life, love and all the day-to-day hassles it brings with someone else is fun and rewarding. I know, I've done it before, and I expect I'll do it again before I die.

Till then I 'll keep looking around at all my eligible smart, sexy single friends, and wonder why they're like that, and why I'm like this, but hey, life is basically good, right? I can wait. I'm happy.

Elegy

2009-07-23T15:21:00.000-07:00

Mike, Glenn, Alan, Peter, Alan, Andrew, Chris, David: I used to have a list somewhere of all the names of the men I know who’d died. Then it got too long. And now I can’t remember everyone I knew who died of AIDS. I hope their families still do, but it is over 20 years now since many of them sickened and died. Even to their brothers and sisters they will be turning into misty memories, the sadness and grief now all but worn away over time, as they look at old photos and remember the good times. I suppose this is what it is like after a war. Twenty years on who wanted to hear talk of the trenches of WW1 and their horrors, or who in the 1960s really cared about the agony and brilliance of the Battle of Britain pilots? Who cares today about the veterans of the first Gulf War? But in all of these, families were destroyed. Young loved men in the prime of their lives disappeared into some distant land or city, and returned, if at all, either plague-wracked and waiting to die or already dead, to the fear and grief of their families.

At least in a war, the dead are honoured. But for us, our dead were not so welcomed, not initially. The fear of contagion surrounding even a corpse was strong. To have to admit to friends that the funeral was for a son who’d got sick and died, here or in Sydney or London was shameful. Shame, guilt, ostracism, doubt and fear: HIV is marked with all of these in ways that other diseases are not. And if you nursed people through those days, watched them sicken and waste away, become demented, forget who you were even though you’d been spending hours every day with them, this was heartbreaking. It seemed a whole generation of beautiful young men were cursed, and we all wondered when our turn would come, because why should we escape?

Today, it is all so different, in a medical sense anyhow. For most of us, if you take your pills and do what your Dr says, you will be ok. Medically ok that is. But those deep currents of shame and anguish linger and are strong. Grown men still weep in fear and at their folly in getting infected. Even though they know in a rational sense that they will most likely not follow the same trajectory as we did back in the early days, still that sense of fear, of shame and of guilt is there, still strong, perhaps even stronger. After all, that little voice inside your head says “They knew the risks!” And it’s true, they did know what they were doing, and even so, in spite of all the safe-sex campaigns they’d been in, in spite of all the condoms they’d thrown off floats in parades, in spite of having manned AIDS hotlines, even they got it eventually, and they cannot help but ask themselves “Why? How?”

They will not die in the same way as all those men did 20 years ago. Blind, demented and lying in their own shit. They will be able to lead fairly normal lives. Travel. Have relationships. Have sex. Maybe even have kids. All this is possible now for those of us with HIV. But still, the shock is there, the trauma, the agony.

And for those of us old enough to remember the really bad days, for me anyhow, there is that sense of “Why did we have to go through all that horror?” along with a feeling that, in some ways, that is when in fact we were most alive, most useful, most worthy as human beings. We were in there, up to our elbows, dealing with sickness and death and grief on an almost daily basis. It was horrible, debilitating and sorrowful, and yet it felt for many of us as though we were doing the most valuable and important things that could be done.

And who remembers that now? Did it all happen? Did it matter? This generation today – they have no idea. And why should they, in fact, I want to protect them from it, but still I resent their blithe ways and their lack of understanding, their lack of history.

But then, go through small-town NZ and look. You will see them there, small memorials from WW1 or WW2; in my school chapel we even had a memorial for the Boer War dead. Think of the heartbreak every one of those deaths caused, the devastation and distress on receiving that letter or telegram, knowing that son was never coming home. And now, who remembers the person behind those names? Who recalls their laugh, what made them special. All gone, generations ago. And so will all this be gone too. Who will remember them, with their good points and flaws? Who will recall how they were loved?

God Save the Queens !

2009-07-14T19:41:00.000-07:00

"It's easier to hide an elephant in your armpit than a queen in a crowd" : apparently a popular saying in Constantinople in the 10th Century or so.

OK, so I'm fudgeing the date a bit, but the friend who told me this was a Byzantine historian from Athens, and a big old sodomite to boot, so I believe him. I've always loved the saying. It's not always the most popular observation, but the queen does seem to be a pretty unviersal human type, and one we can recognise whether you're in the streets of Moscow, Cairo, Beijing or Dunedin. I swear that in Jerusalem a few years ago I saw two screaming mincing queens dressed up as Orthodox Jewish women, wigs, head-scarves and all.They seemed to be having a great time, though causing some level of puzzlement to those around them.

Queens are powerful, and that's how I use the word queen, not in a disparaging way, but they are strong. Think of Quentin Crisp. Think of Philippe, Duc d'Orleans in 17th Century France, and according to Saint-Simon "the silliest woman at Court" yet a soldier who won huge admiraiton for his courage on the battlefield, even if apparently he was prone to run shrieking when there was a thunderstorm.

Edmund White in his biographical novel "The Farewell Symphony" notes the change that went on in the gay world in the 60s as the Gym Body moved in and the old queen style moved out - "Gay boys who just ten years earlier had hissed together over cocktails, skinny in black pegged pants and cologne soaked pale blue angora sweaters, and had disputed Callas vs. Tebaldi now lumbered like innocent kindergartners in snowsuits of rosy inflated flesh..." But really, when you think of it, we don't call them "Muscle Marys" for nothing now, do we?

And as we've just passed the 40th Anniversary of the Stonewall Riots in NY, it's worth remembering it was led to a large extent by the queens who lived in the area and used the bar.

So we are we now so quick to disown our royal pedigree? Why are queens so out now, and why do people claim (and puh - leez! it so often is just a claim) to be "straight -acting" or "discreet". What's wrong with being In-Your-face? Why is there so often the unease in the gay world around the obviously and effeminately gay male? They did, to a large extent, pave the way for us, yet now we seem ashamed of them as we try and sink into decent, dull, suburban, gym-toned obscurity.

You don't have to be a rabid screecher, you don't have to do drag, or wear makeup to be a queen. You can have a great body from the gym, a moustache, a deep voice and a hairy chest and be one too. Some of the campest queens I've known were some of the most aggressive tops I've come across too. The stereotypes just don't apply. I suppose it's the attitude. The confidence, the "Don't-Fuck-With-Me" to your enemies and the warm, loyal friendship (if sometimes expressed behind a veil of rapier like sarcasm) to those you love.

Queens are subversive and threatening. They pose a challenge and don't fit neatly into the current nice boringly beige model of gayness we live with. Queens, just by their existence, ask us "Do you really believe this shit they are peddling? Is this what we fought for? Is this what being a fag is really about? " Their bullshit detectors are flawless, and their hearts are deep.

And if they have airs and graces at times, well darling, don't forget, life in a palace changes one.

Why Isn't Life More Like Porn ?

2009-06-30T21:35:00.000-07:00

Well, it's probably a good thing it isn't, or nothing would get done, but the thought came to me as I was sitting here waiting for the plumbers to arrive.

If life were like porn, the plumbers would be hot, maybe one in his 40s, dark and hairy, strong but a little gut going on there, one in his 20s, friendly, eager and smooth, both wearing overalls undone down to the crotch cause of the heat, and that are somehow constantly threatening to fall off and reveal that big hard tool that all plumbers always walk around with. After fiddling with their tools and a couple of subtle comments and some serious eye contact, well, it'd all be on. But would your loo ever get fixed? After you'd all had so much fun together, would it even be possible to say "The tap over the laundry sink is dripping too" - bit of a come-down really.

Just think of all the trades that'd be so much more interesting if they were just like in the pornos: electricians, pizza delivery boys, mechanics, and we all know about the Police and what they like to do when they stop a car with a single man in it. That is if everything I've ever watched on TVs in gay bars and clubs is true, and why would TV lie to me?

Of course, if it were true, the Army, Navy and Air Force, Police and all manual trades would be known for being filled with homos, in the same way that people now joke about interior designers or hairdressers. It could be fun - "Oh, David", in a knowing but butch tone "He's a Police Officer now" with a pregnant pause after allowing everyone to know exactly what this meant.

But so much sex would get tiring all the time. And irritating as well. I mean, what if you just wanted a new power-point put in? There are times when no matter how hunky the sparky that arrives on the doorstep in his shorts and tool belt that you'd just think "Oh come on - I've got to meet my mum in half an hour!" The thrill of the erotic Policeman could dull over time too. What if you really were only doing 45 kmh in a 50 k zone, and actually you had to get home to feed the dogs? He's already got the cuffs out and his truncheon is ready and you're just like... "What? Sex with a big hunky sexy cop again! Not now!"

Of course, some of these guys in real life are hot, but then, so are some hairdressers, interior designers and dental-hygenists - we just don't give them the same sexy labels. Or has someone made porn about dental-hygenists that I haven't heard of yet? Because if so I'd love to see it. Though the idea is slightly disturbing. "No, I just want my gums looked at!"

But, then again, if we could turn it off and on at will, the supply of living porn, well, that could work. But that, like all porn, is just a fantasy - aint' never going to happen. And life isn't like porn, for which I'm glad.

And the plumbers arrived, were perfectly nice and efficient, and I wouldn't have wanted to do either of them.

I Like What I See

2009-06-23T21:27:00.001-07:00

Straight guys often make me stop and think. And not just because I'm looking admiringly at them.

Now I have to say I've come to find visual porn does less and less for me now as I get older. I am not sure why this is. I far prefer reading something erotic or pornographic and making up the pictures in my head than watching it on dvd or in a magazine.

A while ago I was at a largely straight function, and in conversation I mentioned I was gay. It just came up. No really negative reactions, but one of the guys said he wasn't interested in that sort of thing, but hey, two girls going at! Whoar! The other men agreed. Why is this "Two Girls" thing (I won't grace it with the name of lesbian) thing so popular in their fantasies? Because it sure is. All that"girl-on-girl"porn, which is designed for men, and they think is just perfect, if only they were there in the middle, has fed the image in their minds for them. It's not often you hear a straight man, no matter how homophobic, say he hates "girl-on-girl" por. And the idea is very much that they are "girls" not women. Not adults. Fantasy figures. And of course, the gay world is rife with fantasy figures as well in our porn. Yet I don't think we get nearly as upset about it all as straights can.

I mean, I didn't say how much I'd like to see two of them going at it, ( wish I had now) but there were a couple of hotties there who would have been fun to see naked and enjoying each other. But I have to say seeing two straight guys go for it isn't one of my usual fantasies.

Now of course I do enjoy looking at what's around. Eye candy - if you're gay, bi or straight - who doesn't like it? And in summer, some of those men on skateboards - meals on wheels a friend calls them - well, they have distinct erotic appeal. Not to mention some of the various sports starts and other icons that are constantly paraded before us. Not to mention hot guys in the supermarket, on the bus, and all those DILFs out there. But I don't think they know I'm looking at them that way.

But so many straight men tend to get so pissed off if you even mention that you think they look hot. Yet they're more than happy to speculate about the sexiness and what they'd like to do with women and girls, so long as they don't actually overhear them saying it. It's their guilty little secret I guess. They look at their wife's best friend's daughter and think "She's 19 and legal and I'd do her". Think of the whole MILF phenomenon: it came from straight guys considering boundaries they'd like to cross, beause after all, identifying someone as a "Mum I'd like to fuck" (MILF) is just a bit transgressive,just a little Oedipal. I find it interesting because they're not identifying the woman as a hot woman, but as a "Mum". But of course, we have our DILFs too, as I noted above.

But if we even voice the same thoughts about any of them, or any man in the area, we're called sick, lecherous, or even worse. The old double-standard.For so many straight men, our sexual admiration is a threat.

Looking, and enjoying what we see, is a pretty normal part of being human. When does it turn to lechery though? I guess when it's obtrusive, and clearly unwelcome by whoever we're admiring.

With straight guys I guess there's always that little bit of fear, that if we find them sexy, maybe they could find men sexy too, and then their whole world would come crashing down around them. Not to mention the idea that it's ok for them to look on with lust, but not for anyone else.

Just because we enjoy the view doesn't mean we want to buy the property guys. You do it, you look, you leer, you think lecherous thoughts of those pretty girls and what you'd like to do to them - so don't be surprised that we do the same thing to you and your mates as well.

Let's talk about sex, baby...

2009-06-08T18:25:00.002-07:00

Let's talk about you and me. Or, more generally, all of us fags out there in the wide world.

Gay men have a reputation, deserved or not, for being sexually adventurous, and for having way more sex than straights. Just how far this reputation matches reality is hard to say. There is certainly more than a grain of truth to it, although not a few gay men do lead dull suburban lives just like so many straights.

But overall, I'd argue, we have historically been more sophisticated and wide-ranging in our sexual behaviour than not. After all, it was, and is still, easy for two guys to get together for nothing more than a shared orgasm. No worries about pregnancy and marriage, just a bit of fun between consenting adults. Or even a group of consenting adults. Or two bored consenting adults filling in 15 minutes of lunch break.

And the bigger the city, the more developed, the more sophisticated the range of venues, types and activities that are available. Let's face it - Amsterdam is to Auckland as Auckland is to Twizel. Gay men know their bodies intimately, all the bits that nice suburban straights think of as "yucky" we take in our stride, as it were.

And even if the urge to get out and spread your stuff around does lessen as we age, there is always a new generation coming through, who were as we once were: Young, dumb and full of cum.

I do hope, however, that they aren't full of the shame that so many of us used to have. Because shame is the big killer around sex. It robs it of joy. It shows a viewpoint that is "sex-negative" as they say now. The body, sex, bodily pleasures, all become suspect in this view, and something to be disciplined instead of enjoyed.

Shame does get very hard for those of us living with HIV (I tried to write a column that doesn't bring HIV in, honestly...) . Shame, fear, self-loathing, a sense of being dirty and somehow wrong. Not to mention completely sexually unattractive. And from my observations, the more deeply religious the childhood background, the more shame and sense of sin that comes to the surface.

But we HIV+ poofs can have, and deserve to have just as rich and satisfying a sex life as anyone else. Living with HIV does not mean that we must now automatically commit to a life of celibacy. This has long been one of the core claims that AIDS activists have made. We are still human. We are still hot. We are still shaggable. We are still lovable.We are still horny.

And we have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

Yet so many of us act as though we do. So many HIV+ guys are terrified of admitting their status, of the stigma that goes with the diagnosis. And I understand, that stigma is real. But I suggest the only was we are going to get over it, or get our peers over it really, is to be more visible. The number of HIV+ gay men is going up every year. Your chances of coming across one of us (pun intended) are higher than ever. Yet so many of us are paralysed with fear over rejection, over labels, over that sense that we have somehow done wrong by becoming HIV+. We haven't done anything wrong. In fact, we have nothing to be ashamed of. It's a bummer, it's shitty, it's not what you'd want, but it's nothing to be ashamed of either.

The more visible those of us are with HIV, I think the better things will be. Think of the Mental Health Foundation's "Like Minds" campaign, or the brilliant and public campaign that Positive Women ran last year. Visibility, when you're ready, helps: shame and hiding cripple us.

And so back to sex. And the recent discussions around the responsibilities of poz guys to disclose their status every time. The idea that it is the responsibility of poz men to always disclose is superficially tempting, but I think ultimately self-defeating. So many guys with the virus simply don't know they have it. If you get men making their sexual choices along the lines of "He told me so he must be neg" they will have plenty of opportunity to increase thier risks of infection. Far better to leave the brutal but simple message we have: "Use a condom and lube every time".

Because, we will continue to have sex, poz and neg men alike. Some will disclose, most will not. Many simply won't know. But if we all wrap it up, we can all have fun safely. And that beats the alternative.

You've Got to Have Friends

2009-05-07T18:09:00.000-07:00

One of my oldest friends, Paul, in Sydney, sent me an invite to his 50th. Luckily I was able to go. But 50! I can remember going to friends' 21sts, 30ths, 40ths but this is the first 50th I've been asked to. And my own 50th is a few years off yet, but I am looking forward to it. I guess the oldest gay friend I have is in his 70s, and the youngest in his teens: I enjoy having that range of people and views in life.

But it made me think about how long we've known each other - it'll be about 30 years now. We met when we were both going to Auckland Uni, he was a couple of years ahead of me. He was flatting up the road from my family home, and I can't quite remember now how we met. All I know is he forms part of a core group of my dearest and oldest friends. When we meet up again it's always just so easy and warm and funny and joyful. He's a great guy. 30 years is along time to know someone, especially from our generation when so many of us died so young. We're lucky we're both still standing, and even still dancing at times.

Then he moved over to Sydney, as so many of us do, and has stayed there ever since. In fact a lot of my oldest friends live overseas, Australia, the UK, and the USA account for most of them, but I have others in Brasil, in Turkey, in Italy and France. It makes it it cheaper when you travel that's for sure. But old friends are about much more than just cheap beds when you're out around the world. There is something to having known someone for years and years, even when you don't see each other as often as you'd like, that makes life richer.

I know it's been said before, but gay men tend to create our own family groups, especially if we felt our own families weren't able to support us the way we thought we needed: it seems to be a common feature of gay life around the globe. And I think a lot of gay men have a talent for friendship, we're forced to really, because of the ways we socialise and how wider society views us. We seek out allies, we form networks - and we're damn good at it. You can tell how good the networks are by the way news moves through them, suddenly people are linking over crises or celebrations, word gets round.

It's not uncommon in our world to fuck, then to discover that you like the stranger in your bed and become friends, but in my experience once the friendship is real I find it nearly impossible to go back to a sexual relationship. I can't combine the two, though I know other guys who have no trouble doing so. For me the friendship becomes more important than the sex - you can always get sex, but you can't always get a good friend - so I tend to take my mates out of my sex life.
You don't always have to stay in close touch with old friends - often you reach a stage where the contact might be minimal on a day to day basis, but when you meet up again it's just like you saw each other yesterday. I guess for me that is the sign of a deep and easy friendship - the way it all just flows and picks up again. I can think of about a dozen people like that in my life, and I think I'm lucky to have that number. Of course the internet and cell phones have made it so much easier. Where we used to have to sit down and write a letter, or budget an international phone call, now I can send a text to mate in London, or check out their facebook page or drop a quick email and it is so much easier to stay connected.

Even here in Auckland I still often hang out with guys I've known since I was in my teens or 20s, as well as more recent friends. I'm glad I'm still making new friends too.

You know about their history over decades, you have shared experiences, some good, a few bad. You understand how they think, how they move, why they do certain things, and they know the same about you.

Make friends, treasure them, and you'll have something wonderful in your life.

A History of Violence

2009-04-08T18:06:00.000-07:00

I was talking with various friends the other night in the bar, and the topic of abuse and violence in gay relationships came up. I was amazed at how widespread it is. Some guys viewed it as an inevitable part of men being together, and not too damaging. Others were less sanguine about it.
For me, violence in a relationship would equal the automatic end of it. It's over. Locks changed. Police called. It's just not acceptable for me. And then later this week I was talking with someone else and he told me of being in a violent realtionship when he was younger. I still just have this visceral reaction - you leave if he hits you - it's that simple. Easy to say I know, but I think that's how I'd react.

But violence and abuse can take many forms, it doesn't just have to be physical. Emotional and mental violence, manipulation, guilt, insults and undermining can also be powerfully aggressive ways to attack the person you're with, the person you're supposed to love and who's supposed to love you back. And emotional violence can be harder to counter, it can be passed off as "Just joking" . Constant lying, deceit, can also be seen as a deliberate act of abuse, something that will hurt the other person, and is equally shameful.

I had a relationship that turned out to be built completely on lies. The guy was leading a double life. He was, and is, a shit. I was astounded when I talked to others to discover that my experience was not that uncommon. I can't say it was hundreds of guys, but far more than I'd expected reported a similar experience. Men who present a charming front, who seem to be so wonderful and loving, but then, when it all crumbles, reveal their true nature. And usually not a hint of regret.

We have another form of violence as well, that combines physical harm with lies. That is the act of lying to someone about being HIV+ and then luring them into having unprotected sex, pretending to love them, manipulating them, and when they eventually find out they are infected, promising to still be there for them, even though they're infected. It is disgusting, it is criminal, and it is intolerable, but it happens. I'm not talking about two guys getting a bit out of it and forgetting to use a rubber, I'm talking about HIV+ men who deliberately enticing someone into their lives with the aim of getting them infected. They exist, unfortunately. You only need one or two to produce a rash of new infections. Unless someone complains though, very little can be done to stop them.

So then there is the added burden of dealing with a new diagnosis, discovering the man you thought loved you in fact has betrayed you on the most fundamental levels, shortened your life-expectancy by 20 or so years at least, and left you not knowing where to turn or what to do. That is a real act of life-destroying violence.

I know that a few years ago there was research being carried out into aspects of sexual violence in gay male realtionships, but, if I recall my facts correctly, the researcher ended up finding the stories too traumatic to continue (apologies if I have that wrong).

I don't really know how to view all this. Is it internalised homophobia ? Perhaps in some cases but I doubt that explains every case. Is it something inherently masculine? Again, I don't think that stacks up - I've heard too many reports of the same behaviour in lesbian relationships. I do think part of it comes from the way NZ is actually quite a violent society. But I don't know what the answer is. That doesn't mean we shouldn't stop asking the questions.

And if you're in a violent abusive relationship, you don't need to be. You don't need to stay there. I'd suggest calling OUTline on 0800 688 5463, or one of the other help lines such as lifeline.
We have enough in our lives to put up with from the straight world - when those who are closest to us, who are supposed to love us abuse us, then we have to bring this out in the open, and get them out of our lives. Abuse is not acceptable or normal ina loving relationship, in fact it shows the realtionship is anything but loving.

We don't have to take it.

HIV & Me

2009-03-15T15:06:00.000-07:00

I was having "the talk" with a young gay man recently. Trying to make sure he looked after himself, explaining about how HIV works, how much it sucks to have it etc, and after a bit he said to me:
"But you've had it for years and you're fine!"

It was one of those moments, when you think "Arggghhh!"

Yes, I am living well. Yes, compared to where I was 10 - 15 years ago, I feel like the Six Million Dollar Man. I never thought I'd be alive at this stage of my life, and neither did my Drs. In the mid 90s I nearly died. I was in and out of hospital with PCP and other nasty conditions. My body weight dropped down to 50 kgs and I'm in the mid 80s now, where I should be.

I can remember one of the worst nights in hospital when they were trying to get my temperature down, and I had my hands in basins of ice water, a fan blowing chilled air over me. I was delirious. I couldn't get out of bed to shit. I couldn't move. I was weak, powerless, and scared. I'd tried acupncture, Chinese herbs, all sorts of alternative meds and they did nothing. At that time Western Medicine didn't do anything much either, not until the new drugs that have saved my life and so many others'.

I spent weeks and weeks in Herne Bay House, no longer sick enough for hospital, but so unwell I couldn't walk down the corridor to the kitchen, and it wasn't that long a corridor. Lying in my bed there with an oxygen bottle attached to me - not fun. Then I'd be sent back to hospital for something else. Then I'd be back at the House. I'd seen other friends die there. People died while I was there. I was sure I would too.I had my funeral planned. I was angry - so angry, with everything and everyone. I can remember that anger so clearly. Cold, intense and uncomprehending.

I was able to change my attitude, over time. Now I love my life. But I know how lucky I am. So many of the men I loved died in the worst days of the plague, before the new drugs came out in the mid 90s. They changed everything. from getting ready to die, I had to get ready to live.
And I think I've done a pretty good job of it since then. And HIV still affects my life every single day. I have to take my pills regularly. At first I was taking 47 a day, and it didn't leave time for much else. Some had ot be taken with food, some you had to wait 2 hours after you'd eaten and take, everything was measured for me by the medication. And it still is. If I go out to dinner I have to remember to take my pills with me, or go home early. Luckily my latest drug regime is for some reason easier on my stomach. In the past I always carried a spare pair of underwear in my bag, "just in case" and I needed them quite often. I knew, and still know, where every available toilet is on my regular walking routes, but I no longer seem to need to rush into them in the way I used to.

And as much as I value the drugs for all they've done for me, I know that they are also taking a toll on my body, on my heart, my liver and kidneys. I have friends who have had their body shapes changed by the drugs, deposits of fat around their necks and shoulders, thier cheeks wasted away. HIV meds do strange things to body fat. And I know people for whom the drugs just don't work. They are a tiny minority, but like any medication, there are some people who just don't respond.

Emotionally HIV has changed me as well. I still find it hard to trust that I have a future, I still have a little voice saying "This could all go back to how it was" but I try and stifle that. Because focussing on it does me no good at all. Life is for living, and for enjoying where you can.
Men react very differently to you when you tell them you HIV. As much as they say they understand safe sex, it is still a deal breaker for many. And I suppose I hold myself back as well due to this.

So there is the paradox - a young gay man says "You've had it for years - you're fine!" and how do I convey to him that in fact I am, but I'm not.

In fact, once you get HIV, it's like adding a tiny drop of ink to bottle of water - you can't see the drop once it's added, but it's there forever and you can never get it back. My life has been altered beyond recognition, my plans, my hopes, all have been shifted and changed because of this. I hate it, although I don't hate what I've learnt from it, but it's a really shitty way to learn a lesson like this. I don't recommend it to anyone.

Realistically, HIV is here to stay. It is highly unlikely that we will ever live in a world without it. So we have to find ways to live with it. And I'm glad I have. But I wish I hadn't had to do all this. I wish I'd been able to lead the life I thought was mine.

So never ever think that just because so many of us are living better with it these days that it isn't an issue. It is, it imposes a huge burden, physically, mentally and emotionally on us all.
Yes, compared to where I was, I'm fine. I'm alive. I never thought I'd see in 2000, now I'm pretty sure I'll get to 2010, and beyond. Life's weird. I didn't do anything special to get here, I'm not a saint, most people with HIV aren't, we're just ordinary people who learn how to cope. I probably won't die from an AIDS related ilness, but from something brough on by the medications themselves - I'm aware of this, but it is still so much better than it was before.

I think for me one of the worst things is the amount of control over my life I've lost.

But this reaction - it threw me - what do we do? Do we downplay just how well most of us are doing these days? Do we cease celebrating the good things that have come our way in an effort to dissuade young people from putting themselves at risk? I think now - I'm bloody happy I've got to where I am, and I can't be responsible for the ignorance of others. I intend to enjoy what life I have left with gusto.

The hard thing is that to some extent, this young man was right. Yes, I've got this virus in my body, but I work, I travel, I go out, I fuck, I have a happy and interesting life. Having HIV for most people today really isn't anything like as bad as it once was. But that's not the point, is it? With all the improvements in our health and treatment, it still places a huge burden one you.

Please - Don't get it. Yes, we look so much better, and live so much better - but believe me it still sucks. Please, look after yourselves out there and don't add to the stats.

Random Thoughts

2009-02-24T21:38:00.000-08:00

Young men often do not realise the dazzling power of their beauty, of a smile, or of a forearm carelessly draped on a thigh. Possessed of such unwitting power, I can’t help but admire it. I once had it. I didn’t know I had it though. I doubt they do either.

I would love to fuck Robert Downey Jr.

And Sean Penn.

Or get them to fuck me. Getting spit-roasted is always fun.

I’ve been thinking about the punk/disco wars in Auckland of the late 70s, early 80s a bit. It was a real mark of who you were, how you saw yourself, depending on what look you took, what music you listened to. I remember Ruff (RIP – burnt to death in a fire in London rescuing her Chanel suits -seriously) going to a concert in just a black garbage bag, torn fishnets and black stilettos, and lots of makeup. I wore makeup, eye shadow streaked on my cheek, and my hair was high and hard. There were fights outside Babes, one of the main discos, in Eliot St? I can’t remember. We sneered at Billy Idol for being a fake punk. We loathed Abba. We wore op-shop 60s black suits, with narrow ties, and listened to sad serious music. Now I love nearly all music. Funny the natural fascism of youthful bonding and protection.

I’m old enough to remember hair mousse in a can as a new product.

I had my hair dyed black with pink stripes for a while, and wore a woman’s black lame suit jacket on top of my jeans. Then I dyed my hair bright green (my hairdresser, Sheridan, stole the Krazy Kolor dye from her flatmate’s stock) with a big floppy pink triangle hanging down to my nose, a triangular fringe of cerise.

I can remember the sudden advent of DJs as celebrities in their own right, not just record spinners.

I remember staggering through the streets and alleys of Manhattan in my black leather jeans, my Docs, a white T and a black leather jacket, going to the Mineshaft after being at the Spike. I remember staggering home reeking of all sorts of fluids, amyl and that general raunchy smell of sex. I remember dancing under the stars at the Saint, totally off my face on coke and God knows what else, surrounded by Gods posing as men, and loving it.

I remember when I was first in Turkey, being in this town called Malatya, and hooking up with this mad Irish guy who lived there, and turned out to be gay. We went on a picnic, to a waterfall, the water pounding down the cliffs into a big pool, with families sitting around, cooking shish kebabs, eating melon, drinking tea, some quietly having a raki, people talking and sharing food. And then we decided to climb the waterfall. Going up wasn’t too bad, but coming down, I panicked about half way down this crumbly cliff and froze. It seemed like hours but I guess it was just a few minutes of complete and utter terror. Then I got down, and no one else had seen how freaked out I was. Lesson: People often never know what’s going in our lives, even though to us it is amazing. And I never got to fuck the Irish guy. But he was hot.

Whatever happened to the smell of amyl in gay clubs? It used to be so pervasive, now it’s so rare.

I love libraries. I remember being the library at Auckland University, before the year started. Such a geek I went in early to explore, especially the library, where I looked up all the gay books. They were in one shelf, a tiny group now compared to the metres and metres of shelf space we take up. Anyway, I think I was looking at something on Gay American History. I was amazed – here I was at 17 and there were serious academic books about being gay that were positive, uplifting, showing wee actually had a history and therefore a culture. So there I am, enthralled, I stop to think, look up and then down the aisle. There’s this guy standing there. I look down at the book again then look up – yes he does have his cock flopped out ! And it’s huge ! Or it is to me at that age. He looks at me, I blush, put the book back, and follow him to the toilets for a great fuck. I love libraries.

I have been hit on by 24 year-olds twice since New Year. I’m not complaining, just puzzled. Aren’t I too old for them? The lust of the young is so refreshing to be around. They have so much careless energy. But it always takes me a while to figure out they’re actually after me, not just politely chatting to me. I’m slow on the uptake at times.

I once spent a night on a fisherman’s boat on the Golden Horn, in Istanbul, with four fishermen. I left a little after dawn. You fill in the blanks.

I have a remarkable knack for falling for the wrong men. You’d think I’d learn, but no, not yet anyhow. But I’m cool with it; I know myself, warts and all. I have fun.

I remember being young: inside I still feel it, but my body doesn’t seem to agree.

Moving Like Angels, Thinking Like Devils

2009-01-26T00:10:00.001-08:00

I seem to have rediscovered dancing. It’s something I used to do so much, when I was young (er?) . I could spend hours on the floor, working up a sweat, just letting rip and having a great time with friends and strangers. But then, as I got older, I seemed to have less interest in it. I’d stand around the walls and watch other men dance. I’m not quite sure why that happened. But I seem to be back into it.

And lets face it, dancing is a lot like sex with (some of) your clothes on, so while I have been having sex, it was puzzling me a little that I wasn’t dancing in the way I used to. Was I too old? Too unfit? Too ugly to hang out with the shirtless gods on the floor?

I remember going to dances at Auckland Uni in 1979 when I was 18. We’d have a room at the top floor of the student union, where Shadows is now I think, and someone would bring in a stereo from home (seriously) and others would bring records, and we’d dance happily thinking it was just great. The unsophisticated fun of youth. And watching men back from overseas to see the latest moves. God when I was 18 men who were 24 seemed so old and cool. The punk/disco wars were still on at the time, and there could be a little tension when the style changed.

The Aquarius (later The Staircase) was still in Fort St, and I would spend hours there with friends, having to leap up and get on the floor at the opening bars of a favourite song. I remember dancing my arse off to Blue Monday in Alfies.

New York was where I saw the most spectacular clubs in the 80s. The Saint stands out as the most extravagant, beautiful space filled with beautiful men. They had installed a full planetarium projector so suddenly you would look up and think you were dancing under the stars. Hundreds, thousands of sexy, sweaty beautiful men dancing with our shirts off. It was great. That sense of being part of a group, part of a, dare I use the word? part of a community.There was the Limelight, in a big deconsecrated church just over the road from where I lived, and also the Area, though the last was straighter and way more fashionable. All palaces of indulgence and fun, music carefully choreographed, bring the crowd up and up on waves of more and more excitement, then just when you thought it couldn’t go any higher, it did, and there would be an ecstatic crowd, almost like being in an evangelical church service, hands in the air, men simultaneously being in their own world of dance and also connecting with all the ones nearby.

The sheer joy of being in a room full of men, all dancing together, being nice to each other, sharing space, acknowledging strangers with a few moves in their direction when you like how they move, the smiles and good will. It’s fantastic.Whether it’s with 20 or 5,000, when it works, it’s just great. And part of what makes it great is the feeling of sex, of sensuality, of being connected, and all the potential that goes with it.

I’ve spent some great nights on the floor at Urge too, I used to go with a circle of friends, now mostly dead, and we’d dance sexy dirty dances, Dominic would inevitably ‘lose’ all his clothes by the end of the night, dancing in a leather harness and nothing else, Charlie would be his elegantly sleazy self, reeking of sex.

But as that group dwindled, I think I sort of stopped dancing. Not in my head, but I just lost something.

But lately, it’s been coming back. Rather reluctantly at first, I hit the floor at Urge a few weeks ago with a friend who insisted and we just clicked into it the way you do sometimes, but in a way I hadn’t for a few years, and I realised “Hey, I’m dancing again and loving it!” All those voices that say “You’re getting too old, your body isn’t hot enough to take your shirt off, you look silly” they seem to have shut up. So what if my middle aged spread wobbles while I dance?

And last night, again at Urge (no I’m not running their PR, but it does function as my other living room) I was struck by the power of being in a room full of gay men, gay men having fun, a sweatbox with men of all shapes and sizes, poor, rich, gym toned and gym avoiders, HIV+ and HIV - some good enough to be in porn, most of us not, age range from 20s to 60s I’d guess, most shirts off, moving like angels and thinking like devils.

There is something potent about that sense of masculine joy and exuberance, of ease and comfortable togetherness that struck me last night with force, and me, I’m glad I’ve found my dancing shoes again. And the ghosts I dance with are happy.

What Comes Before a Fall?

2008-12-22T19:35:00.000-08:00

here’s a an episode of The Simpsons when a Gay Pride parade goes by and the marchers chant “We’re here, we’re queer! Get used to it!” and Lisa shouts back “We are used to it! You do this every year!”

The entire “Pride” concept is simply dated - it’s too last century, too 80s, too pre Law Reform. The choice of this name for the replacement committee for Hero really makes me wonder what they think they are doing. If the Hero brand is now poison, as it seems to be, then just what makes anyone think that “Pride” is going to be all fresh and new?

“Pride” was never a big movement in Auckland in the past - there used to be those sad little “coming out” marches down Ponsonby Rd in the 90s - and really, could you find anywhere less offensive to gay pride than Ponsonby Rd? The Pride Centre - a debacle, and also a concept rooted in the politics of 30 years ago.

Have you seen the logo ? It is simply embarrassing. It’s tired, cliched, yawningly unoriginal and dull. Which is most likely what this so-called “Pride” thingamy will be unless they can get some interesting young minds involved (Try the SOHOMO crowd). If not, we will be stuck with the suburban bedint excitement of Mt Albert matrons singing along to Bucks Fizz and thinking it’s the height of gay sophistication.

Pride is nice, Pride is inoffensive, Pride is normal, Pride is suburban, boring, and dated.

Heroic Gardens was going on anyway. So was the BGO, even if it’s on a stupid day this year due to a cockup with dates. There hasn’t been a decent Hero Party since the one in the Town Hall, and that was years ago, so I don’t think anyone really had hopes around that. Other events would have happened. So what is the purpose of the Pride committee? It’s hard to make out.

Auckland is the biggest, most sophisticated city in the country, with by far the biggest gay population. We have a wealth of interesting, diverse, creative and intelligent people in our midst. They don’t appear to be on the committee though. And I’ve already heard a few of them express their unease over this whole concept. Let’s hope they can be encouraged to join in and make this actually happen, not leave us with an tired, flacid nothing.

Me - I’m thinking of throwing a “Humiliation” party .

Be Careful What You Wish For...

2008-11-23T19:37:00.000-08:00

So we have a new government. Democracy in action, messy, imperfect, but it still beats all the alternatives (except for me being Dictator of the World!).

We now have openly gay and lesbian MPs all across the Parliament, from the Greens to National. Not quite every party, but all the biggest ones. Even our Attorney-General, a National MP, is an out gay man.

What I find both bizarre and wonderful is that no-one has commented on his sexuality. Have we perverts become so mainstream now that when a right-wing Government appoints an open homo to one of the most important positions in Parliament there is no response? And what does this signal? What does it mean for us?

In some ways, it is the culmination of what “we” fought for – the right to be accepted for who we are as full and equal human beings, regardless of our sexuality. In other ways, it the opposite. Let me explain.

There have basically been two streams to the movement for our rights over the last 100 years or so. The one with the longer pedigree is the less radical, simply calling for us to be able to live our lives without the fear of legal persecution. There were some variants to this, with some asking for us to be positively protected, but in general the goal of this movement was toleerance and assimilation, not revolution.

The other stream was distinctly revolutionary and radical in its outlook and goals. This strand is rooted in the classical radical idea that we need a complete revolution in society, and that the emancipation of same-sex attracted people is part of the struggle to free the oppressed all over the globe, which will only be truly achieved through the eradication of Capitalism. Rather than assimilation, it sought a radical re-ordering of the entire social fabric. In its latest guise it has come to us as “Queer Theory”, which made a number of grossly inflated claims as to the importance of sexual identity. It is this last stance that sees all those of us who are outside the norms of mainstream sexual practice and identity as having a common ground to stand on and a common enemy to fight against: heterosexist patriarchal Capitalist society. And this common oppression is supposed to help us form our community.

What happens to that community when the oppression lifts?

What we now have as a result of our efforts for law reform etc are gay conservative politicians who are able to be out and by doing so cause no reaction. We have become normal, no longer exceptional. OK, for NZ, for us to be truly normalised we will need an out All Black whose last minute actions cause us to win the Rugby World Cup. Then we will be unassailable.

This, however, is not the revolutionary result Gay Liberation was fighting for. Instead of working for radical change, we now have an out gay Attorney General who, it could be argued, is working for those forces that the radical wing would say continue to oppress us. But it cannot be denied that the fact the lesbians, gay men, and transsexuals can all be elected to our Parliament now without causing much concern, and this surely is a positive thing. It is a distinct improvement on the days, not that far gone, when being sexually different in any way was illegal, when even the whisper of an MP perhaps being gay was enough to destroy a career. If you are a teenager wrestling with your sexual identity, the very fact that being gay has become so much less of an issue must be good.

What I suspect this assimilation, this normalisation of us as people will mean is this: the importance of sexual identity as a unifying bond that forms a community will weaken even more over time. Our gay community was at its most productive, its strongest, its most challenging, its most exciting and vibrant when we were banded together in our gay ghettos, fighting for our rights, fighting against HIV and the prejudice it engenders and living lives that placed us on the outer of the mainstream. Now many of those ghettos have lost their hearts to property developers and gentrification. Now we are legal and protected, the impetus to band together for political rights has largely gone. I know gay men who voted for every major party. I know gay men who are legally coupled and who live lives of happy obscurity in the suburbs. They did protest once - now they see no need. And many younger gay men coming into the world just don't see the need for "community" that we all once did.

The promise that sexual identity would be a major force in radicalising the world seems to have failed. Instead we have become more and more just a part of the wallpaper. What I think we will see more and more, is that gay men and lesbians will be able to come out, and to be ourselves, and excite little interest. Without a common enemy or cause to unite us, instead of forming a vaguely coherent group, we will stay far closer to our initial social positions. If you are born into a network drawn largely from urban Maori then this will be your main point of reference. Likewise if you are born into the white middle class, it will be this, rather than your sexual identity that will be the main part of your identity. The need for us to exist as a distinct social entity will lessen and fade.

Now I am not for one minute denying the difficulties, emotional and personal, and the prejudice that many of us still have to face, as well as the violence that seems to permeate so much of New Zealand society, but there has been a qualitative change in how we live, how we are perceived, and how we get to interact with our society that I think this appointment to the Attorney-General’s office highlights.And of course, little old New Zealand is not the world - what has happened here is perhaps only comparable to the more liberal parts of Europe - I'm not saying this is the situaiton everywhere.

But the question remains: Is this really what we all wanted?

Puppy Love

2008-11-07T16:10:00.000-08:00

We call them, only half-jokingly, our "fur children" . Dogs, cats, whatever pet we have, they enrich our lives.

When I was recuperating from being at death's door in the mid 90s, one of my brothers bought a puppy, much to his wife's horror, with 2 kids under 5 at the time, so I ended up looking after her for 3 or 4 days a week. I took her to obedience class. She made me get up every day and take her for walks, morning and night, summer and winter. In short, even though she adored my brother, she also bonded with me.

I seriously believe that having her in my life helped me in my recovery immensely. It stopped me focussing on myself and my troubles so much, something that's so easy to do. She made me laugh, doing silly dog things. She made me exercise. Having to keep up with a happy, energetic young Doberman cross is bound to make you fitter.

She had "4-paw drive" fast as lightning, up and down hills, running like crazy then stopping to see where I was. Rushing back, as if to say "Come on! It's FUN!" And she did make me happy and give me such a sense of fun. Constantly throwing a stick or a ball is goodfor building up your upper body strength after you've wasted away to nearly nothing.

I was very poor then, living on the Invalids' Benefit. So in winter I'd go to parks and collect pine cones and branches for the fire place. She'd come along too, happy as could be, whatever I was foing was fine, she just wanted to do it too.

And the thing with dogs is they give you unconditional love. Whatever you do is right in their eyes. They trust completely. They love us. And having that unconditional love when I was feeling so sick, so ugly, so diseased, and thought I would be dead before 2000 came in was hugely valuable.

We had our routines.When it was bed time I'd turn off th lights and she'd be on her blanket. As soon as I was in my room I'd hear her jump onto the couch. It was one of those things - we both knew but just decided not to talk about it. In the morning she'd come and wake me up, and after I'd let her out she'd come back into my room and jump up on the bed for a cuddle.

I needed a regular afternoon nap in those days, I was just so weak and tired all the time. She'd come and lie on the floor by the couch I was on, then she'd quietly climb up and curl up at my feet, after giving a little lift of her top lip to apologise "I know I'm not supposed to be on the furniture but..." Of course I always let her stay. I loved having her so close.

Once when I had been readmitted to Herne Bay House my brother brought her to visit me. It was her first time there, and as soon as she came into my room, where I was lying in bed, she started to whimper with excitement and jumped straight up on the bed to see me. I felt loved. And I looked after her as well as I could.

She loved the beach, she loved swimming, she loved learning new tricks, and she was fast and clever, and at times cunning, as Dobermans tend to be.

And yesterday she had to be put to sleep. Too many old age problems, enlarged spleen, cancers, cataracts, hip dysplacia, and worst of all - she'd stopped eating. Just suddenly in the last week, it had all come to a head.

My brother was distraught, as was my niece. And after the news sank in, so was I. I know it's sentimental, but I put Henry Gross's song "Shannon" on repeat. It's a song about his family's Golden Retriever dying.Guaranteed tear-jerker. And I cried.

She was so much a part of my life, and really, a part of my healing. She didn't know or care that I had HIV, that I had to take 40 something pills a day, that I was sick. She was calm, steady, and loving, when I was too tired she'd sleep. She was there. I owe her a huge debt. It's so painful to have that responsibility, of having to kill something you love and one that loves you back so much. It's the Devil's bargain we enter whenever we have a pet with us. The joy, happiness, comfort and love they give us means that one day we will most likely have to decide when to kill them. But that's our duty too.

Bye my darling Keo, thank you for all you gave me. I don't know if I'd be here without you.