Gay Rights and Civil Wrongs

Why are fags up in arms about marriage rights while ignoring the civil wrongs occurring daily within their own community?

Why is there moral outrage toward those who oppose gay rights but little reaction to the blatant racism that's become so acceptable online among gay men? Where's the moral outrage over the incessant use of capitalized phrases, like, WHITES AND LATINS ONLY, NO BLACKS, NO ASIANS?

Where's the moral outrage over the rise in HIV rates among young gay men? Why aren't gay advocates going apeshit because a whole new generation of fun boys is barebacking their little hearts out without a clue about safe sex?

Do gays have too many gay weddings to plan and gay-wedding bans to protest to care about civil wrongs? Where's the call for more sex education and less racism within the gay community? Right here at Randy Boyd's Blocks.

The Hypocrisy of Gay Civil Rights
Poll Dancing with Blacks and Gays
Racial Profiling for Love

Randy Cheerleader

Click here to email author Randy Boyd

Thank Dog

Thank you, Boomer Dino Boyd, for ten years of Thanksgivings (and counting), and for so much more.

Love, Daddy

Note 2 Self: Next time, write about Daddy the obsessive photographer and our six million pics in When In Doubt, Pet the Dog, my periodic memoir or journal or blog thingy about my life with Boomer, aka Phat Dog, aka Boo, aka Daddy's Special Buddy, aka this author's best friend.

AIDS Monsters: A Menace to America's Sex Life

Living with AIDS in America is like starring in your very own monster movie. You get to play the sick and depraved villain, while everyone else is so afraid of you, they ignore you on the Internet and avoid you at all costs in real life.

The innocent victims in your monster movie are the townfolk who happen to be the gay males living in your village. These men are terrified of you. They've heard rumors about your kind. They've been warned by their elders about people like you.

The elders didn't give them much advice, just: stay away from those ghastly beasts, don't have sex with them, and don't try to understand them or figure out how they got that way. AIDS monsters are just plain wrong. And bad. Stay away from the AIDS monster, kids! Make sure you stay clean!

"Anyone can become an AIDS monster."

And the townfolk got the message. They vowed to stay away from HIV-Poz People. They put up warning signs, like CLEAN and DISEASE-FREE ONLY, which must mean that you, the AIDS monster, are dirty and disease-ridden.

But you don't feel dirty and disease-ridden. You, the monster of your own movie, feel misunderstood. You want to befriend the townfolk, maybe even find true love with one of them. You want to tell the village that it's possible to touch an AIDS monster and AIDS won't rub off. You want to show the world how people with HIV/AIDS can have safe sex with people without HIV/AIDS and the clean and disease-free can walk away ... well, still clean and disease-free.

You want to explain to the townfolk that anyone can become an AIDS monster, if anyone has unsafe sex, even with so-called neg people. You want to explain that everyone can avoid becoming an AIDS monster if everyone has safer sex with both poz and neg people.

But the townfolk, the gay males in the village, they turn a deaf ear and blind eye to the AIDS monster. They prefer ignorance. They'd rather reserve their compassion for others. Indeed, the townfolk would rather AIDS monsters were a thing of the past.

But you are an AIDS monster living in the present, and there are countless more monsters just like you living in America. And each dirty and disease-ridden soul belonging to the Poz People is starring in his or her own monster movie in the minds of the Neg People. Why else would so many Neg People be so afraid of touching those who aren't CLEAN and DISEASE-FREE? UB2.

Read AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a blog story told backwards in a car driving forward. Fun for the whole family, featuring the exclusive Interview with the AIDS Monster!

So I Think I Can Cheerlead

How did a black kid from an Indianapolis sports family end up on the front page of his hometown newspaper when the USC Trojans played the Indiana Hoosiers in football? Find out in So I Thought I Could Dance.

The First Lie About Me, Told @ Birth

The Faggot knows exactly who he is now. You were right, world, when you called me a faggot. Scott (last name withheld), you were right the day you called me out in high school. My snickering fellow yell fish at USC, laughing at the faggy way the new black yell leader claps, you were also right. All the white jock gods I chased after for half my life, begging you to see something good within me, you were dead on. I'm a faggot.

I'm a faggot all right. Probably have been since the day I came outta my mother's womb. Not because I was born gay. Oh, no, I don't believe in all that “I was born this way” crap. Were you born liking pizza? Were you born liking the Boston Red Sox? Were you born liking pussy or dick? No. You were born.

You were born. And your dad loved the Sox, even dressed you up in their logo.

You were born. And your family loved to order pepperoni pizza every Friday night. And you adored those nights, the Disney movies, the snacks, the laughter. It was a nice change of pace from the wife beating and child abuse that headlined the rest of the week.

You were born. And when your dick started to get hard, it ping-ponged you around to different people and circumstances that showed you the most productive and least disruptive way to get your nut. And so you stayed in that lane on the sexual highway, that is, until you decided to switch lanes and “see what it's like down that road.”

I was born. To a family where the always lying and cheating father told the eager little five-year-old daughter that her dream had come true, that instead of another baby brother (she already had two of those), she was finally getting her wish because mommy and the stork had brought home ... a baby girl.

I was born a baby girl to a family that now had two boys and two girls, or so thought my happy five-year-old sister. That's because I was a born to a father who, in our childhood, told more lies than he ever cared to correct or remember.

“That explains it," said my sister years later. She was looking down her nose at me from across the kitchen table. Our mother had just told her the story of The First Lie About Me, Told @ Birth. That explains it, said my sister, as in, that explains why her little brother was a cheerleading, Laker-girl-dancing, pom-pom-waiving, soap-opera-diva-loving, youngest-child-whining ... faggot.

My sister should know. She's the one who introduced me to the world of cheerleading one day when we were kids. Good thing she did. My cheer world served as a refuge during my hard time in the war zone called my childhood. Thanks, Sis.

I can express myself this way today because of the dreams I had in childhood, dreams like cheerleading, my education and a strong will to survive beyond the nightmares others have dreamt for me since the day I was born. Yes, lying about a newborn child begets a nightmare. Calling people faggot in high school begets a nightmare. Calling people faggot in college begets a nightmare. Calling people faggot in the adult world begets a nightmare.

The nightmares go on forever, until you begin dreaming that faggots, or fags, or gays, or queers, or homosexuals, or bisexuals, or transsexuals, or heterosexual are neither inherently good nor bad. They just are. Sexual.


Randy Boyd is the author of four novels, several short stories and many essays, all from the unique point of view of a black man who has been living with HIV/AIDS for more than half his life. His novels have been nominated for five Lambda Literary Awards, including his latest release, Walt Loves the Bearcat, a Lambda Literary Award finalist for Best Romance.

Randy's full author bio.

Got Street Cred?

When I walk down the street, very few eyes are open to romantic dreams with someone who has my credentials. What credentials, you ask? Check out the street cred of a black gay author living with AIDS in Update from the Unlovable Nigger Faggot.

The Hypocrisy of Gay Civil Rights

Some homos are comparing the quest for same-sex marriage rights with the civil rights movement of black America in the 1950s and 60s. A recent cover of a gay magazine even declared, Gay is the New Black.

To which this black gay man declares: Pure bullshit.

The battle for civil rights for blacks was waged by every black man, woman and child just by being alive in America. A black person doesn't have to come out to be discriminated against.

The battle for same-sex marriage rights for gays is being waged by people who've made a conscious choice to come out and openly fight for something.

The black civil rights movement was about all blacks overcoming hatred, prejudice and institutionalized racism. In schools. In courts. In government. In the workforce. At the lunch counter. On the bus. In the minds of the America people.

The gay marriage movement is about marriage.

"Never have I encountered more racism than I have in the places gay men frequent, a fact that renders any so-called link to black civil rights laughable."

The battle for civil rights for blacks was waged by black leaders who were trying to lift up every black man, woman and child, so that every black American is afforded a fair and equal shot at the American dream.

The battle for same-sex marriage rights is being waged by (mostly) white men who couldn't care less about lifting up all gay people. Why else would marriage advocates be so silent about the AIDS Epidemic, Part 2. AIDS is back and bigger than ever, but because infection rates are highest among men of color, AIDS is barely on the radar of the (mostly) white men trying to get to the alter.

Black civil rights leaders advocated for black people in all areas of life, including education and health.

Gay marriage rights leaders have done very little to educate gay men about health and safer sex, which is why HIV infection rates are rising alarmingly. Additionally, it's entirely acceptable for HIV-negative gay men to routinely discriminate against HIV-positive men and use inhumane phrases such as BUG-FREE and DISEASE-FREE, ignoring the fact that safe sex puts no one at risk.

The leaders of the black civil rights movement were fighting against WHITES ONLY attitudes, not perpetuating them in ALL CAPS on the Internet (while claiming not be racists).

The leaders of the gay marriage movement are the same gay men who cruise the internet looking for WHITES and LATINS ONLY, or, as often expressed, NO BLACKS, NO ASIANS, NOTHING PERSONAL JUST A PREFERENCE.

If gay rights is akin to civil rights, why does so much blatant racism exist in the gay world? Why do racist ideas, slogans and views go unchecked and unchallenged online, in gay bars, in gay neighborhoods?

"If fags want to compare their journey for civil rights to that of blacks, I suggest fags stop segregating themselves from blacks by declaring WHITES and LATINS ONLY."

Never have I encountered more racism than I have in the places gay men frequent, a fact that renders any so-called link to black civil rights laughable. The fags who are so pissed off at religious blacks for voting down their gay wedding plans are the same fags who use expressions like “I don't burn coal” to tell the world “I don't date blacks.” The homos marching through city streets screaming “no more Mr. Nice Gay” are the same screaming queens who have never been Mr. Nice Gay to black homosexuals.

Sure fags will vote for a black man for president when the planets are aligned right. But when it comes to dating a black man, most fags possess attitudes reminiscent of that old 20th century song and dance: “I don't mind blacks in my neighborhood. Just don't let one of 'em try dating my daughter. It's nothing personal, mind you, just a preference.”

... And if you believe that, I've got a bridge to nowhere to sell you, along with a constitution that promotes equality right alongside slavery.

If fags want to compare their journey for civil rights to that of blacks, I suggest fags stop segregating themselves from blacks by declaring WHITES and LATINS ONLY. And while you're at it, faggots of America, I suggest you also stop using inhumane language like CLEAN and DISEASE-FREE.

Until then, don't expect this dirty and disease-ridden nigger to believe that the majority of homos truly understand the meaning of civil rights, let alone the idea that all men are created equal.

Three Quick Fixes to End America's Financial Crisis

America needs money. The feds are in deep debt, the rich are begging for bailouts, state and local governments are tapped out, the middle class is being foreclosed on, and poor folk are getting a stank-smelling trickle down that feels more like a trickle dump. And we haven't even seen the worst of things to come, so say the so-called experts of the confidence game known as the global economy.

And so because it is my civic duty and moral obligation to my fellow Americans, I offer this very quick and very easy, 3-step solution to ending America's financial meltdown. I don't even necessarily want credit, just for America (and the world) to buy my books, nominated for five Lambda Literary Awards and available wherever books are sold (click on the book covers in the sidebar to purchase them at Amazon.com!) ...

But I digress. Here's the deal, America, take it, and we can all party like it's 1945-2000:

1) Legalize prostitution. The jobs. The businesses created. The associated industries created. The federal income tax revenue. The state tax revenue. The lowering of the street-crime crime rate. The lowering of the jail population. The ability of law enforcement to focus on other, more serious crimes. The list goes on and on.

Think it's impossible, ridiculous and unheard of? Think again. The Catholic Church once sanctioned prostitution and ran the brothels, this at a time when the Church served as a quasi-federal government for much of Europe.

2) Legalize marijuana. The jobs. The businesses created. The associated industries created. The federal income tax revenue. The state tax revenue. The property tax revenue. The lowering of the street-crime crime rate. The lowering of the jail population. The ability of law enforcement to focus on other, more serious crimes. The list goes on and on.

Think it's impossible, ridiculous and unheard of? Think again. Many states have already legalized medical marijuana. Marijuana's not even a drug. Marijuana is an herb, like peppermint, ginger, basil and all the other herbs and spices humans use to enhance their food, their health and their lives.

3) Tax churches. More than ever, America is on its way to living up to the idea that all men are created equal. Now it's time to live up to another idea that Americans are supposed to have fought and died for: separation of church and state. If Congress shall make no law regarding religion, then how about Congress making no laws about religions being exempt from paying taxes? Or are we going to continue this charade called: Our Constitution Says One Thing, But We Actually Practice Something Else Altogether Different?

Think it's impossible, ridiculous and unheard of? Think again. We've lived to see a black man elected president of the United States of America. America can do anything. America can make miracles happen.

Not one single U.S. citizen can see a clear path out of this Pre-Depression we're in, especially in our lifetime. But if we change our thinking about three things, prostitution, marijuana and churches paying taxes, America could shock the shit out of itself, rise from the ashes of greed and excess, and create a stronger, more financially stable land of the free and home of the employed.

Let's do it for our country, America, and make America, America the great once again.

Author's Best Friend

Boomer is this author's most trusted writing assistant. When I write, he sleeps underneath my desk in tummy-rub heaven, thanks to my foot. Sometimes my foot changes rhythms according what I'm writing. When I'm creating a scene full of suspense and action, my foot resembles a windshield wiper on steroids. Boomer pays it no mind, however. He keeps chillaxing and I keep writing, the golden mutt serving as a foot peddle for the mad creator's dream machine.

Note 2 Self: Be sure to include a link so folks can read previous installments of When In Doubt, Pet the Dog, my periodic blog memoir or journal thingy at Randy Boyd's Blocks.

Poll Dancing with Blacks and Gays

From marriage rights to adoption rights, Gay America tanked at the polls in the 2008 Election. The Old World won. The New World lost. America is still a proud and active member of the Flat Earth Society, founded by the kind of thinking that says bad weather is god's wrath.

Why did homos lose? Because black people, the Old World's staunchest supporters, turned out in record numbers to vote for a black president.

Yep, that's right, civil rights for gays was voted down by the descendants of America's slaves. That's because a vast majority of the descendants of America's slaves are still living in a segregated society, where modern-day thinking trickles down almost as ineffectively and inefficiently as modern-day economic wealth.

How in the world can blacks become worldly if the world separates and segregates them? If a ghetto child doesn't get the opportunity to attend college, learn history, develop critical thinking, travel the world and so on, what on earth would make that ghetto child go against the teachings of his church, his neighborhood, his environment?
Some people think affirmative action is unnecessary because nowadays, everybody has a fair shot in life and nobody needs a head start. The day after Emancipation Day, the day Lincoln freed the slaves, there was nothing. Just freedom. No money. No map. No bailout. No welfare. No housing assistance. No reparations. No social security. No disability insurance. No school lunch. No worker's comp. No Section 8 housing. No health care for the bloody, infected whiplashes on your back, given to you earlier that morning because Massa knew this freedom thing might be a-coming and wanted to get in one last session of Beat My Nigger before his gentile Southern lifestyle was gone with the wind.

You're free to go. Now git!

The day after Emancipation Day, there was nothing. Just freedom. And a lot of angry white men with the right to bare arms. Life is not about a head start. Life is about being something better than a slave, like our grandparents' grandparents.

The struggle is over for no one. Not niggers or faggots.

How might black Americans view religion and homosexuality had blacks been given an equal opportunity to integrate themselves into mainstream American society, like say, the poor, niggardly Jewish, Italian and Irish immigrants to America?

In the coverage of the same-sex marriage debate, not one mention was made of the German-American vote on gay marriage. Not one word about the opinions of the newest American immigrants from Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. In fact, tracking polls showed that while most races were roughly evenly split on the marriage debate (half of any race for gay marriage, half of any race against gay marriage), 76% of blacks voted against gay marriage and adoption rights.

Why? To spite gays? Of course not.

Cultural ideas are like modern conveniences or consumer electronics. The early adapters are the very rich. The rich are the first to try most things, then the middle class, then poor folk, all copying the wealthiest among us. (Every dog owner in America is essentially mimicking the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous in the latter part of the Victorian 1800s.) But the evolution of black folk in America has been retarded by racism, and thus most blacks have yet to adapt to this whacky notion that life isn't controlled by a vengeful, homo-hating god.

For the historic 2008 election, the retardation of blacks resulted in the retardation of gay rights. The irony might seem cruel and arbitrary, but there's more to the story. The shocking twist is this: gays, another oppressed minority, are also retarded in their development. Gays are less evolved and more racist than their non-gay counterparts. Gay America possesses a mentality befitting of the ignorant racist ways of the Old South.

Institutionalized racism has migrated online.

Anyone in the world can surf the web and find gay men of all ages and races using the exact same slogans and rhetoric used to segregate blacks in the Old South. Online, the racist minds of countless gay men are transparent and blatant. Gay men's warnings that they prefer WHITES and LATINS ONLY have the same intent as the fire hoses of the 1960s, the ones that tried to keep blacks at bay and extinguish their dreams of a seat at the American table.

Not in my bedroom, oh, no you don't. Oh, and by the way, no offense, it's just a preference.

Makes one wonder if racist gay men are aware of the fact that they're using the exact same words and logic of those who tried to keep blacks from sitting at the same lunch counters, going to the same schools, drinking from the same water fountains, marrying their daughters.

How might black Americans view homosexuality today had blacks not been segregated from society by white people declaring WHITES ONLY?

How might black Americans view homosexuality tomorrow if blacks are no longer segregated from society by gay people declaring WHITES and LATINS ONLY?

Everyone pays a price for racism and exclusion. What price are you paying today? How much is your racism costing you?

AIDS Strong

What's it like to be HIV-positive for half your life? Check out my unique perspective on having a virus that leaves the entire world scared shitless.

Half a Life with AIDS
Kiss Me, I Have AIDS
On Being HIV+ Like Magic Johnson
That's So Gay, and Dirty and Disease-Ridden!

Write On

Check out the novels of Randy Boyd

How Much Is Your Homophobia Worth?

What's the value of pro athletes campaigning against political rights for homosexuals, as was the case in the recent election?

It all depends on how one looks at it. How much is a homophobic attitude in the locker room worth nowadays? How much is the word fag trading for on the macho market of our modern day gladiators? How about the price of put-downs with negative connotations, like "suck my dick?"

What's the true cost of homophobic attitudes in professional sports?

Broken spirits, broken sports dreams and kids sacrificing athletic aspirations to spare themselves the wrath of homophobic coaches and teammates.

How many young men have quit sports out of fear?

How many more young men will quit before coaches and players lighten up and let everybody play?

A lot of gay or questioning kids still commit suicide in America. How many of them have sports dreams? How many of them could become good athletes? How much is all this gay-hating worth to the professional athletes of America?

• Randy Boyd is a five-time Lambda Literary Award Finalist and the author of "Walt Loves the Bearcat," the story of a lifelong romance between a college cheerleader and quarterback who becomes the first out superstar athlete. Randy himself was a cheerleader at both USC and UCLA.
  
  "Walt Loves the Bearcat" was a Lambda Literary Award Finalist for Best Romance and is available wherever books are sold.
  
  

More on homos in basketball and football:
Homophobia in the NBA: Who’s To Blame?
NFL Coach Dungy's Homophobic Dreams
Dear NFL Players: Tear Down This Wall
The Man Who Pegged Amaechi and Hardaway as Gay Speaks Out

The Author as Male Sexual Dawg

Breaking news, World, black men can be presidents of countries outside of Africa, and perhaps even more shocking, black homo authors have romantic and sexual dreams, just like other human beings!

For most of my life, I have kept my mouth shut and my body restrained when it comes to being a man who needs what all men need: to nut. After all, where in the world does a socially-retarded, black faggot who grew up abused and scared even begin to learn to feel comfortable in his own skin? From TV? From movies? From fairy tales? From the frat bros and sorority gals in college? From gay porno? From a world obsessed with a singular physical attribute of black men?

No, a socially-retarded black faggot learns to create worlds in his own mind, worlds where he is loved, cherished, respected and valued, worlds where he's allowed to be himself, queeny, manly, faggy, masculine, vulnerable, strong, relaxed, smart, funny and even, believe it or not, sexual.

If the socially-retarded black faggot is fortunate, he'll learned to be a storyteller, he'll get an education, his name will be Randy and he'll live long enough to show the world his dreams with stories and pictures ...

... which is exactly why I'm so freakin' glad I'm me, a once socially-retarded black faggot who's so much more than the sum total of the negative dreams provided to him by the world. Now, I got books and blogs to show the world all that I can be, brainy, funny, angry, thoughtful, even, believe it or not, sexual.

To the minds of the world that do not want to imagine a black man loving himself and dreaming of loving other men: caution, my whole other blog is not for you.

To the rest of the world: hey, I gotta nut, too! I even dream of nuttin' someday with a very special buddy. If you wanna check out the dreams my body dreams up when my brain's not working on the rest of life, visit the fun and funky world of the Funky Black Poz Jock (.com).

A Black Lesbian President?

Can a black lesbian be President of the United States? It was a query posed by the professor of my cultural anthropology class in college in the early 1980s. He was giving examples of the kinds of people least "preferred" by our culture, a female who was black and lesbian being the furthest type away from straight white males of his example.

Consider the presidential election of 2008 a pivotal moment for cultural perceptions. Today, a lesbian can be whatever she wants to be, regardless of her color. A little further on down the cultural evolutionary road, she can even be president.

She can also inspire questions about lesbians in my second novel, Bridge Across the Ocean. But what is the subject of dykes doing in a story about the boyhood adventures of a man living with AIDS? Find out, and see how the perception of lesbians has changed over the last two decades in What Is a Lesbian? 1988-2008

Boyd Knows Balls

As a player, a cheerleader, a fan and a writer, Randy Boyd knows balls and the games men play with them. Click here for Jockin': Homos in Sports

Stay Up on the Blocks

Click here for Randy Boyd's Bio

Contact author Randy Boyd

You, Go, Mr. President, Sir!

Introducing a new block on the Blocks.

In honor of the first black man to reach the highest office in the land, my land, the United States of America, Randy Boyd's Blocks is proud to present: The Obama Files.

Fate willing, the Obama Files will be a collection of my blog posts, which is to say, my Blocks, that will live on the Internet for humanity's foreseeable future, and thus forever share with the world my words and images concerning one of the most important men in history, the Man among men, soon-to-be the President, my President. Barack Obama.

Yes, Sir, Mr. President!

Gays Shall Overcome, Too

The Truth about President-Elect Barack Obama

America: Do You Still Believe In Miracles?

"Do you believe in miracles?"
Al Michaels, 1980 Olympics

I hope Barack Obama is elected President of the United States of America. I hope Americans remember that Barack Obama is neither a black man nor a white man but a man born of black and white. I hope Americans remember that black and white aren't even colors. I hope Americans realize that Barack Obama's “race” is all in the mind.

I hope Americans fully understand that all men and women are descendants of the same ancestors. I hope Americans come to accept evolution the way Americans have come to accept CSI shows and the Maury Povich Paternity Test Hour, cultural applications of the science that proves that evolution is guilty of being the Baby Daddy of All Living Things.

I hope to live a very long and healthy life. I hope that by the end of my very long and healthy life, Americans won't be so blinded by colors, races, sexual orientations or what science tells us about the rock on which we live. I hope that I always have hope. I hope my dreams do come true.

Originally posted as Black Man Hoping and Dreamin' on 9-26-2008

The Bradley Affected

Many of the gay men voting for Barack Obama are the same gay men who won't date a black man because, as often stated on the Net, they prefer to date WHITE and LATINS ONLY.

btw: Thank you.

Nuff Said

AIDS Monster Movie Marathon

Welcome to a ghoulish treat for all times for the whole family ...

It's the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a story told backwards in a car driving forward ...

Brought to you by Randy Boyd's Blocks, the blog of five-time Lambda Literary Award finalist Randy Boyd ...

Featuring the classics of the classics, the best and the worst of the AIDS Monster Movies so famous back in the day.

Plus, a special retrospective treat! Journey through the dark mind of the AIDS Monster who started it all with his now famous monster movies, the fictional collection of dreams Americans created for themselves and their loved ones during a time our special guest refers to as the AIDS Panic (1981-1996).

In this special, multi-part edition of my author blog (posted and presented backwards beginning Halloween Night, 2008), we'll take a look at rare photos from the films and life of our legendary guest. And perhaps even more anticipated, the unveiling of never seen before movie posters from the AIDS Monster Movie series.

But first ...

Tonight's special guest has been scaring people shitless for nearly three decades with his unique brand of mayhem and destruction. Without this man, there would be no AIDS Monster Movie Marathon. Randy Boyd's Blocks is proud, honored, and just a little freaked out to bring to you ...

"Interview with the AIDS Monster," if you dare go there ...

Interview with the AIDS Monster

And now, a special Halloween treat on this very special occasion: my one-on-one, exclusive, tell-all tête-à-tête with the infamous actor who starred in most of the AIDS Monster Movies, the great Count Randolpho de St. Mark Boyd.

Count Randolpho (no relation?) was a faded B-movie star whose career was resurrected from the dead with the resurgence in popularity of the AIDS Monster Movies, now a big hit with a whole new generation.

I sat down at a table usually reserved for seances and right away, got down to business asking the Count the questions the world has been dying to know the answers for. Quite literally.

Randy Boyd: Count Randolpho, tell us why AIDS and the AIDS Monster is such a big hit in the world once again?

Count Randolpho: For those of you who were alive during the original AIDS Panic, you may or may not remember all the nightmares that made up the horrific dreams Americans had about AIDS, those worst case scenarios, the having-great-sex-one-minute-facing-your-death-the-next nightmares.

Q: I'm getting scared already. Do we have to go there?

A: Of course, those kinds of terrorizing images had been the stuff of grown-ups' dreams to their kids as recent as slasher greats like the original Halloween (1978), a superb film, by the way, and the equally disturbing early versions of Jason and the Friday the 13th franchise. And then there were their copycats, along with their 1950s predecessors, the ones hammered into the minds of the previous generation, you know, those beatniks and hippies that had all that free love on acid.

Q: Ah, the Sexual Revolution.

A: Exactly. From post-WWII baby boomed America, right on through to our Happy Days in the 1950s and our free love, drugs and rock n roll of the 1960s and 70s, America was gettin' its nut. Can I say that on this blog? Not only that, Americans were giving themselves permission to enjoy sex, male or female, and in many different combinations and varieties.

Q: Talk about a dream come true. Speaking of dreams—

A: And America loved it. Many of us reading blogs on the net wouldn't be alive today, reading blogs on the net, if somebody wasn't getting it on a couple of decades back. In the bedroom, in the backseat, in the passing night, in love, in rape and incest, with husbands and wives, strangers, relatives, people in positions of power and people in submission to power. With descendants of slaves, slave owners and immigrants. With men and women of all races with all kinds of backgrounds and blends and so on and so forth.

Q: Does all this have a point, Count, Sir?

A: You bet your impatient mind, it does.

Q: Pardon me?

A: Point is: America got off and shot a lot of wads. But then, all of a sudden, on a hot summer day in July of 1981, life was changed dramatically, especially when it came to sex.

Be sure to read more of "Interview with the AIDS Monster," part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon @ Randy Boyd's Blocks.

An AIDS Monster Is Born

"Interview with the AIDS Monster," a Randy Boyd Blocks exclusive, continues as part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a blog special celebrating Halloween 2008.

Now, more of the interview:

Randy: Sex changed while America was celebrating its independence?

Count Randolpho: To fuck, yes. On July 4, 1981, Americans were celebrating their independence to fuck. People were having sex, some were making babies. Unbeknown to most, the day before, the New York Times had served the world written-notice: on the radar was a grimmer, more gruesome-told-you-so-worst-case-nightmarish-way-to-die-scenario than all the teen horror flicks combined. A thing we would later come to call AIDS.

Q: Is it true you once compared that article to the World Trade Center bombing in 1993, only on the radar in certain circles.

A: A lot of people didn't take the initial AIDS warnings too seriously, for one reason or another. Then four years later, on another July day in America, the so-called Sexual Revolution received its 9/11 wake-up call in 1985.

Q: Is it true you were the one who first called it AIDS Night in America?

A: And so what if I did? It was a sobering day of epic proportions in American and world history.

Q: Enlighten us.

A: In a time when the number of celebrities and access to them was a great deal less than that of today, Rock Hudson's announcement that he was being treated for AIDS shocked the world. The images of the famous actor struggling to and from airports in the US and France, his beloved female co-star Doris Day by his side. The visions of a frail, fading, emaciated Rock, a man who represented masculinity, virility, and acceptable heterosexual behavior (as seen on TV and in movies).

Q: Mind talking about something else? This is starting to be a downer.

A: Why? You can't run from the AIDS Monster, fool. The beast has a lot to bitch about.

AIDS Night in America, 1985

"Interview with the AIDS Monster," a Randy Boyd Blocks exclusive, continues as part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a blog special celebrating Halloween 2008.

Randy Boyd: Count Randolpho, what were you saying about the night Rock Hudson shocked the world?

Randolpho: It was as shocking as finding out any huge celebrity of today has some crazy, mysterious disease from having sex with the wrong kind of people, as determined by the Bible and Bible-thumping Americans. Told you so. AIDS = Evil. Ooops. I know what I did last summer for the last 20 years, which means I could be the next Rock to crumble to death by AIDS. Very publicly, by the way.

Q: Speaking of “very publicly,” my next novel is coming out in 2009 and—

A: Enough with your shameless plug for a second. How many Americans were scared shitless on AIDS Night in America, 1985? Kids, go ask your parents! Really! Go talk about it with them. Ask them what it was like hearing on the news that there's a chance they could have AIDS like Rock Hudson. Parents, maybe you could share it with your horny teenagers, and the younger siblings who look up to them, maybe you could share with them how it felt hearing scientists on the news telling the world, “not much we can do about this strange new fatal disease right now, but we think it's sexually transmitted.”

Q: What good is bringing up all that again?

A: Ask them how it felt getting a wake-up call that said, “all that sex and experimenting you've been enjoying, you've been having that sex with all the people those people have been having sex with, too.”

Q: My next novel is about—

A: America was shared shitless for a very long time. Can anyone say Ryan White? Remember him? Remember the babies with AIDS who were shunned form the world? Remember the constant news footage of weak, sick, frail skeletons of gay men dying in hospital death beds, aliens on public display, abandoned by their loved ones, their neighbors, their landlords, their jobs, their co-workers, their medical staff, their schools, their daycares, their right to live and die in America?

Q: You're sweating profusely. Wanna take a break?

A: I'm an old black man with a mask on his face, you want I should not sweat?

Q: Why are you talking like a Jewish or Italian New Yorker?

A: Trying to sound different than the crazy black author who created me. Can I finish my story? We'll get to your blessed next book soon enough.

Q: Please continue.

A: Hold on, need a break. I just flew in from doing Letterman last night, and boy are my wings tired. Is that the sound of the jpeg door creaking open?

Q: Sure is, AIDS Monster. It's time for a Halloween treat!

I Have the AIDS Virus, Hear Me Sing!

Photo above: Movie poster from the musical Take My HIV, Please!

More Monster Movie Marathon to Come!

The Halloween Fun Has Just Begun @ Randy Boyd's Blocks!

Photo above: Movie poster for the acclaimed, The AIDS Monster Goes to Washington

Dawn of the Disease-Ridden

... The AIDS Monster Movie Marathon scrolls onward. Or backwards, depending on how you're viewing it. It's kinda like this ...

The AIDS Monster Movie Marathon is a story told backwards in a car driving forward.

Confused? Don't be. You'll figure it out.

We now continue with our exclusive "Interview with the AIDS Monster," part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon at Randy Boyd's Blocks.

Randy Boyd: Is that enough goat blood to drink? Ready to continue now?

Count Randolpho: Thank you, I think I will. The AIDS Panic raged like a fire out of control, with waves of pandemonium and mayhem ebbing and flowing, with fumbles and advances by scientists, with awareness and lack thereof, with attention and ignorance, with funding and less funding, with news coverage and less news coverage, with meaning in the gay community and very little meaning in the gay community. The focus and attention coincided with things like: priorities in black communities, in Latino communities, in Washington, in local government, in compassionate humans' hearts and minds.

Q: Is there a happy ending to this interview?

A: Stick around and find out. The AIDS Panic ended circa 1996. Scientists and the FDA unleashed the first protease inhibitor, the first class of drugs that had a new, more effective strategy in mind against the virus.

Q: Can you explain, please, Count.

A: Picture the virus as a great athlete on the basketball court. We'll call him Magic Jordan Miller. You can't stop him with what you've got right now; you can only contain him by studying his tendencies and weaknesses and adapting a good defensive strategy to minimize his damage. The team known as the Scientists released their “magical” new defensive opponent around Christmas, 1995. So 1996 is when the strategy started to show Santa had delivered—

Q: And the AIDS Panic went away.

A: Not so fast. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot. As long as Magic Jordan Miller is in the game, you got to defend it and defend it well at each and every opportunity, feel me? Sorry, I'm channeling Coach Renteria, football coach for the Dreamville Zephyrs football team in your next novel, The Bearcat Boyz, was I supposed to keep that a secret?

Q: Moving on. So the AIDS Panic subsided, the fear recessed, and The Powers That Be never released the movie posters created for America's fictional movies representing their dreams?

A: Most of them anyway. Until now.

Q: Why now?

A: You know why, you wrote about the Bareback Party craze in America. We done sexually revolted again. Since the Panic subsided, the heat done risen again. On top of that, a whole new generation of Americans have been born and don't remember the AIDS Panic, only the current financial panic.

And not only that, these new kids on the block are horny like they're supposed to be, hey, it's only natural. But kids of today have also got the Internet, the most magical toaster slash home product since the first gizmo sold to our grandparents on a black and white television.

Q: So we're talking young raging hormones on steroids, so to speak.

A: And then some. Do the math, America. Horny is as horny do. And kids are doing it. Trouble is, most kids are being horny minus real information on safer sex and how to have it. And then there's drugs, speaking of steroids, and the recreation variety, circa today. Add music, and life is one big ongoing sex party 'til you drop. Sometimes literally.

Q: Your homage to disco-era horror films, Toxic DJ Mix Monster, is a big hit today, I think, because of the music soundtrack that accompanied the campy flop.

A: A man's gotta sing sometime, eh?

Q: Have you been to any of these AIDS Monster Movie parties? I hear they're thinking about having AIDS Monster Movie conventions now.

A: Forget about that. I'm tired of talking about the sex lives of young adults. It's not like they'd touch a real-life monster like me. They'd rather put me in a box they feel comfortable with, and call themselves disease-free.

Q: Just one more thing before we move on—

A: Kids are gonna do what kids do, with or without my library of AIDS Monster images running through their minds. They know, even if only peripherally, that sex = danger, especially to your own health. What they don't know is how to navigate the sexual highways and byways, pun intended, while keeping themselves protected and minimizing the risks and the dangers.

Q: You make it sound like driving.

A: Like driving, flying, or operating any heavy machinery, if you get my drift. Which reminds me, I need to re-up my ED script, big night coming up ... but I digress.

Q: And often.

A: Whatever you do in life, other people before you have thought about it and tried it. Sometimes, that person might be your parents. Or your older sibling. Whatever the case, nothing you can think of or do is original. Too many great apes before us to be an OG anything, essentially.

Q: Do you have a point, because I thought we were really here to promote my upcoming Bearcat Boyz book series, especially Bearcat Boyz 1, due out September 2009.

A: Ignore the rude interviewer, kids, whatever you do out there, some human has done it before you. Some have liked it. Some haven't. Some have been hurt by it. Some have been helped by it. Some have figured out how to do it safely and have lived to tell about it. And some, well, some have tried it and it didn't work out so well. We can't learn much from the dead, unless they left a note behind—

Q: Which is exactly why I write my books and two blogs.

A: You have another blog besides this author blog? I did not know that.

Q: Yes, it's my own, NC-17-esque take on my sex and love life, or mostly lack thereof.

A: Fascinating.

Q: Indeed. But caution: my whole other blog, well, how do I put this? My whole other blog is not for the timid and weak when it comes to me expressing myself as a male sexual dawg. So caution to the hetero crowd that just can't bring themselves to imagine a black homo being sexual and falling in love, just like them.

A: That went over my head, among various other places. Can you run that by me once again?

Q: Look at it this way:

Randy Boyd blogs with his brain at RandyBoydsBlocks.com,

and with his body at FunkyBlackPozJock.com.

A: You're nothing, if not clever. If I were a younger man ...

Q: Why assume I'm not into older guys?

A: You didn't let me finish. If I were a younger Count Randolpho, I could rush to the pharmacy and get that Viagra I need to order. But I thought I was here to answer questions, not ask them.

Q: Moving on.

A: I wish you would. This is Halloween weekend. I've got parties to attend. And before you ask, I'm going as the same getup I do every year: I'm going as the AIDS Monster.

AIDS: The Golden Years

"Interview with the AIDS Monster," a Randy Boyd Blocks exclusive, continues as part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a blog special celebrating Halloween 2008.

Now, more of the interview:

Randy Boyd, author: So in essence, Count, are you saying kids are better off if, on some level, they learn about love and sex in the same way they learn about other activities best experienced as responsible adults, like driving?

Count Randolpho de St. Mark Boyd, actor: Like driving, like thriving in the workforce, going to a social gathering, like managing your finances responsibly, and on and on to the break of Dawn of the Disease-Ridden. Sorry, had to plug one of my classics. Now available on Craigslist! It's paired as a double feature with Battle of the Neg People. Oh, how I loved it when the AIDS Monster Movie series added a new enemy.

Q: You actually liked the clean and disease-free Neg People? Out to destroy all Poz People? Or at least, keep them away from starring in Neg People's Great Bareback Adventures. Why were they a good thing for the AIDS Monster?

A: Ah, those were the golden years for AIDS. Just when you thought the virus had played out and the AIDS Monster was a thing of the past, the new generation came out to the party with a whole new band of heroes bent on destroying the ugly beast, little ol' me.

Q: The Neg People were a tough adversary, granted, but they were created well after the original AIDS Panic of 1981-1996.

A: Thing is, they don't have to be adversaries. Ain't that crazy? Neg People can live with and make love to Poz People. You betcha! Neg People can have sex with Poz People. Trouble is, the majority of Neg People don't know that. Many Neg People are like zombies, blindly stumbling through the dark and scary night, foolishly unaware of the fact that Neg People can co-exist sexually with Poz People, especially if both Neg People and Poz People arm themselves with knowledge about what is and isn't safer sex. On top of that, they have an even better shot at great sex if they practice that safer sex until they get really, really good at it.

Q: Alas, it doesn't always happen that way, Count Randolpho.

A: Because nobody is teaching kids how to operate their horny equipment responsibly, and thus kids fail to get the message that their horny equipment can get them killed.

Q: So what's safe, Count?

A: Who am I, Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man? The AIDS Monster doesn't have a photographic memory. Besides, don't take my word for it. Or anyone else's, for that matter. Google it. Listen to what reputable medical and scientific sites like the CDC have to say. Don't take Rain Man's or any one man's word for it. By the way, young writer ...

Q: Yes, Count Randolpho?

Don't take anybody's word for it.

A: That's a tip that works well with lovers and strangers when it comes to claims about one's HIV status. If the AIDS Monster had a dead bat to eat for each time a young soul comes up to me on the street and says:

"He said was he clean and negative, Count Randolpho. I believed him and let him inside me, unprotected. Now ... I'm an AIDS Monster just like you."

More Monster Movie Marathon Treats!

"Interview with the AIDS Monster," a Randy Boyd Blocks exclusive, continues as part of the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a special blog treat for Halloween 2008. Now, more of the interview:

Randy Boyd: Any other advice?

Randolpho: Don't believe what you hear about safer sex in the AIDS Monster Movies. Those films are just figments of your imagination, an imagination that was fueled by ignorance, shame, guilt and a desire to suppress the truth.

Q: What truth is that, Count?

A: A truth so eloquently put in your wonderful, not-so-little novel.

Q: Walt Loves the Bearcat? (I know, shameless plug, when I read it.)

A: Indeed. How did those boys put it? Let's see, if I remember ...

Q: It was—

A: I can pull it outta my ass myself, thank you very much. Another good rule to live by, by the way. Anyway. The truth goes like this:

"Sex is what makes us humans."

Walt Loves the Bearcat by Randy Boyd.

Q: Well said.

A: If you say so yourself. Now show the bigger memo where that quote appears.

Q: We don't have time.

A: We got time, word guy.

Q: Not if you wanna get to your favorite monster movies, Pops.

A: Don't call me Pops, kid. You got it twisted.

Q: We're here to talk about kids today and the AIDS Monster Movies.

A: What do you think The Bearcat Boyz deals with? Horny boys in love. Duh! Like Oh ... My ... Gawd ... Just show the memo from the book, what's it called again, losing my mind here?

Q: Walt Loves the Bearcat

A: That's it. Play the memo from the chapter in Walt Loves the Bearcat called "The Bearcat Boyz."

Universal Memo: Bearcat Boyz have balls and dicks, whatever names you wanna give them, and all the other body parts male men have, even tails. Call ’em what you want, we’ve got them and we think about them All The Time. We also like using them, one way or another, and nothing you can say is gonna stop us now. Our hunch is ... sex is what makes us humans. We’re just being as human as humanly possible. We’re always open to better ways of dreaming about our hands, our minds, our tongues, our dicks, our balls, our asses, our love, but keep your garbage to yourselves if you plan on trashing the deepest dreams of our souls.

Bearcat Boyz don’t lie about having balls. This much is true.

We love our bodies, our minds, our souls and our sexual impulses.
If we can’t talk about it, we can always act it out for you.

from Walt Loves the Bearcat

Q: Satisfied now?

A: Not yet but getting there.

Q: Hey, that's a line from Walt Loves the Bearcat, a Lambda Literary Award finalist for Best Romance. Available wherever books are sold. Oh, wait, I hear the sound of our jpeg Halloween door creaking open ... must be time for a different kind of AIDS Monster Movie Marathon Treat!