It's still 2008 here, and I'm pleased that Florida's science-curriculum developers have the moxie to sneak around the fact that they're not supposed to talk about radiocarbon dating of fossils or evolution. Spin, world, and carry me to the new year.
I listened on the radio today to an interview with two old men with AIDS, two early San Francisco victims of the "gay disease". They were wonderful to listen to, the best of Protestant virtue and the best argument for gay marriage rights I've yet heard. When they discovered, in 1987, that they were HIV+ and had been for years, they resolved immediately not to blame anyone, to embrace and help all who needed help, to learn all they could about the disease, to save as much as they could against the day when they were too sick to work, but not too sick to die, and to fight; but if the fight failed, to die with all the grace they could. Because they wanted to live, of course, but also because they'd been together only a few years, and it seemed so wrong for their life together to be cut short. They've kept each other for 20 years, going through clinical trials, joking, taking care of each other. Now they find that 20 years with HIV and antiretrovirals seem to have aged them very quickly, and it's true they sounded more like 80-year-olds than 60-year-olds. The doctors are watching and studying them. They're still together, with -- from the sounds of it -- much calm and humor.
