Surge Forth

My latest bout of activism has been triggered by another viewing of V for Vendetta and many conversations, with many people.

Tonight, on the first day of the Copenhagen Global Climate Forum, I find myself quite annoyed with the state of global climate change policy and the refusal of the leading powers (US, EU, China) to make any sort of real effort. I start thinking about the possibility of suing countries at large for the mass destruction of the human race at a steady pace (in a related note, I also feel a burning desire to slap smokers when I am forced to inhale clouds of their cancer smoke when walking down the street behind them).

By the time we figure it all out, it will be much too late.

In Plaster

aperri (2009) statue at Kos Museum, Kos, Greece

In bed last night, reading a book of Sylvia Plath's early poems (Crossing the Water), before the fame of Ariel and her death. One particularly stuck with me, an excerpt below

I shall never get over this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
And the white person is certainly the superior one.
She doesnt need food, she is one of the real saints.
At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality-
She lay in bed with me like a dead body
And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was

Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints.
I couldnt sleep for a week, she was so cold.
I blamed her for everything, but she didnt answer.
I couldnt understand her stupid behavior!
When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist.
Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her:
She began to warm up and I saw her advantages.

Griselda by Maxfield Parrish (1910)

World AIDS Day

Today is World AIDS Day which, oddly, isnt something I think about very often. My volunteer work at the AIDS clinic has become sort of routine (if that can be seen in a good way). I stopped seeing the people there as 'AIDS cases' long ago and have come to know them all as individuals. The fact that they are all dealing with the same disease rarely crosses my mind and Im glad for it as they seem tired of the constant reminders.

But in a bigger way, AIDS has really changed my life. My aunt Rafaella (Rae-Rae to me) died of AIDS when I was 13. Apparently she had been sick with it for quite some time, but I remember being told all sorts of excuses - that she had the flu, that she had to cut her hair short because it was fashionable, that she was weak all the time because she was just too busy. At 13 I was just on the edge of really understanding what was going on. My aunt was rowdy, loud, vivacious, independent and completely lovable. I wanted to be her when I grew up. She lived in NYC and was always sending me the most trendy new things. I still have my bottle of strawberry Hello Kitty perfume. When her disease advanced I watched her turn into a weakened, thin frame. A still vivacious, witty spirit trapped in a dying shell.

The last thing she said to me was that she couldnt believe I bought her the new pull-and-peel licorice over the classic Twizzlers. Then she laughed, gave me a wink, and feigned interest in eating the candy for my sake. She died the next day.