Seriously sick.

So, tonight, someone posted a blatantly pedo composition to this monthly art challenge I participate in.  I won't link to or post the image because I won't encourage this sick jackass by helping him spread his crime further.  But I will describe it for you and quote this jerkoff's text.  You have a child of around twelve or thriteen tops standing dead center wearing nothing but a very skimpy bikini bottom, covering her tiny little girl breasts with her hands.  In front of her is a bowl of strawberries and cream.  He titled his disgusting display "The Reluctant Debutante".


Every Pin-Up had a first "shoot" sometime and handling such a debutante may be a challenge for the photographer too ... unless (s)he knows how to handle the model ...... you need one hand to hold the bowl and the other hand to eat ...

That is a cut and paste, direct quote of his entry blurb.  It makes it patently clear that the child doesn't want to be photographed partially nude, but that if she wants a treat, she has to bare it for the camera.  I was so disgusted and incensed by this that I was at a loss for words.  But what really, REALLY turned my stomach was the comment that followed two entrants complaints about the subject matter.

..humorous and very sweet.

I think I threw up in my mouth a little. 

For the first time, I've resorted to using a forums report button.

No, my dear, perverted sicko, that was neither sweet nor humorous.  What it is, is sick.

I'm so tired of religion and politics.

It seems like you can't escape either these days.  Sure, I concede, there are plenty of reasons why both are necessary, but it's not at all necessary to go on about them endlessly to everyone you encounter.  If anything, it's pushy and rude.  No, really, it is.

Think about it this way:  Do you want to hear about the intimate details of everyone else's sex lives or bathroom habits? 

Most people don't.  Most people have absolutely no desire to listen to you go on and on about how big a dump you took this morning or how you prefer to shag your partner.  Well it's the same basic thing with your religious or political beliefs.  I don't care what or how you worship or who you would rather have screwing up your life on Capitol Hill.  It's even less interesting to me than what was in your droppings yesterday.  As a matter of fact, after a while, it becomes just as offensive to listen to some numpty blather on and on about how great The Savior is (or how awesome <insert random diety here> happens to be in your oh so enthusiastic opinion, which must be taken as fact) or how much the Democrats (or the Republicans or the Libertarians or the Socialist or what-the-kriff-ever party) suck big donkey meat and OMG let me tell you why for the next three hours that you can never have back.

The reality of it is that despite the fact that people are rabidly divided over how they feel about these things, they all behave the same way.  They have this pathetic sithy "you either agree with me or you're an evil asshole" thing going on that just blows the mind in its toddler's simplistic rhetoric.  Nevermind that when their side does the exact same thing you're frothing about that you defended it and presented me with some ridiculous diatribe of the same sort just last year.  Nevermind that you haven't the faintest idea what the actual core values of your espoused cult that has changed your life actually are and that I can plainly see you are still living your life in defiance of those actual values.  None of what you have to say actually ever changes anything for the better or has an ounce of positive forward thinking in it. 

The more you run your mouths about these things, the more they seem like endlessly lame garbage that aren't worth my time.  And this kinda places YOU in the center of a raft of feelings of annoyance, distaste and dislike.  So keep it to yourself.  I don't want to hear about how you found Jesus.  I don't want to hear you parrot some witless talking head from the idiot box about how much you hate President Obama or how brave people who murder doctors who perform abortions in the name of "right to life" are or how some up-jumped Puerto Rican chick is unqualified to be on the same bench as total purity and genius cases like Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito.  This is deep into eye-rolling and wandering off to avoid you territory.

So seriously... dont tell me.  Save it for someone who wants to hear it.

We woke up this morning to find Kitty couldn't stand up and walk.  Obviously, we lost our shit and immediately rushed her to a vet.  She's not young anymore, after all.  The first vet we visited was at the Ashburn Village Animal Hospital.  I will never go there again. 

The receptionist could have been manning a cash register at Seven Eleven for all she seemed to care.  The vet wasn't much better.  She had us convinced we might as well put her down and ignored our suggestion that one of us should be handling Kitty because she didn't do well with strangers.  Her ignorance got one of her people bitten and caused pointless, unneccessary delays while the health department gave permission for us to take her to a specialist.  This is a rule for animals that bite people.  Cam and I were in tears, convinced on her word that the worst was happening.

Fortunately the TLC clinic in Leesburg and the neuro specialist there were vastly more qualified to handle both animals and people.  And they must have been the only ones in the county who are, judging by the serious traffic in emergencies these people went through while we were there.  And we were there All Day while they gave her nearly every test known to vetinary science to try and nail down exactly what was wrong with her. 

Kitty doesn't get sick or hurt often.  It's a good thing, because when she does, it is COSTLY.  You don't want to know what we paid today or how much we'll pay next week if she doesn't recover and ends up having to get MRIs to see if there is spinal cord problems or brain tumors.  The neurologist -thinks- she suffered a stroke and predicts that she should be up on her feet in a couple of days on her own.  He didn't just throw expensive meds at it.  We appreciated that.  We also appreciated how the people there handled both us and Kitty.

THEY heeded the biting warnings.  They didn't wall us out and isolate us, then blow us off with dire prognostications.  They let us stay in a visiting room with Kitty while she waited for different doctors, which was good for her AND us.  The neuro had ME handle Kitty while he examined her and he actually got to do some examining instead of fending off her feeble attempts at defending herself.  Let me tell you, even so feeble that she can't stand up, it seems Kitty can get a good bite and claw combination sprung on the unwary faster than seems possible.

But she passed the "baby food test" by the end of the visit, so the vet is sure she'll be fine.  There's something pathetic, sad and cute about the sight of a cat in one of those funnel collars that can't sit up entirely on her own power with her nose stuck in a jar of babyfood, greedily slurping it up.  It was a LOLcat moment.  Poor Kitty.

Okay, it's rant time again.

There've been a few things stuck in my gorge lately that I need to puke up in text.  The most pressing being my beef with people being such landuur pussies.  As kids, when someone makes fun of you or says something that hurts your feelings, you have an outburst or a tantrum or whatever and the grownups tell you to simmer down and be a big kid instead of a big baby.  So why is it these days that grown adults take this behavior to extremes about things that aren't even directed at them and it's acceptible?

Seriously, people, you need to get over yourselves and get over it. 

Yes, I know some people have died of the Swine Flu.  But let's put this in perspective, shall we?  Many, many more people die every year of the regular old flu and nobody says squat about it.  But the media gets desperate for something to scare people into watching them obsessively, picks up some less lethal disease, turns it into the end of humanity and everyone goes freaking insane over it.  Suddenly all those morons who laugh at Mexicans and make racist comments where they think nobody but their intended targets will hear them become the Political Correctness Police.

There are about a half a dozen of these white apologist PC Feuhrers making a huge fuss over at the Daz forums because some hapless, clueless schmuck stuck with the usually scheduled catchphrases on a sale that featured a cute little piglet model on Cinqo de Mayo.  Suddenly, due to an unfortunate set of coincidences and a less than alert marketing approval (no doubt massivley overworked) these little PC Police have been raising the torches and pitchforks claiming DAZ hates Mexicans and making outrageous accusations and demanding that the people responsible be sacked (among other things). 

It's a lot like con politics, in that one malcontent gets a bug up their overpriveledged ass and whips up a fury among the usual suspects, who then infect the easily inflamed with their dramastorm and produce the angry mob who go all Republican on anyone who refuses to validate their gripe and join the herd of now-brainless bitchers to escalate what was originally nothing much into End Times crimes status.

In this case, what the core of these mouthy twats wants is something free to shut them up because the repeated apologies from half of the DAZ staff just isn't good enough for them.  It's classic greed and conceit going on here, reinforced by society's insistence on rewarding this kind of behavior in exactly this way.  The ringleader, no doubt won't shut up till she's banned or given a hefty payoff and a scapegoat fired. 

But yeah, people just LOOK for ways to be offended so that they can throw these disgusting tantrums and have their little circuses.  Where the haran is this shit coming from?  Why does anyone tolerate this sort of behavior out of adults?

I'm sick and tired of hearing a constant refrain of "OMG I'm so offended!!!" from hundreds of keyboards about the stupidest shit.  Maybe if most people didn't hop around like trained monkeys, falling all over themselves to make ammends for just about anything including looking at someone the wrong way or even for shit they HAVEN'T said or done, these big crybaby drama llamas would simmer the shab down and quit going on and on to anyone who will listen and half the folk who don't about how big a crime someone's committed against them or (insert racial or religious group here) and then gleefully go on about how insensitive and horrible the offender is and how greusomely they should be punished for their imagined insults. 

My answer would be a bucket of water.  It's what people do to settle dogs down when they've lost their shit.  If it's good enough for dogs, it's good enough for these twats.

Hey you.  Yeah you.  The ones whining about how horrible Daz is for making a bad ad and accusing them of going out of their way to be evil to Mexicans and to insult you.  Yeah you.  It's not all about you.  Get over yourself and shut the fuck up.

Thank you.

Have a nice day.

You whiney PC cunt.

Daddy's Watching

:D

Oya!  So I've managed to win a Daz artwork competition.  Guess even when it's all digital, I've still got it.

The piece was called Far, Far Away.

So I'm hitting a level of chronic frustration and impatience that can't possibly be healthy.  Sleep is becoming a challenge again.  I don't feel like I'm doing anything particularly well.  I'm getting that gnaw my own foot off to escape feeling.

My game friends miss me.  I get to log in, but generally not when they're on.  They play during prime time.  I'm monopolized during prime time.  And prime time seems to be spreading to almost prime time and not so prime time.

I have to stay up till nearly dawn to do any rendering or anything else that requires some unbroken attention.  It's not doing anything for my disposition.

No, I haven't died.

It's just that I've had this gradually increasing load of crap that needs doing.  It's become so time consuming and tiring that it's actually eaten my reading, gaming and writing time.  It almost seems as if the more time I spend on regular, mundane, everyday things, the more time I'm expected to spend.  Now, it feels as if it has eaten up nearly every corner of my waking life.

I feel like Cinderella.  Pre Prince Charming Cinderella.

Yes, I know how dramatic it sounds.  So sue me.  I need to vent.

See, I feel pushed into a corner.  I'm at one of those points where it almost feels like if I just abdicated the domestic role and took an outside job -- ANY outside job, no matter how awful -- that I'd feel less stressed.  You see, we're back in that cycle of him not knowing exactly how good a ride he's getting again.  Asking for more and not appreciating what he's got, thinking that maybe if I was just like other women, he'd be happy.  What he doesn't take into account is that other men don't have a woman washing their clothes, feeding them, keeping their house clean and all that other long, long list of luxuries he takes for granted.

What he doesn't seem to understand is his mother wanted a house full of kids and one adult male kid didn't phase her.  And his dad has always spent a lot of time away, leaving her a little space to have off-time.  I don't want kids.  That includes an adult male one.  And I get no space.  At all.  He doesn't back off when we're in this cycle of increasing demand.  He only retreats, leaving behind a palpable sense of unreasonable expectation and disapproval.  And when he presses back in, it's harder, bigger and even less digestible.  It needs to stop soon.

I feel the need to rant today.  My rant is society's secret love affair with The Lie. 

I hate it.  I find it repugnant.  I also find it inexplicable.  People lie for every reason imaginable -- for profit, for promotion, for respect or adoration, for social acceptance, to avoid punishment, to avoid pain... so many, many reasons.  It is all-pervasive.  Yet lying serves no real good in the end.  Lies, even those meant kindly, twist in the liar's mouth and corrupt the intention.

So many people lean on others to perpetuate the lie.  They say the truth is cruel and that nobody deserves to hear it (unless it's soft and comfortable).  Tell me how that's kind, again?  By telling a comfortable, pretty or socially acceptable lie, you are removing the chance that someone might grow, improve or become stronger or better.  You are misleading the recipient into believing something that isn't real rather than letting them know what you yourself think and perceive.

By lying to others, you begin building a prison for yourself, binding yourself with fabrications into a construct of artifice and fantasy.  The more you do it, the more you have to do it to preserve the illusion you've built.  You become constrained by the lie you build and unable to see a way free of it you continue to maintain.  And the longer you do this, the more hollow and guilty and unhappy you will feel.  Because you start to lose sight of the truth, yet deep inside you know you aren't living it.

How can any person be happy never knowing if someone, anyone might possibly like or respect or accept them if they actually knew who and what they really are?  Lies aren't the protection people seem to think them to be.  They undermine self esteem worse than the problems and foibles they are used to cover up.  Lies don't defend the liar from emotional pain.  They only serve to let that pain grow and fester and spread.

Lies create fear and insecurities.  Needlessly.  All liars know that they risk being unmasked.  Leave a lie long enough and it will distress you enough that when the truth DOES come to destroy it, even the consequences (almost always made more severe by the lie) seems a relief by comparison to the anxiety of maintaining the lie.

So tell me again, my friends, why is it that you embrace the lie so fervently?  The truth, quite literally, can set you free.  Free to improve.  Free to know what's real from what's not.  Free to become stronger and smarter and more beautiful and more meaningful.  Free to be known.  REALLY known.  Free to love someone else and even yourself.

Reject the lie and join me in embracing what you're sure is the truth.

Stop lying.

Start living.

Be who you are and say what you believe.

In the musical play "My Fair Lady", Henry Higgins bemoans the failings of the so-called fairer sex and asks "why can't a woman be more like a man?".  I'm sure this was intended by its authors as satirical, since his character was deeply flawed, yet there are many days I find myself in agreement with his complaint.

Not all women, but many, really get on my nerves.  It's not entirely their fault.  We are conditioned by society to behave the ways we do.  Denied healthier, traditionally male outlets for our aggression, we are taught to vent it differently -- in more socially acceptable ways.  Denied the satisfaction of physical and direct and honest outlets, we are indoctrinated into a much crueler, destructive and competitive way of dealing with things.  In this we are taught to be imminently more dangerous than our brothers... using them as tools to our ambitions and our anger, usually against each other.

Men view us typically as not competitive or aggressive.  They are blind.  They don't see the not-so-secret wars that girls and women wage right under their noses.  If they saw and understood, they might look at us very differently.  They'd fear the ones who did adhere to the social roles we've been given and be grateful for those few who refuse to rather than the other way around.  Because those who are more like men in their approach to life know how to forgive and observe certain boundaries.  Most women do not hold those things sacred.

But, Uurdala, you might say... you're a woman.

Yes, yes I am.  However, I refuse to let a ridiculous set of gender roles excuse being a osikla person.  Being born with ovaries and a uterus does not entitle me to be vicious and destructive and to use the other gender as pawns in some mostly invisible struggle for social power and revenge against other women for standing too close to my territory.  It does not guarantee me a free pass to do anything it takes to focus all attention in a social circle on me.  My gender only ensures that I will be the target of the majority who share it.

This doesn't mean I dislike all other women.  I don't.  Some of my dearest friends are female.  All of them, like me, curl the lip at our designated gender roles.  We are not outwardly meek and covertly sly.  We are direct, honest and very.... manlike in our approach to life, men and each other.  We play by rules and limits, unlike our more socially embraced sisters.  We see men as our equals and as people rather than as tools and prizes to be displayed to incite envy and anger.  We engage in healthy, friendly rivalries.

But having said all this, I have to say that I'm sick of the behavior of the majority of the women I've known.  Socially mandated or not, ingrained by a lifetime of example or not, it's weak, petty, ignoble and plain old pathetic.  I can tell you why we, as a gender have yet to acheive true equality in arenas historically dominated by men.  It is because so many of us accept the lies you're given as little girls, embrace the selfish, destructive behaviors you are taught and undermine not only yourselves, but ALL women in a futile attempt to gain an illusion of power for yourselves.

As a commercial holiday geared toward rabid consumption, this year's Christmas wasn't the amazing suck it could have been.  Not for my family at least.  The shredding frenzy of ribbon, gift paper and pretty packings was at its usual level of high.  The gifts were plentiful and satisfying to their targets.  There was the traditional surplus of rich food and drink.  Considering my inlaws are staring at the shreds of their retirement savings and feeling concerned, it was vaguely mystifying.


The world stands on the wrong side of the brink of chaos, yet somehow, inconceivably, my family passed through Christmas as usual.  Surely some benevolent power is smiling on them.  But I can't help but think about the people who aren't enjoying the light of that smile.  There is no guilt associated with these thoughts, only a vaguely uneasy sense of sadness.  It's difficult to express it, really.  I wish every last soul living on this planet at least this one day of rest, companionship and plenty.  One day lacking too much worry or pain or privation.  One day to celebrate surviving another year and to look forward to the next with determination knowing the sun will rise again at the end of the longest, coldest night.

See, Christmas for me isn't what it is for so many others.  Yes, I follow the herd and indulge willingly in the capitalist bacchanalia that modern Americans so adore.  But that is a socially expected ritual.  No, I don't buy into the fable of it being Christ's birthday.  It's historically established that the person that may or may not have been the Christian son of god was born some other night and that what we know as Christmas was a bid to garner converts by planting Christian holy days on top of pagan ones just as they built churches on top of their temples.  I humor people and use the commonly accepted names and phrases because in the end, it hurts nothing and all boils down to a similar spirit. 

What it is defies what it's clothed in or the rituals we use to frame it.  What it is, most simply put, is something that all humans need -- to look into the dark bravely and to remind themselves that they are alive despite the efforts of a cruel and difficult world; and to await the new day, keeping the fire going against the unknown that waits out in that dark night.

So keep that fire burning.  Take heart, for the sun WILL rise again.  Be thankful for what you have and hold.

Happy Phat Lewtz to you.  May you receive all you need and may you give well and wisely.

Another year in the Virgina megaburb and another snowless, cold, dreary Christmas. 

Memory suggests that there should be snow on my bit of yard, covering the brown, dead winter grass and reflecting the riot of strung colored lights and the glow of my old fashioned radioactive reindeer.  But no.  While my northern and western friends tell tales of white blanketed neighborhoods, mine remains stubbornly....brown.

The only snow I'll see this Christmas will be on cable, rolling in unlimited repeats of A Christmas Story.  I understand that I won't be seeing world peace, an end to the global financial crisis, humanity discovering the joys of becoming humane or anything else grand and meaningful under my tree in the morning.  But could I at least be given a yard of unstained, pure white snow just this one day of the year?

*sigh*

Father Christmas, why have you forsaken me?

Three days past the last oral surgery and my face is saying "ow ow ow". 

It would probably be a lot less ouchy if I'd take more of the percocet, but the truth is, I don't LIKE the stuff.  I'm very leary of it.  So I'm cutting it into quarters and just saving it for when it's bed time and I really need to just go to sleep.  The swelled throbby ick that is the left side of my mouth just won't settle down otherwise.

Funny that as much as I hated the other drug they gave me last time to control the swelling I'm almost wishing I'd gotten that this time.  There's a huge difference.  Seems that in addition to making me dumb and tired, it actually DID keep my face from becoming all huge.  Meh.  Can't make some of us happy, I guess.

I just keep telling myself "soon this will be done and I'll have more teeth".  It's just difficult to be patient about it.  We've been working on it for such a long time now.  The cost in terms of both finance and pain has been high.  It isn't a comfortable set of procedures.  It really, really isn't.  And no, it's not any safer than any other sort of surgery, no matter how people might try to dress it up.  One of the implants we'd originally planned on won't happen because it really IS that risky.  What good is a mouth full of teeth if half of your face is paralyzed by getting one of them?  Kind of defeats the purpose, I'd think, not to mention that it would be terribly unattractive.

It will be enough.  And in the end, it'll be more than worth it all.  No partials or bridges that would only hasten the trip to toothlessness and bone erosion.  Just new bone and tissue and replacement teeth that will keep everything in place for another half a lifetime.  So I shouldn't whine too much.  Even if it's really painful and ugly right now.

It's all part of the investment.

Oh... and Rick Warren is a jackass.  Surprise, surprise. 

Hey buddy... I know you're geneticly predisposed to be a chauvenistic, condescending, ignorant fathead... but you can fight that, you know.  Because it's only right that you overcome your genetic predispositions for the greater good of society and all that.  See you at the big scandal thing where we find out you're fucking some overpriced (probably gay) hooker behind your wife's back on the tax dollar... just like the rest of your kind.  See, we're on to you chakaare.  The more you mouth off about how bad, wrong or morally sucktastic some other group is... the higher the chances are you're just wallowing in your own guilt for secretly being one of them and hating yourself for it.  Grow up, you loser.

Thanksgiving rolls around and with it comes... turkey. 

I view turkey with that mixture of guarded skepticism and happy optimism I tend to reserve for foods that fall into this odd category I think of as Old Fashioned.  It's one of those sources of both weary resignation and much anticipation, just as any of the Old Fashioned Foods are.

You see, these are foods that require patience and work and attention.  They take the cook back to days when women spent their entire day in a kitchen to produce a single meal, daily.  These are old days, not often mourned by modern women.  Life hit fast forward and got stuck there, and so foods such as The Turkey have sunsetted into the realm of "special occasion" chow.

Despite the miracles of modern kitchen tech, there is no way to properly prepare The Turkey in less than three hours (unless you like frying the buggers).  By the end of hour one, your entire house is filled with the smell of turkey.  It's distinctive.  There aren't many Americans who can't identify it immediately.  I don't know anyone who isn't a Vegan (sworn enemy of all animal-based foodstuffs) who can walk into a house in which The Turkey is basting in the oven and fail to salivate.

This is the power of Old Fashioned Food.

Today, it is Turkey 2.0, the sequel.

My house smells like my grandmother's house did every year in November on back into history to the introduction of The Turkey to American traditional cooking.

Even my cat is haunting the kitchen.

But we'll all be helplessly drooling for another hour.

The Turkey will hurry for no man.

So here we are.  The High Holidays are upon us, showering us with social obligation and the pressure to bleed cash on crap despite the still looming financial mountain of doom.  Instead, there was a trip to look at tile and a nice warm bit of barbeque.  Which was fine with me. 

Housework isn't getting done.  It's just difficult and unmotivating when the husband's in the house, poking at hobbies and playing WoW and just generally being very present during the day.  Something in my head says "I get a vacation too" though that's not technically true.  There is no such thing as an at-home holiday for a housewife.  There are only periods of slowdown and slack.  Food still needs to find its way from components in fridge and cabinets onto a plate in some form that can be eaten.  The trash still needs to find its way into the big bin and out onto the street for the sanitation department to remove while I sleep.  The dishes don't magically wash themselves.  But the laundry is mounting and the dust is settling and the cat fur is finding its way over everything.  And I look at it all and say "later for you, I'm taking a break".

Of course in the end, I'll break down and do it all, scowling and muttering under my breath in Mandlish.  Just not today.

And really, it's not so terrible.  While the disruption in ritual can make me grumpy and tired, it's nice having him around without having to rush through the poking at each other and talking about things that mean absolutely nothing and just doing a sort of pointless, relaxed coexisting.  That part I like.  It's nice.

For now though, I think it's time for a snooze.

This man's words are nothing if not truth.  Love does not recognize gender, age, culture, caste, race or any other thing we use to divide ourselves one from the other.  All great religions embrace love in its many forms and expressions as the highest of virtues and bid their adherents to practice it on one another. 

In this, a nation whose citizens proclaim it to be the greatest of all countries to exist past or present and extol its ideals of equality, of freedom, of bravery and of enlightenment, do you, in your heart and your mind not find it curious that many of us would either by direct action or by lack of it condone eroding these virtues we so proudly proclaim to the rest of the world and to each other?

I tell you now, and I believe this to be an unshakable truth:  To deny ANY consenting adults who love one another the right to legally marry is darkest hypocracy.  To seek to deny this most basic of human rights to any consenting adults using religion as a justification is to deny the teachings of your faith and to defy the most basic foundations of your religious belief.  

You cannot have it both ways.

The United States of America cannot proclaim that it is the land of the free and retain the integrity of the words of its constitution and bill of rights... unless you are <insert minority here>.  It is very much an all or nothing proposition.  If we fail to grant the same rights and protections unilaterally to all who hold citizenship, then the entirety is a lie and a sham.

If the Church insists on tolerance and love in the name of God, or Christ, or the Prophet and urges all men to love one another, that does not exempt them from applying this to <insert minority here> simply because the very mortal, fallible and HUMAN leadership of their sect has an imperfect understanding of the universal nature of their divinity's ultimate will, much less the mistranslated, oft-manipulated and imperfect texts and scriptures.

If ANYone raises their voice and hand to defend family values and marriage, willfully denying things to others for any reason is a direct contradiction and works to tear down all of these things they claim to protect and respect.

Those who seek to destroy love and withhold dignity, respect and the rights they themselves hold serve their opposites, no matter what justifications they may try to tender.  These are cowardly, evil acts, though many of the people who perpetrate them are otherwise good, courageous and moral persons.

Contemplating this, while replaying the words of people I know who seem incapable of understanding it, I am moved to tears.  Because I am both touched by the truth of what this man has said and made nearly inconsolable by the knowledge that there are people I love who will never come to understand it who in their lack of understanding unknowingly commit a terrible evil.

Doctors in Germany say a patient appears to have been cured of Aids by a bone marrow transplant from a donor who had a genetic resistance to HIV.


Do we get our hopes up now?  Or do we maintain our stoic cynicism and maintain that this will either be left to fall by the wayside or made too expensive to help the millions who suffer this plague?  It's so hard to decide.