I know more than I want to know about HIV and AIDS from being in a densely-packed city during my young adulthood and watching the whole thing start up during the Reagan Admin and go on from there.
I am a straight woman, but maybe a third of my neighbors in the arts community where I lived were gay—this had been the “let it all hang out” and Studio 54 era; so my age-mates were on the front lines before proper care or these so-called “prep” drugs were developed. I was fortunate to be a teetotaling Christian, in that world but not “of” that world, witnessing what they called the “gay plague” hit dozens of my work colleagues or acquaintances—craftsmen, musicians, artists, writers, chefs, designers, waiters, bartenders, hairdressers, college professors, even healthcare workers.
I was renovating houses. Gay guys are great at that—strong like men but artistic like women, didn't dismiss and counteract my design ideas, didn't make passes while we worked. But I was extremely careful if any worked on my projects, including renovating my own residences and my historic church. I isolated drinking glasses discreetly and washed my hands frequently, sprayed with disinfectant any surfaces they may have handled after they left. Obviously I'm still here. But I avoided contact, even a handshake, unlike their personal partners.
It was awful hearing that one after another get the news that they were HIV and was eventually consumed by the disease. I only kept track of one friend of two decades all the way to the end—a 6-foot man reduced to 75 lbs at death.
This was the monolithic belligerent attitude from homosexuals; there could have been some exceptions that I missed, but for the most part they ALL blamed society: "homophobia," lack of sufficient healthcare, inability to "marry," etc. They are STILL doing this, x10.
So my attitude is "enjoy your AIDS. You asked for it."