On Frank Ocean, and Why 'Gay' Shouldn't Even Matter Anymore

I know I wasn't the only near-sighted person to almost have a seizure trying to read this.

BBQ's aren't my really forte. You can invite me to a barbecue, though. I might go. But most likely I'll think about going, and either go hang out with my closest friends or bury myself in books and reruns of Chopped. It's not that I don't enjoy the prospect of grilling food with family, friends, and an assortment of complete strangers. It's that small talk gets boring. 'Where are you working?' 'How's your mom?' 'Are you going back to school?' 'How about those Yankees?' 'You see what Mitt Romney did last week?' 'What was Evelyn thinking on last week's episode?' There are always some topics that get breached constantly in loose small talk.

This Independence Day, among the hordes of hamburger-fancying twenty-somethings, the subject at hand was Frank Ocean's heartfelt message to accompany his upcoming album Channel Orange. There were toasts to Frank's liberation, to his prowess as an artist, and to the open-mindedness of Odd Future for accepting his status. Frank Ocean was the man of the hour everywhere without being anywhere.

For a loose interpreter wary of Frank's (in addition to OF as a whole) knack for picking archaic language and rosy prose over strict meaning, such as myself, I found everyone taking Frank's letter as a coming out with mixed feelings. Nowhere in the letter did the OF crooner say the word gay, bisexual, or anything related to sexual orientation. He just said he loved a man. I think in this day and age, no thanks to Anderson Cooper, everyone is jumping to find a revolutionary idol of sorts: someone who, for them, can represent everything positive about a marginalized group and serve of a bastion of the group's accomplishment within the greater majority. The letter gave hope and shouting rights to fighters of sexual liberty. That it happened on Independence Day only served to amplify the fact that a post-sexual society is on the horizon, but not here yet.

One of the things I ponder a lot is whether we're even really in a post-racial society. Yeah, my President is black and my Lambo is blue. But since the man's taken office, there's been more working against him than for him. Birthers, Tea Partiers, Mitt Romney, and Bible Belters will say that nothing about their hatred for Barry O has to do with race, but the undercurrent is too great to ignore. I think as long as the construct of race still exists in that it can be used as a basis for anything other than physical identification, we're not in a post-racial society. In the same way, as long as society keeps mentioning 'gay' or 'straight' or 'bisexual' or 'bath salt users' as a delineation, instead of a trait of the greater person, we're not past sexual preference as an issue.

It's like the old saying, 'It's not what they call you, it's what you answer to.' Frank Ocean's sexuality shouldn't even be an issue. If there wasn't a name for a sexual preference or any stigma attached to it, would it be an issue? In this day and age, where flashes in the pan are the norm, it suffices to say that there'll be another celebrity to come out of the closet and everyone will laud their bravery at barbecues and in between meetings and at happy hours. It will become the small talk of that week, and that person's status will be debated hotly because sexual preference still is a taboo topic. Not in a post-sexual society.

In this post-sexual society I imagine, your spouse will be your spouse, male or female. People won't shudder at two fathers, and there won't be a 'down low'. The words 'transgender' and 'transexual' won't mean anything anymore. Two women utilizing in vitro fertilization will be widely accepted. Post-sexual society will affect more than sexual preference, too. No one will give a damn about abortions, or womb rights, or being pro-life or pro-choice. Just like the M and F you cross out on forms, anything related to sex will become an afterthought. If we don't even mention it, it will cease to be important. It might even become one of those 'don't touch' topics like politics or religion that polite, civilized people scoff at in public (that's another post in and of itself) and hold strong opinions about behind closed doors. Who knows? The only sure thing is that Frank Ocean loved a man. Any person with a father, brother, uncle, cousin, mentor, or friend can say the same. I think that's the first step to sexuality not mattering: letting love be, regardless of who or what the target is. Lord knows we loved Frank Ocean's music before.

Hip-Hop's Basketball Team

Basketball and hip-hop culture are damn near brothers cousins... Well, they're just related, very closely. Since the late 1980's hip-hop lore has laced the hardwood through players, teams, the gear that those entities wore and the music going along with them all. Movies like White Men Can't Jump, Above the Rim, Hoop Dreams, He Got Game (and sadly Like Mike) feature hip-hop music and culture centered around hoops. Rappers and ball-players have notable friendships and romantic relationships (RIP Trina and Kenyon Martin). Ballers like Shaq, Allen Iverson and sadly Kobe Bryant ventured into hip-hop, attempting to capitalize on their fame in the opposite arena. But what about rappers who try their hand at basketball? Dear Whoever now examines those (literally) crossover artists, putting together a team of the best rappers ternt ballers, and who would make the cut on hip-hop's basketball team. Who did I miss? Would your squad be able to go up against mine?

Honorable Mentions:
Mike Jones
Slim Thug
Nelly
Lil' Flip

Cam'Ron & Ma$e


We all know Cam and Ma$e from their days rapping together as a part of the Harlem collective 'Children of the Corn'. Little do most people know that Killa Cam and Murda Ma$e didn't meet through rap, but because they were childhood buddies that played basketball together in high school. In this clip, you see Cam putting on a show for a high school championship game, with Ma$e making a cameo. If I had to start a team, Cam would have to be the point guard and main playmaker with the way he gets into the lane and finishes...


The Game and Snoop Dogg


California, and most notably, Los Angeles are a hot bed for rap and basketball talent. Brandon Jennings and Jrue Holiday aren't the only ones making knees buckle, though. Uncle Snoop and his nephew the Game both draw crowds whenever the step onto the hardwood (pause). The Cali duo do some damage against one another in this charity tournament. Snoop wows the crowd with some well placed handles, while the Game takes athleticism into his game, doing some high-flying layups and put backs. Sure, Snoop is older than basketball and Game brings little else to the table, but every squad needs role-players...

Jadakiss


Al-Quaeda Jada is already hoops-famous in my book for his forays into basketball stardom with Allen Iverson in the early 2000s (two of my favorite basketball commercials here and here). But who knew the Yonkers representative could ball like this? And at an actual tournament to boot? Jada makes some quick fans here, balling out of control with Nate Robinson on his team. How does A-HCHAAAAAAHHH!! *Jadakiss voice* sound as a team battle cry?

Joell Ortiz


Joell Ortiz is a heavyweight on the mic. That's no secret. Being a heavyweight on the court doesn't always make for good basketball though. Joell disproves that notion in this video, putting the shakes on a few unlucky cats who thought it would be hilarious to see the Brooklyn MC take on the roundball. Joell shows he knows how to pull off the pick-and-roll seamlessly, driving to the net and LeBron-ing some hooper straight into a chorus of OOOOOOOHHHHHH's. Any man that can control his weight in motion like that can definitely be on Dear Whoever's squad.

Chris Brown


Okay, so Chris Breezy isn't a rapper. He's as likely to get killed in a verse than he is in domestic abuse court (is it too early to make jokes about that?). That doesn't mean that the R&B swooner can't hold his own up against some of And 1's best. And that he does, crossing up one of the streetballers for a nice layup... Only to get the ball stripped when he tries to pull off a next level move. That's okay for Chris, though. He gets the nod on Dear Whoever's team simply for making Bow Wow rethink his then-aspirations to play basketball professionally. The below video is an ironic microcosm of how play can mirror work perfectly. RIP to Bow Wow... and his layup.