The Brief and Wonderous Life of No Homo

Dipset's Juelz Santana coined the ubiquitous term "No Homo" in 2003's "Santana's Town" when he proclaimed "no homo but they cocking them/Four-fos and glocks and them." 5 years later and "No Homo" is still going strong and is practically a movement onto itself (especially if you've been around teenage boys at all in the last 5 years). People have been trying to understand the "No Homo" phenomenon and now Hip-Hop blogger Jay Smooth of illdoctine.com is weighing in on the matter. Jay recently released a new clip called "A Beginners Guide to No Homo" where he attempts to breaks down the origin and meaning of the phrase "No Homo," for those who may have been living under a rock. Check out the clip...

As always Jay Smooth is funny as hell and does an excellent job pointing out just how stupid and out of control the "No Homo" phenomenon has gotten in both hip-hop culture.

While I agree with Jay Smooth's points, I definitely think that their is more to the "No Homo" phenomenon than meets the eye. The phrase is often used to demonstrate hip-hop's rampant homophobia, and while I agree that saying "No Homo" every five seconds might qualify as homophobic, I think it is more complex than that and deserves serious scholarly interest and attention. I think it is interesting to consider the time frame when the phrase "No Homo" really gained popularity in hip hop culture. In 2003 and particularly 2004 with the release of J.L. King's On the Down Low, black men and their sexuality became subjects of national inquiry. Perhaps, "No Homo" gained momentum as a form of backlash against this inquiry. That doesn't make "No Homo" any less homophobic, but I think it gives us an appropriate context in which to consider the popularity of the phrase "No Homo" among young Black and Latino men involved in hip hop culture

Oprah and J.L. King basically set up a witch-hunt to smoke out brothers on the DL, offering paranoid girlfriends, wives, and causal observers 10 ways to spot a man on the DL. Check out J.L. King's website, breeding suspicion and fear is his bread and butter.


At the height of a cultural moment when anything could be used to prove that you're on the DL, the development of a defense mechanism like "No Homo" seemed almost inevitable. Throw in all the time, money, and marketing going into creating hypermasculine imagery, and the almost exclusively male atmosphere in hip-hop and there you have it..."No Homo."

There are actually some scholars doing interesting work on homoerotism and homosociality within hip-hop culture. I saw two excellent panel presentations at the Race, Sex, Power: New Movements in Black and Latino/a Sexuality conference at University Illinois-Chicago this past April.

Antonia Randolph, Assistant Professor of Black American Studies at University of Delaware, presented a paper entitled “Stuntin’ Like My Daddy”: Managing Homosocial Intimacy Through Speaking Homophobia In Hip-Hop Culture, that explored hip-hop culture's possessive investment in Lil Wayne and Baby's heterosexuality and (hyper)masculinity.


Randolph argued that despite evidence that might point to a homosexual relationship between rappers Lil Wayne and Baby, the hip-hop community and segments of the Black community cannot afford to cast aside these two successful young Black men from New Orleans and are actively attempting to recoup the duos heterosexuality and masculinity. What is important is not whether Baby and Lil Wayne are or are not in a sexual relationship, but the way that the hip-hop community, more so than the two rappers, are invested in protecting Baby and Lil Wayne's heterosexuality in order to deploy them as "positive" and "successful" role models of Black masculinity.

Laurence Ralph, a Ph.D. student in the department of anthropology at the University of Chicago, presented a conference paper entitled Out of the Closet, in the Club with Kells: Homophobia and Homoeroticism in Hip-hop.


Ralph's presentation explored homoerotism in R. Kelly's lyrics particularly in his song "I'm a Flirt," featuring rappers T-Pain and T.I. Ralph argued that what the song demonstates is a climate of oneupmanship and male compitition in which men are the objects of attention and women serve as the conduits for that attention. For instance, he argued that T.I.'s lyrics where he describes how and what he will do to another man's woman serves as a homoerotic moment where T.I. is inviting other men to recognize and admire his sexual prowess. T.I. is demonstrating that prowess not for the benefit of his female sexual partner but for an unknown male spectator. Many times in hip-hop's more sexualized lyrics we see that women are not the targets for those lyrics, but instead they are often directed at other men.

I think that by moving away from a position that solely critiques hip-hop for being homophobic, misogynistic and heterosexist, we can see the ways in which alternative gender norms and sexualities are performed in hip-hop. Randolph and Ralph's work make way for productive conversations and analysis of queer agency within hip-hop while also allowing us to critique the things that need critiquing.

Does anyone else know anybody who is doing interesting work on queerness, homoeroticism, or homosociality in hip-hop?

In the meantime, enjoy this clip from Boondocks, that lampoons the unspoken homoeroticism in hip-hop ...

Judd Apatow and the Art of White Masculinity

“That shit is SO fuckin’ homo”

So I finally saw Pineapple Express this weekend and throughout the whole movie the men around me were constantly expressing how “fucking gay” the movie was. I left there thinking about the two very different displays of masculinity I had just witnessed in the movie theater. The men in the audience, who were mostly young men of color in their late-teens/early-twenties, were attempting to (re)affirm their masculinity through homophobic and sexist comments in response to the perceived lack of masculinity they saw on the screen. On the screen however the cast of Pineapple Express (most of whom are white men with the exception of Craig Robinson) were celebrating their homosocial (but not homosexual) affection for each other and their outsider status as members of the informal economy. I thought about the ways that homosociality functions not only in Pineapple Express but in Judd Apatow movies generally as a comment on the state of contemporary white masculinity in American society.

For those of you who might not know who Judd Apatow is, he’s the writer and/or producer of many of the successful “Frat Pack” movies including: Pineapple Express, Step Brothers, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, Superbad, Knocked Up, Talladega Nights, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and Anchorman. He’s was also the Executive Producer of the cult TV show Freaks and Geeks on NBC.


Yeah, he’s that guy.

Critics and audiences alike have wondered whether the characters in Apatow’s films, especially Superbad, might be gay. In Superbad, Seth is so obsessed with dicks that he used to compulsively draw them as a kid and talks about them non-stop throughout the entire film. Towards the end of the film Evan and Seth share a "tender moment" where they exchange “I love you’s” and Evan says he wants to go scream from the rooftops that he loves Seth. Those “tender moments” have become a staple in Apatow’s films and Pineapple Express is no exception. At one point in Pineapple Express Danny McBride’s character tells James Franco’s characters that he’s happy they’re best friends and continues by saying “I want to be inside you.”

I don’t think Apatow’s films say anything about sexuality that is specifically homosexual or homophobic, but I do think his films rely on homosociality to demonstrate the ways in which white masculinity has been “wounded” by the feminist, gay, and civil rights movements. In Apatow’s movies we see an entire generation of white men who rely on each other for a sense of validation and understanding, a generation of men who in many ways by refusing to grow-up are able to avoid facing the reality of changing power structures in American society.

In a New York Times article on Apatow Jon Kasdan, who also worked on Freaks and Geeks, said:

“The culture in the last 5, 10 years is one of shame and humiliation, and Judd gets that. Part of the experience of being a man in this postmodern life is humiliation, and wearing it as something to be proud of. This is a true frustration that Judd is expressing in his work, almost a romanticized version of being a schlub.”

What is interesting is that in Apatow movies arrested development is presented as the solution to dealing with the frustration of being a “schlub.” People of color, women and gays (particularly white gay men) have more visibility, if not power, in contemporary society – the question that Apatow’s character are trying to work out is “where does this leave me?” While Apatow’s films don’t directly say it, they certainly show us that white masculinity ain’t what it used to be for the groups of white male friends that the stories center on. Apatow’s characters exist in a universe that is almost completely male and almost completely white, their existence in this world of their own making is like an attempt to recreate the “old boys clubs” of their father’s and grandfather’s generations.

Think of AMC’s critically acclaimed TV show Mad Men, I think it is no coincidence that a show that literally portrays that “old boys club” has generated so much attention and ratings. In Mad Men and Pineapple Express you see the trajectory of white masculinity, Mad Men presents us with the cracks beginning to show in white masculinity’s façade, while Judd Apatow’s movies ask “How the fuck did we end up here … but since we’re here lets get high and play Guitar Hero.”

“Both Ways Barack” Tries to Put Candidate in Compromising Position

As you have probably already heard MTV has aired its first political ad ever, and surprisingly it was an anti-Obama ad. The new ad says Barack Obama “wants to have them all, both ways. He’s ‘Both Ways Barack.’ Worse than a flip-flopper.”

Is it just me or does anyone else seem troubled by conservative group Let Freedom Ring’s choice of terminology in the new “Both Ways Barack” political attack ads? To me the ad is both incredibly weak and incredibly affective and powerful in attacking Obama. While the flip-flopping argument is a pretty weak and easily dismissible accusation, by subconsciously associating Obama and his politics with the phrase “both ways” the Right is attempting to subtly discredit Obama’s masculinity and sexuality in the minds of American voters.

Similar to the criticisms that bi-sexual individuals regularly receive from both gay and straight people, the ad charges that Obama can’t be trusted to stick to a position (no pun intended) and is therefore deceptive and/or inexperienced. I also find it interesting that they apply the “both ways” label to Obama considering the media frenzy around brothers on the DL. Black men who go “both ways,” have been villainized and scrutinized in the mainstream media and part of me wonders whether the ad was trying to subconsciously tap into that dominant fear, resentment, and distrust, of Black men by using words associated with DL discourse.

Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but with that word choice I sincerely doubt that it’s just coincidence. Check out the ad for yourself...

Rick Ross C.O. Fiasco

So as many of you have probably heard TheSmokingGun.com has verified that rapper Rick Ross did indeed work as a Corrections Officer in Florida for 18 months. Ross, who has built his career on the idea that he was a big time coke dealer and hustler in Miami's Dade County attempted to deny the reports until TSG was able to obtain paystubs from the Florida Department of Corrections.


The backlash against Ross has been really harsh. The way that people are reacting to the news it makes sense that Ross would try to cover this up. In the long run I really don't get why people are bugging over this, Ross did what what every other rapper on the planet is guilty of doing: creating a commercially viable hypermasculine alter-ego. If you think Jay-Z and them were actually pushing weight and busting rounds you need to get real. Most of the rappers out there are no different than actors, and I don't mean that in a disparraging way, they're providing their audience with entertainment in the same way an actor in an action film would. This Rick Ross business is the equivilant of getting heated at Tarantino because he doesn't have bodies under his belt.


Cornell Dews astutely asks us to really consider the absurdity of this situation:

Has the COINTEL PRO infiltrated hip hop? I swear we’re working on some counter intelligence shit. As a community we’re thinking the wrong way; contrary to the right course; in the reverse or opposite direction, which is by definition counter intelligence. Check this out. We’re mad if you “lied” about knowing Noriega and the claim that he owes you a hundred favors. But we applaud if you do know Noriega from (we’re assuming) past dealings which meant that you was involved in drug trafficking that helped lead to the destruction of the same community from which we come. We’re mad if you “lied” about the money you made on the streets and the “bodies” you caught in the process, when in actuality you graduated high school and attended a historically black college on an athletic scholarship. Which we can derive meant you were a decent student athlete. We’re mad if you “lied” about going to prison, when instead you worked at one. Can’t yall see that we’re mad about the wrong shit?

For Dew's full post click here.

Personally, I like Rick Ross and I hope his career isn't destroyed over such stupid shit. Maybe he'll start talking about his experience as a C.O. I got to say though, it would be way more interesting to hear him talk about his experience as a black man working in the prison-industrial-complex, then the same old rhymes about guns, drugs, and women.

Reconsidering Brokeback

So last week with all the hoopla about The Dark Knight and Heath Ledger’s posthumous performance as the Joker, a friend and I landed on the topic of Brokeback Mountain.

“So how do you feel about Brokeback?”

I confessed that I actually owned the film on DVD and enjoyed it quite a bit when I first saw it. I still think that the film has some of the most breathtaking cinematography I have seen in a long time. What I hated about Brokeback was the hyped up mainstream celebration of the film and the lack of critical race and sexuality analysis. For me, seeing the film in a theater packed with gay white men in Chelsea, I noticed the film became a collective moment for the predominantly Anglo audience to share their despair at the fact that there was no happy ending for the two white male protagonists.

In April I attended the Race, Sex, Power: New Movements in Black and Latino/a Sexualities Conference at UIC and heard a presentation by Jeffrey Q. McCune Jr. entitled “Brokeback Ain’t Black.” The paper McCune presented spoke about the ways in which Brokeback reified the idea of coming out as necessary and the only route to freedom from the oppression of the closet (as if queers face no oppression outside of the closet). The film leaves you feeling that if Jack and Ennis had come out to themselves and others they would have been able to live an honest and open life with each other, ensuring their happy ending. McCune argued that because the two protagonist were white they were able to escape the stigmatization of the “Down Low” label. While Jack and Ennis see their secret moments at Brokeback as precious and their silence as necessary, contemporary audiences are provided cues in order to recognize their relationship as from another era. Because the film is set in the American West from 1963- 1983 their relationship is seen as quaint and antiquated. The film is historicized in such a way that it positions the timeframe of the film as a distant time where discretion and silence were the norms and violently enforced (as if that is still not the case for many queers of color and gender non-conforming queers). This allows contemporary audiences, and by extension society, to congratulate themselves on how far gay rights have come.

Check out this excerpt from "Probing the 'Brokeback Syndrome'":

One label Jack and Ennis rarely, if ever, get tagged with is “men on the down low,” even though they are married and have children, but still secretly sleep with men. Boykin, who is black and co-founder of the National Black Justice Coalition, a black gay rights group, says this represents a “racial double standard” since the relationship between Jack and Ennis is heralded as an epic love story instead of a threat to other people.

“It’s not really the term [down low] that matters, it’s what the term implies—and when you hear ‘down low,’ you don’t think good things, you think evil and deceptive,” Boykin says. “We’re more willing to consider the nuances of why [Jack and Ennis] are doing this, instead of seeing them as pathological the way we do with black men.”

For the full article click here

Brokeback succeeds in reinforcing the idea that the down low is unnecessary, antiquated, and ultimately wrong in contemporary mainstream gay culture. Black and Latino/a queer culture's attempt to embrace terms like “Down Low,” “MSM” (men who have sex with men), and “women who love women” as identities and markers are seen as aberrations rather than strategic attempts to redefine both mainstream gay culture and Black/Latino/a culture.

While I am set in the idea that Brokeback enforces and celebrates hegemonic mainstream gay male culture, my friend made me consider something positive about the way that white masculinity is dealt with in the film. He told me that what he really appreciated about the film was the way that Brokeback shows the way that hegemonic masculinity and heteropatriarchial society can crush a person. He cited the scene at the end of the film when Ennis is almost dancing with Jack’s bloodied denim shirt as a moment when the devastating effects of heteropatriarchy are made real. I agree with him that the film does show the brutality of normative hegemony, and succeeds in doing so through sparse dialogue, beautiful cinematography, and intense images of isolation which are more accessible to mainstream audiences.

I like Brokeback, and I think it is an important cultural artifact, but I also applaud academics and politicos like Jeffrey Q. McCune Jr., Keith Boykin, and others who are bringing critical race theory to the table in order for us to consider the impact of the film on the entire queer community.