Drake, king of the wheelchair-rolling, light skinned rapping Emos, has finally opened up about the traumatic experience of being threatened with Amanda Bynes’ nether regions.
In an blurb from the 16thanniversary issue of XXL Magazine, which goes on sale August 20, Drake finally broke his silence about being uncomfortable when the former Disney starlet began tweeting to him disparaging remarks about his looks, including a request that he “murder her v*gina:”
“I don’t even know who that is doing that or what that’s about. If that is her, I guess it’s a little weird and disturbing. It’s obviously a behavioral pattern that is way bigger than me. Whoever is behind it, whether it’s her or somebody else, they know people are paying attention so they keep it going.”
There is no doubt that Bynes, who was recently (and finally) hospitalized after months of crazy talk about a whole host of folks, is suffering from some sort of mental issue. And in all seriousness (because mental illness is real out here, folks) I hope she gets the help she needs. But much to my chagrin, is the irony of Drake, a rapper, labeling Bynes vulgar objectification of him as “weird” and “disturbing” and completely dismissing it as an obvious “behavioral pattern that is way bigger” than him.
I know he isn’t talking. Are we, or are we not talking about smooth crooning Drake, whose “I’m-not-afraid-to-be-in-touch-with-my-emotions” style of lyricism largely exists out of aggression and hyper masculinity of what we normally associate with hip-hop? But even through his Mr. Sensitivity, lady-swooning rap, Drake still manages to treat women like objects as opposed to actual human beings. Like in the song, “Lord Knows,” when he said:
“I know that they tryin’ to push me/I know that showin’ emotion don’t ever mean I’m a p*ssy/Know that I don’t make music for niggas that don’t get p*ssy/So those are the ones I count on to dis me or overlook me.”
Because while he is rubbing your back and dabbing your tears away, he is still trading your v*gina as a commodity for street cred and “real” manhood. And that is pretty much the theme in most of Drake’s music. While he is telling you how you make him proud, he is saying it to you while you are giving him a lap dance. And while he is telling you to not get confused, that you are the best he ever had, he’s also saying it with a basketball team of big-breasted women bouncing around him. Basically, Drake is just the verbal manifestation of the one patronizing guy, who has basically mastered the art of treating you like a “b***h” without actually calling you one (even though occasionally he’ll do just that, especially if you fail to show up in the gym for practice).
That’s why I always find it amusing when the fellas find themselves on the other end of the objectification lens. Far too often, it is women, who have been reduced and compartmentalized down to a few body parts to be bragged about or disparaged. And far too often, we are told to take it as flattery. But here we have Drake, a person who makes a pretty good living off of fun and lyrically good songs about objectifying women, being reduced by Bynes down to his single organ. And guess what? He doesn’t like it very much. Talk about a double standard.