There was big news in the Philadelphia this week, when four police officers were fired because of their role in a May 5th fight. Twelve officers attacked three suspects following a pursuit, and apparently beat the living shit out of them. The CNN article made it sound pretty bad, but when I tried watching the news chopper footage, I found out I’d have to sit through a 15-second Marriott Hotels ad first, so I guess we’ll never know. I mean, really, I just want to see some police brutality, don’t try to make me watch commercials.

The reason this story is big – as you may have guessed – is because of race. Of the 12 officers, most were white. All of the suspects who got beat up were black.

Now, I don’t know who was right and who was wrong in this situation. I don’t know whether the suspects instigated the fight, or if the police failed to exercise proper restraint.

What I do know is this: Any time race comes into the picture, whether it’s this or any other situation, things get a little sticky.

We like to think we’ve come a long way since the 1950s, but there’s still a good deal of racial tension in our country. As a white guy, I’m hesitant to say anything about this story, because I fear that my words could be misinterpreted. Race is such a touchy subject, and it feels like we’re all constantly walking on eggshells. That’s why I have a strict policy to never say anything bad about a black person under any circumstances. In fact, I won’t even say anything that could be considered remotely controversial. Actually, just to be safe, I don’t like to talk about black people at all. Or to them. I know how easily words can be misinterpreted, so I make sure that I never say a word to a black person ever. I also prefer not to look at them, just in case my look is misinterpreted as some bigoted glance. So whenever a black guy walks by me on the street and smiles or says hello, I immediately look away, then scoff and mutter “my God,” in order to display my displeasure with the social stigmas that create these horrible barriers between the races. Then I usually say something to the effect of “there goes the neighborhood,” because I think it’s unfortunate that I live in a neighborhood where black and white people can’t live in harmony. Then I duck my head straight down and hustle away as quickly as possible. Cause, you know, I don’t want anyone to think I’m racist.