I went to walk the dog last night, after working late. It was around 10pm. The streets lit only by the rare passing car or sparce street lights.

A cool breeze brushed against my balding head. I put my hoodie on just as a car passed by in my mildly upper middle class neighborhood.

I thought to myself, I sure hope no one perceives me as a threat with these “Shoot me clothes” on.

My kids go to private Catholic school, as I did for at least for 7 years. Which is somewhat ironic seeing that I’m pretty far from religious and take issue with most aspects of almost all organized religions. That said, I see the value in his education having both an aspect of spirituality and higher academic expectations.

Once a week though, I have to either clarify, find fault with or denounce a Catholic/Christian teaching from school. This week, it’s Valentines Day. To be specific as my 6 year old son felt the need to make sure I do, “It’s “Saint” Valentines Day.”

His teacher drove home the point, that Valentine was a saint, and that we should refer to him as such. That not doing so, was “wrong.” That’s cool, but in my house nobody is wrong or right when it comes to religion. I won’t let my son subscribe to the thinking that “what my Christian teacher says is right” is always “right.” Instead, that it’s her opinion, and maybe the opinion of many devout Christians. In the end though, anyone can say it anyway they want. You, nor they have to subscribe to the view of the world through a Church’s eye.

So I just told him “Look, it’s not “Saint” Valentines. It’s Valentines. If you want to say “Saint” then do, but if someone doesn’t want to, that’s ok too.”

Many ethnicities within America have a day, week or even a month dedicated to historical and cultural recognition. If you have an issue with Black History month, you’re really taking issue with the marketing behind it. In which case, I’d agree with you. Like with white history – black, brown, red and yellow history should be celebrated daily.

See how I still managed to make that mildly offensive?

You’ve probably heard of the infamous “burning out” of Dave Chappelle after his success on Comedy Central. When interviewed by Oprah he gave a bit of context to why he so abruptly walked away form the million dollar contracts.

One particular sketch still disturbs Dave today. The skit was about a pixie (played by Dave) who appeared in black face, which Dave describes as the “visual personification of the n-word.”

“There was a good-spirited intention behind it,” Dave says. “So then when I’m on the set, and we’re finally taping the sketch, somebody on the set [who] was white laughed in such a way—I know the difference of people laughing with me and people laughing at me—and it was the first time I had ever gotten a laugh that I was uncomfortable with. Not just uncomfortable, but like, should I fire this person?”

Cite: Oprah.com

This past weekend, I went to see the movie “Chronicle” with my wife. At the beginning, already annoyed by the heavily teen audience with their texting, giggling and talking as the movie started. The movie is about 3 guys who stumble upon some mysterious object, and obtain special powers. It’s very honest in that they don’t try and be super hero’s. They’re just teens, messing around and having fun, until someone ultimately goes to the dark side.

Well, before that happens a scene plays out that I’ve seen in the trailer for months. The black kid in the trio moves a woman’s car with telekenis across a parking lot. When the woman returns to find her car missing he says “It really was the black guy this time.” When I saw it on the trailer, I laughed. When I saw it in the movie, I laughed. But these kids… 99 percent of which are suburban white kids, in a town with less than 4% poverty and a median household income of over $175K… COULD. NOT. STOP. LAUGHING.

As my wife and I chuckled, the humor faded when we realized the intensity with which the audience found it funny. I thought to myself, “ok… yeah, your laughing too fucking hard.” That’s a Dave Chappelle moment, when you realize as a minority people are laughing AT you, and not WITH you.

In our never ending reach for a post racial society, minorities wether it be racial, gender or otherwise based tend to poke fun at the elephant in the room. It’s natural. The goal, to laugh at the stereotype. Mark it as stupid and not worth serious thought. But occasionally that attempt to poke fun backfires, and one has to reevaluate.

I can’t big up a man that takes his own life. Don, you went out like a chump. That was some real weak shit.

Word is, rapper Jay-Z has decided to ban the word “bitch” from future lyrics after the birth of his daughter. To that I say:

Jay, that was a real bitch move.

Let’s play the stereotype statistics game. Hip Hop, the majority of which is performed or penned by men. A big part of most male MC’s persona is toughness. Which based on some of their backgrounds, much like my own, tends to defines you as a man. At least to other men. What’s interesting though is that these men, also like myself, are often raised by women. Mothers, aunts, big sisters and grandmothers.

Our cultural plight aside, most MC’s from the start offer nothing but love and kind words to the women in their lives that have made them who they are. But bitches, well they don’t get shit. No respect. No love. Just some minimum wage dancing gigs on the latest video shoot.

So not only as Noah Mittman points out:

So Jay-Z learns that “bitch” is disrespectful to women after having a daughter, but not after getting married…

Not even his mother, who bought him his first Boom Box was enough of a strong female figure to make him avoid the word “bitch” in his lyrics and every day speak. Though I doubt fatherhood is the cause for his new found respect for woman as a whole. It’s just principle, and that’s ok. My issue is just that we celebrate the epiphany rather than resolve the root cause of the problem.

For what it’s worth, wouldn’t it be funny if the whole story/rumor turned out to be made up. Created by an aggressive Women’s Rights campaign. I’d find that so much more entertaining, and yet even that would be a bitch move.

My mother spent some time video chatting with the kids yesterday and asked my son “Why was Martin Luther King Jr so special?” where my son replied:

He changed the rules. He wanted white kids to be able to play with brown kids. Like, if you were from India you could only play with Indian kids.

So simple and to the point.

Hello everybody, it’s Mr Contrarian here. I’d like to take a moment to air out my grivances with the “War on Christmas.”

I say happy holidays at the office, at the gym and at the beer and wine. Not because I’m oversensitive, a politician or a Jesus hating zealot. I say happy holidays because I’m considerate. That doesn’t change the fact that I have a Christmas tree up in my house, and that I tell my kids we’re celebrating Christmas. I sing Christmas songs, and even sang Happy Birthday Jesus over breakfast yesterday. No really, I did.

But if you’re of the offensive type and feel as though Christmas is being assaulted I ask you: “Who put the presents under your tree?” If you tell your kids it was Santa, your either an idiot or a liar. You can’t claim there is a war on Christmas when you don’t make an effort to make Christmas about Christ in your own home.

If there had been a war on Christmas, Santa Clause won. Shut up and enjoy your family. Open presents if you’re lucky enough to have received them, be thankful if you were lucky enough to have given them.

Last week, I had the unfortunate timing of being at the gym at the same time a High School JV lacrosse team came in to work out. My run now complete, soon to be free from their adolescent conversations — selfish complaints from the spoiled and wealthy, tempered only by what seemed to be a self-censor put in place to not expose their reality to strangers.

That censor was gone though, as most the adults had left the changing room and I was the only one in the shower to overhear a surprisingly candid conversation among who I assume by their looks were sophomores. A group of about 3 went back and forth declaring their name brand wants, when one kid said this as though he was reading a monologue:

Dude, face it. We buy stuff because of the brand. Most Dockers and Timberlands are basically the same, but we’ll pay 20% more for the Tims. Just because of the name, but that’s cool. We’re privileged, embrace it! We’re not paying for it, so what does it matter. One day, we’ll have to buy that stuff for ourselves; and then one day, we’ll be the ones buying it for someone else.

Outside is Childish’s way of introducing you to what his life was like—explaining how he got to where he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. He’s hoping to shatter your preconceptions. Successful or not, it comes off as self-pitying, feel-sorry-for-me whining. Like much of the album.

Bonfire is a lame attempt at battle rap, with Childish trying to define himself as being as lyrical and clever as he is animated. I doubt he expects his tough talk to be taken seriously, but I still find the over-the-top shock-rap rhymes delivered to be overcompensating for a piece of his personality that he claims to take great pride in. He’s a nice and talented guy, that doesn’t want to be judged for not being a stereotypical tough black guy.

I appreciate All The Shine  because he’s honest and being himself—rapping about dick jokes, his lack of fashion sense and being “lame.” That said, the song starts off stronger than it ends and whoever is singing on the hook—it might be Childish himself—needs to be choked.

Just when I was about to say this sing/rap record is going into the trash,Backpackers comes on. So far, this is as hip-hop as Childish can be.

If Childish really wanted to make a point and get people talking, the entire Camp album would sound more like Hold You Down. He says, “White kids get to wear whatever hat they want. When it comes to black kids one size fits all.” His subject matter is biting and honest. His cadence and flow are perfection, as he takes his time to say exactly how he really feels. Being black in America is hard. What’s harder? Being black and not letting that define you. Even when your own community judges you for not living up to a preconceived image.

Sunrise and The Power are decent closeout tracks for the album. Unfortunately, the standout tracks are drowned out by other mediocre ones. Not worth the money or time, in my book. Camp would be better released as a 5 song EP. It would be a solid well rounded extended play.