I cannot believe I was studying this speech as history in grade school 25 years ago and we are STILL not there. To think my parents were fascinated that Michael Jackson was breaking color barriers 25 years ago. They noted the changing times as their white daughter innocently fell in love with Michael and was completely blind to the color of his skin. They understood how much of a groundbreaking cultural phenomenon Michael was at the time. The future seemed so bright for equality and tollerance. What happened? It's like this country has been frozen in time culturally for 25 years.
Dr. King's words bring tears to my eyes every time.
[center:1152cc5b]I HAVE A DREAM [/center:1152cc5b]
[center:1152cc5b](Martin Luther King, Jr.)[/center:1152cc5b]
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves, who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must ever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecutions and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. And this will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!" And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring -- from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring -- from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring -- from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring -- from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring -- from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that.
Let freedom ring -- from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring -- from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring -- from every hill and molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual,
"Free at last, free at last.
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."
"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."
I examined the page and saw a thing at the bottom titled "Media." I clicked it and one of the links is about an episode of The Boondocks called "Return of the King."
"Return of the King" is the ninth episode of the animated television series The Boondocks, airing on Cartoon Network as part of its Adult Swim programming. It was originally broadcast on January 15, 2006, which would have been Martin Luther King, Jr.'s 77th birthday. The episode's name was taken from the The Lord of the Rings volume The Return of the King. It won a Peabody Award in 2006.
PLOT:
The episode begins with two quotes, the first being:
“ I want young men and young women who are alive today to know and see that these new privileges and opportunities did not come without somebody suffering and sacrificing for them. ”
-Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
And the second:
“ Whatever, nigga. ”
-Anonymous
Huey Freeman tells an alternative version of history regarding the "attempted" assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. On April 4, 1968 King is shot and critically wounded. Instead of dying, he falls into a coma in which he remains for 32 years, waking up significantly aged in a hospital bed on October 27, 2000. He shows up to vote for the 2000 U.S. presidential election, but is "turned away due to voting irregularity". While walking along a city street which happened to bear his name, gunshots go off, causing the gathered crowd to flee. He thus learns that "streets named after him weren't the very safest."
King experiences a resurgence of popularity, obtaining a book deal and agreeing to a biopic of his life (starring Cuba Gooding, Jr. as King). The movie is directed by Oliver Stone, "pissing off" Spike Lee (a reference to Lee's anger that Norman Jewison was initially supposed to direct Malcolm X) Unfortunately, the movie is released the week after the 9/11 attacks, making it a flop. Soon after, King appears on Politically Incorrect, stating that his Christian faith teaches him to "turn the other cheek", even with respect to enemies such as Al-Qaeda. His commentary receives severe scorn from the White House Press Secretary, CNN and Time magazine, and causes his popularity to plummet.
At his vacant book signing, King meets Huey and Robert Freeman, the latter of whom he is acquainted with from the Civil Rights era (it is later revealed in the episode that Robert Freeman participated in the Montgomery Bus Boycott with Rosa Parks, but was completely ignored). Learning that he is staying in a Holiday Inn Express ("I feel smarter already"), the Freemans invite Dr. King to dinner and to sleep at their house. Later that night, Huey and King, while watching television, express their disgust with the state of black popular culture.
The next day, Huey persuades King to try to reach out to the public again. While eating at a McWuncler's, a parody of McDonald's (where King guiltily admits to having an affinity for the McRib), Huey convinces him that the two of them should start a political party, although King is insistent that Huey should get Oprah Winfrey to do so instead. King appears on a television show to explain the philosophy of his new party, but finds himself unable to expound due to frequent interruptions from the fast-talking, curt, bowtie-wearing right-wing host (voiced by Jim Meskimen). Right before a commercial break, Huey rushes the stage after throwing a chair at the host, beating him on camera. Afterwards, King and Huey settle on spreading their message the old-fashioned way: through flyers and door-to-door solicitation.
The goal of their party is further disrupted when King hires an "urban promotions firm" to advertise the party's planning meeting, which advertises it on an FM radio pop music station as a "party." As a result, dozens of young black people arrive at the church and begin behaving as though it were a club. A bouncer (voiced by DJ Pooh) prevents Huey and King's entrance, insisting that they must bribe him, which they do. Upon entering, they are stunned by the unrestrained behavior of the reveling crowd and are shocked to find that the podium has been taken over by a series of rappers, televangelists, and other superficial black pop culture icons. King, managing to get to the podium, tries to quiet the crowd by appealing to the audience's sense of brotherhood. He fails. Suddenly becoming fiercely impassioned, he proclaims, "WILL YOU IGNORANT NIGGAS PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP?!" The crowd is shocked.
King then goes on to ask: "Is this it? This is what I got all those ass-whoopings for?" He continues to refer to the audience repeatedly as "niggas" out of apparent frustration that the current generation of black people have willfully assumed the negative racial stereotypes associated with them. He goes on a tirade, attacking specific elements of black popular culture such as Black Entertainment Television, Michael Jackson, and Soul Plane. King concludes his speech by saying, "I've seen what's around the corner, I've seen what's over the horizon, and I promise you, you niggas have nothing to celebrate! And no, I won't get there with you. I'm going to Canada."
King thanks Huey, advising him to "do what he can." Media exposure of his speech causes black citizens to become angry with their situation, creating an uprising similar to those of the 1960s. The episode concludes with a mob of enraged, young black men and women screaming at the gates of the White House, cursing an unnamed presidential administration. Several news channels report that all black members of the NBA are sitting the season out until "troops are withdrawn", that drop-out rates among African-American youths have suddenly plummeted, and that Robert L. Johnson issued a public apology for founding BET. Finally, the front page of a newspaper from 2020 is shown, revealing that King has died in Vancouver at 91 and, furthermore, that Oprah Winfrey has been elected president.
Huey concludes the episode with these words: "It's fun to dream.", stating that this whole episode was Huey's interpretation as to what would happen if MLK Jr. have lived instead of being assassinated in '68.
CONTROVERSY: "Return of the King" was the most controversial episode of The Boondocks's first season. The episode received criticism from Al Sharpton for depicting Martin Luther King Jr. using the term "nigga". He demanded an apology from Aaron McGruder and Cartoon Network, stating "Cartoon Network must apologize and also commit to pulling episodes that desecrate black historic figures. We are totally offended by the continuous use of the n-word in McGruder's show."
Cartoon Network replied by releasing a statement saying, "We think Aaron McGruder came up with a thought-provoking way of not only showing Dr. King's bravery but also of reminding us of what he stood and fought for, and why even today, it is important for all of us to remember that and to continue to take action."[1] McGruder himself responded to Sharpton's criticism in The Boondocks comic strip, by having the characters ridicule Sharpton's choice to attack a cartoon over other, more relevant issues. The characters in the strip never specify the cartoon to which they're alluding.[2][3][4][5] The incident was also referenced on the show, in the episode "The Block is Hot." While Huey listens to an internet radio station, the broadcaster mentions that Al Sharpton is in the media again, this time complaining about a "cartoon", again, not specifying the cartoon to which the broadcaster is referring. This was likely a last minute addition, as that episode first aired less than two months following the incident
CULTURAL REFERENCES:
Dr. King's climactic speech at the end of the episode is from the lyrics of Asheru's song "Niggas".
The lyrics to Asheru's song "Niggas" hint at references and ideas from the Last Poets song "Niggas are Scared of Revolution."
A running gag from the Boondocks strip (in which Huey angrily attacks Usher and Justin Timberlake for copying Michael Jackson by screaming Jackson is a musician, not a genre of music) is featured in this episode.
Bill O'Reilly is shown attacking King for his comments. His portrayal in the show reflects the claims of his critics that he unfairly labels anyone whom he disagrees with as anti-American.
The song sung while Huey and Dr. King go door to door telling people about the revolution party, is called "Wishing" by Edo G. featuring Masta Ace.
Might not mean anything, just something I found interesting.
Comments
Dr. King's words bring tears to my eyes every time.
[center:1152cc5b](Martin Luther King, Jr.)[/center:1152cc5b]
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves, who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must ever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecutions and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. And this will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!" And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring -- from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring -- from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring -- from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring -- from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring -- from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that.
Let freedom ring -- from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring -- from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring -- from every hill and molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual,
"Free at last, free at last.
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."
"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."Thanks for this. If anyone wanted to see it, here it is: <!-- m -->http://my.spill.com/video/947994:Video:112688<!-- m -->