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've 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've 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. And 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. And 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 forever 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 the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." 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."¹

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. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution 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 there 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."2

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I 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 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!

Nice words, for a nigger.

Funny how in 1964 the American Colonization Society/Natl Colonization Society finally and formally Dissolved itself---Into the TRUST for Rustin's NAACP UAW Liberian Christian Repubic of Nigeria funded by USA and Sister States. Its Constitution specifies that only dispresed African Children of color may have Citizenship In Iron Lady's(Sirleaf) Liberia.

Promised lands for seperatists, Racists in Africa ?

African Americans different than their Liberian Fathers? Rhodesian(Kenya)? Zimbawean Fathers? South Africans all killing off white africans under Veil of Chrisitan and Cone Bank for DTC(holder of DOW dailies) Theology for Rainbow Coalitions and BNY-Mellon Bank holding company and settlement

Oh Oh Oh Bernadine err hell n bach!

<link>

He was the greatest orator of the 20th Century.

Jack

Sick.

After reading such words from a man who laid down his life for the freedom of others, all you have is a sick racist joke.

MLK had more manhood and decency in his fingernails than someone who could post a joke like yours could possibly have in his entire soul.

At long last after all the murders after all the hate after everything else that good man fought and died for, you can post that. How could you?

I used to have respect for you as a poster and a human being. This post has erased every good thing you have ever posted or said on this website. To denigrate a good man in the matter you just did makes an honorable person want to vomit.

Where? Why? How? what are you thinking or trying to do?

Sorry, buddy I ain't amused.

You couldn't measure to one of his turds.

Though maybe you're right. I should've downrated this post for being a cut-n-paste.

I got some great Winston Churchill jokes, if you're not too much of a pansy.

pansy Huh?

You chickenshit little punk. You aint got a clue about anything.

You seem to have some anger issues, Nick. You may be wrapped a little too tight for the BOTF. I'd recommend a time out.

Jack

+1 for the Foxwood twin towers snooks timing outs-

+ 1 one for drawing from cicero's Deep well wit pockets

<link>

The man who first spelled out the ground rules for great speeches was himself blessed with the sharpest tongue in Rome. Cicero used it to attain high office, win court cases and secure changes to the policy of the Roman republic.It could not, however, protect him from the broader sweep of history. As the republic began to give way to the empire, Cicero was decapitated. Fulvia, the wife of Mark Antony, is said to have pulled out the famously fluent tongue from his severed head and jabbed it with her hairpin.

Great oratory can send a shiver down the spine, but a speech will only be truly great when it chimes with the times in which it is delivered. That is what unifies the Guardian's Great Speeches of the 20th Century - it is what enabled them to change the world.

Indeed, the two female contributors that we do have from the century's early years - Emmeline Pankhurst in her 1913 American lecture on the war being waged by the suffragettes, and Virginia Woolf, speaking at the Cambridge lectures that were to become A Room of One's Own - both shed valuable light on how female voices were drowned out.

If historical circumstance is the most important factor in any great speech, the choice of the right words for the occasion is another essential part of the mix.

It was the former governor of New York Mario Cuomo who said: "You campaign in poetry, but you must govern in prose".

In a parliamentary setting an effective speech deploys forensic rigour enlivened with wit. But a great performance at a political rally is very different - more than anything, it requires emotive language to provoke the right mix of inspiration and indignation.

But even where great speeches have very different form and purpose, there are some rhetorical ingredients - like good cooking oil in the kitchen - that come in useful with all sorts of dishes. There are tricks of the trade, many known to orators since Cicero's time, that crop up time and again.

One of the most basic is the "rule of three". No one quite knows why, but speakers have always found that by clumping things together in threes they can hammer home their message.

De Gaulle put the rule to particularly good use. Instead of calling on men who have served in "any of France's armed forces" he issued his summons in sequence to men of the army, navy and air forces ("de terre, de mer et de l'air"). The rhythm reinforces the entreaty for everyone to do their bit.

After a decade of New Labour, many are disdainful of soundbites, but turning a phrase that encapsulates a message has always been an essential part of crafting a great speech, and it remains so.

Even the best soundbites rely on very old tricks. One is phrase reversal - John F Kennedy's "ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country". Another is taking an established cliche and adapting it. Margaret Thatcher, for example, wheeled out the then well-worn phrase about Labour's "winter of discontent" but then held out promise in its place of "an autumn of understanding" and "a winter of common sense".

One of the oldest oratorical controversies was whether, however artful the craftsmanship, a great speech must in the end be animated by the veracity of its argument. Even before Cicero, Plato insisted against the Sophists that it must be - 2,500 years later the dispute remains a live one.

We ran into it in considering Enoch Powell's anti-immigration "rivers of blood" speech, made in 1968 as Kenyan Asians arrived in the UK. Powell was a classical scholar, steeped in the rhetoric of the ancient world, and he drew on it heavily - even, in line with the best Roman practice, enhancing the urgency of his tone by holding in his urine in advance of delivering a big speech.

His speeches were said to "smell of the wick" - he sat late into the night, weaving in allusions to and oratorical tricks from the ancient world. Much of that is in "rivers of blood", and no doubt it helped create the immediate impact, seen as racist protesters came out on to the street in support of a man who they felt had finally articulated their fears.

Looking back at the text today, well-crafted as the words are, they look pernicious above all else. More than that, the predictions they make have proved unambiguously false - immigration happened, and blood was not spilt in the way Powell predicted. In the end, although remarkable, Powell's notorious speech falls short of being great.

As the 20th century wore on, what audiences expected changed, and great speech-makers had to adapt. Public meetings ceased to be the draw that they once were, and - in an increasingly distracting world - attention spans declined. No modern political leader would write a speech running to tens of thousands of words, as Pankhurst and Khrushchev did, when it would mean expecting audiences to sit still and listen for hours at a time. We had to edit down several speeches, and especially those from the century's early years.

Another huge change was technological. A momentous speech would traditionally reach most people as newsprint; but as first radio and then TV became all-important that changed. Delivery came to matter to those beyond the immediate audience, and truly great delivery - like that of Martin Luther King, who harnessed his voice as a virtuoso would a Stradivarius - developed an enhanced capacity to propel speeches into greatness.

So some of the criteria of greatness have evolved. But looking across a series that stretches from 1913 to 1997, what is equally striking is one constant: namely, the extraordinary and enduring power of the spoken word.

If you can write like this, then why do you do the stupid shit?

Jack