Beating Swords Into Plowshares

Beating Swords Into Plowshares

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Inaugural Address

Inaugural Address

By President Barack Hussein Obama

My fellow citizens: I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you've bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors.

I thank President Bush for his service to our nation -- (applause) -- as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often, the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we, the people, have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears and true to our founding documents.

So it has been; so it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost, jobs shed, businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly, our schools fail too many -- and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable, but no less profound, is a sapping of confidence across our land; a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this America: They will be met. (Applause.)

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord. On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas that for far too long have strangled our politics. We remain a young nation. But in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness. (Applause.)

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted, for those that prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life. For us, they toiled in sweatshops, and settled the West, endured the lash of the whip, and plowed the hard earth. For us, they fought and died in places like Concord and Gettysburg, Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions, greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week, or last month, or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America. (Applause.)

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of our economy calls for action, bold and swift. And we will act, not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We'll restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. All this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions, who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short, for they have forgotten what this country has already done, what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage. What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them, that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply.

The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works -- whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account, to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day, because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched. But this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control. The nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity, on the ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good. (Applause.)

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers -- (applause) -- our Founding Fathers, faced with perils that we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man -- a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience sake. (Applause.)

And so, to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born, know that America is a friend of each nation, and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity. And we are ready to lead once more. (Applause.)

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort, even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we'll work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet.

We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense. And for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken -- you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you. (Applause.)

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus, and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West, know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. (Applause.)

To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history, but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist. (Applause.)

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders, nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the role that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who at this very hour patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages.

We honor them not only because they are the guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service -- a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves.

And yet at this moment, a moment that will define a generation, it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all. For as much as government can do, and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history.

What is demanded, then, is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition on the part of every American that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept, but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship. This is the source of our confidence -- the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny. This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed, why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall; and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served in a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath. (Applause.)

So let us mark this day with remembrance of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At the moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words to be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."

America: In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

THAT WAS A NICE CHAT

Dear , I'm glad I caught you on the phone, that was a nice chat. I hope you are finding your work interesting. I have spitballed ideas with Merle jR. ABOUT INTERNET BUSINESS. hE TOLD ME HE BUILT A HI-DEF WEB SITE USING JAVASCRIPT (FOR FREE) iN His spare time, about the World Wrestling Federation, WWF wrestlers, hE MARRIED bARBARA YOUNG, SHE HAD 2 KIDS ALREADY AND THEY HAVE bREE-ANN TOGETHER. i FIRST SEEN HER DOWN HERE. sHE'S 10. SO MUCH LIKE YOU, 4' or SO A 1ST GRADER; YOU COULD TELL HER "oH, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY!", AND SHE WOULD SAY "i KNOW!" wE LIVED IN A TRAILER THEN, i HAD FLOOR MOUNTED HEAT REGISTERS;THE VENTS COME THROUGH THE FLOOR. bY ACCIDENT I learned that an empty Coke or some say Coca Cola 2 litre bottle was on one riught below where I sat at my bedroom door if I was on line, empty it would roll and float and the top and bottom would fighht WHEN THEY WERE OPEN FULL BLAST AND THE FURNACE BLOWER STARTED THAT IF YOU HAD AN EMPTY cOCA-cOLA 2 LITER BOOTLE SITTING RIGHT ON TOP OF IT; THE BOTTLE WOULD DANCE AROUND LIKE CRAZY, A DERVISH WHIRLING, VARIATION IN THE DRAFT; BUT IT WOULD NOT EVER GET BLOWN OFF THE REGISTER. nEEDLESS TO STAY I NEVER THREWW THE BOTTLE AWAY; I KEPT IT RIGHT THERE, THE a/c DID THE SAME ALL SUMMER LONG; bREE-aNN WAS TRULY FASCINATED BY THIS SIGHT, PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE ALWAYS LIVED IN A HOUSE WHERE POP BOTTLES GOT PICKED UP OFF THE FLOOR IMMEDIATELY, HELL SHE MAY HAVE NEVER SEEN AN EMPTY 2 LITER ON ANY FLOOR EVER. i WAS PLEASED-RELEIVED-SHE FOUND AMUSEMENT IN THE SIGHT, A CARNIVAL thing; THOUGH I LIVED WITH 2 ADULTS, DAD AND PEGGY WHO HAD COMPANY ON A REGULAR BASIS, i NEVER POINTED IT OUT TO ANYONE BECAUSE, i WASN'T SURE HOW PEOPLE DOWN HERE MIGHT REACT IF ONE SHOWED SUCH UNAMBIGUOUS APPROVAL AT SUCH A SIMPLE HOUSEHOLD MUNDANE SO wHAT? bUT SHE SAW IT RIGHT AWAY, THE FIRST 'OTHER HUMAN' TO SHARE MY IDIOTIC JOY THAT COOL THINGS DEVELOP IN THE HOME OF ANY FREE PERSON, EXCEPT THE ONES WHO HAVE PLASTIC COVERS TAILORED FOR THEIR LIVING ROOM SUITES (MORE COMMON IN THE 70'S). tHOSE PLACES 'OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES' WAS A CONSTANT PARADE GROWING UP IN sOUTHFIELD; gRANDMA AND gRANDPA NEVER LET ME HOST A HOUSE PARTY; i KNEW BETTER THAN ASK SUCH A FOOLISH QUESTION-CAN I INVITE SOME OF THE KIDS (HOUSEFUL) " SO WE CAN "GET hIGH"? "wHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" THE PERSONAL CHEF OF THE UNIFORMED POLICE SQUAD MIGHT ASK (DAD), MORE LIKELY- A DISMISSIVE GRUNT. THE PARENTS OF THE KIDS WHO ALLOWED "high" school parties IN THEir WEEKLY WINTER INSIDE KEGGERS WITH THE HAZE OF PLENTIFUL jAMACIAN WEED OR HASHish a cloud formation in finished basements, some walk-outs with in-grounD pools, with tile, not a PLASTIC LINER, PEOPLE WHO WERE TRULY CLASS CONSCIOUS: EXECUTIVES. pROFESSORS;DOCTORS,ACCOUNTANTS, LAWYERS, AND DENTISTS, in the 'of course' COOLEST POST WHITE-FLIGHT TRIBE IN ALL DETROIT; THE entire METRO AREA TRI-COUNTY; sOUTHFIELD hIGH sTUDENT body INCLUDED 2 BLACK KIDS IN 1978, MY FINAL YEAR AT SHS. 2 Brothers ,SONS OF rev. chARLES o. miles,tv pREACHER, Host of the "HOUR OF DeLIVERANCE" telecast OF TAPED Church service in . I watched it with Grandpa, we would both find amusement at how lively service was held, (Baptist Church one is SILENT ECOURSE UNTIL INSTRUCTED TO SING such and such number song ALOUD from NEVER MISPLACED hymnals; THE BUILT-IN HOLDERS ON THE BACK OF EVERY PEW PUT THEM BUT AN ARMS LENGTH FROM ANYONE IN THE HOUSE. sOME pEOPLE MIGHT SAY 'amen' IF THE PREACHER TURNED A CLEVER PHRASE, otherwise it's a rote lecture, which if one has any true talent atsmall-time celebrity is achieved, and your behavior outside of church will be constantly monitored by Christian Spies, when I lived down here 8th & 9th grade we had a PASTOR, Wade Trimmer, who gave up being a sought after EVANGELIST, WHO BOOKED ONE WEEK GIGS AT THE PLENTIFUL BAPTIST MEETING HALLS, for what is a bill AN ENGINEER'S SALARY TO PREACH, Isaw him first in randomfashion. He preached an event they advertise a a revival; a week of nightly services, with a 'SUPERSTAR PREACHER', and Wade Trimmer was that. Possessing a dynamic speaking voice, Wade trimmer was football big size man with coal-black hair,He officiated the funeral of Grandpa Tom's mother, Ma Coleman,the former Ella Mae Woods, daughter of a Methodist Church minister's; Born in Cullman AL; an immediate affinity With Rev. Trimmer was reached between them, their meeting was among the events in a chain reaction after his Leoma revival; he was bringing people into the church; without doubt his preaching was superior to any I have seen in person. Leoma Baptist Church issued a letter, an official proposal to be its Pastor (shepherd) ,he accepted. Robin, you are the namesake of Ma Coleman, a very respected lady, earned with flawless manners and hard work, Before 1948, cotton had to be picked by hand;Southern Lawrence County was an ocean of WHITE ALL AUGUST SEPTEMBER OCTOBER she outpicked most men. Her knowledge of the Bible was ency only a persistent, lifelong and serious disciple may attain. A great cook, homemade biscuits went on at 4 A.M. for Pa and which ones of their 12 offspring were home, automatic, reach a hand inside the flour sack, the lard can, obtaining amounts the hands remember, the body memory of the trained athlete, but a fun grandmother because she loved to see little faces smile and praised your actions so right on, say you colored a picture in a coloring book, or just followed her around all day because of a sigular magnetism; she was bigger than Pa Coleman, who was 5'9" and always very thin, like Merle Sr. & Jr.Thin as a rail moving with purpose or at rest, who took grandson Robert III (b. circa 1947) on a walk through the Bailey Holler; the tribal home among the many Bailey's; 'Chip', his handle similar to my JoeBear, which you can never shake one it sticks and people decide they like the sound of it, makes them grin. Forget ever being called Joseph among kinfolk, if I started now introducing myself as Joseph to every new acquaitance until I croak. That's my 'paperwork' name, which I now sign as Joseph Hughes Coleman, because it is a alright sounding trusty type 3 word name, recent Hollywood trend fondness, 1 of a kind. 'other kids'PARENTS WERE mARTIANS in MY EYES especially when they were present somewhere in the house with BECAUSE THEY WERE BEING COOL (permitting IT TO KEEP THE PACK OFF THE ROAD cuz they knew we got high when we went out, SNEAKING IN LATE WAS eventually DETECTED NO MATTER HOW QUIET QUIET AND IN THE DARK YOU COULD DO EVERYTHING; sometimes THEY WERE UP TO PEE-OR WORSE UP LATE SHOTGUNNING THEIR OWN 12 PACK; THEN THEY WERE APT TO BE SURLY, "look at the big man coming in from a night on THE TOWN!" LATER i WILL NOT FORGET GOING TO Eastern Michigan University, EMU,in Ypsi, making my first appearance on a college campus at 15 years of age; FREE BEER AND SMOKE; the weed was there waiting. GENUINE ACOPULCO GOLD-another first; in the dorm room of Bernie Moore's brother Mike, a grad student and his wife an RN; Little Merle's 2 older half sisters, my cousins Tina and Lisa (Tina's July, 1960 birth was just ahead of my arrival September, 1960 ) Lisa in September 1962 was the baby of our little extended family; the restaurant partners, brothers Tom and Merle Coleman, Tom's wife Faye and Merle's ex-wife Betty; we spent many days of childhood together, They lived just around the corner on the next block in Hazel Park a (Lisa's middle name IS GAY;)(;and rhymes with sister-!-Tina Kay). Unfamiliar THC potency is confronted; the buzz is another dimension of high altogether, Suppressed fears are revealed. Doom is my train of thought and giant paranoia emerges from its cacoon, completion of its metamorphosis dOne, the cannibinols flooding my brain possessed the awaited chemical message. The brain is teeming with alarm. I obtain a jolting observation of myself. The sense one's mind is disordered dawns. A forboding registers, my emotional seismograph blows its lid, redlined.The parade of unfriendly images marching quick time, random files of unhappy memory open; past pain throbs anew, complete with genuine dispair. My discomfort had no relevence to my thought life as I walked in; now cramped, the living quarters were a mousehole a feral cat peering in waiting. Though the memory of my childhood trauma was not yet ripe; it was a powerful mental block. Introversion descends on me, my class clown days cease. The hidden mental coils and springs are altered, the instrument of consciousness itself stirs in uneasy dread, a shifting beast. My hand of dogeared cards have no answer; gingerly dealt, a raggedy prison commissary deck is recognized, each card worn as pliable as chamois from years of daily sorting by countless dirty fingers and sweaty palms, each available play is a bad gamble, all options appear dicey. The incident is hidden, I see the backs, a faded red diamond pattern, and my losing hand; desiring my wasted ante back; a most uncomfortable, pointless urge. I fold and wait. Finally they reshuffled and dealt...and cold hands of betrayal that so pierced my heart--awareness of it can't be chanced. Age 27 would arrive when the facts unfolded. The pain settled like the muck of gutters. I would carry it. I was a running who feels the certainty of ball possession, after a faultless handoff is executed , The inner verbalizing is reduced to RUN,I got the ball I'm going to use every trick I can to move forward and hold on to the ball, and treat big parts of my identidy as an object I must only feel pressure in the crook of my arm I got the ball, my eyes percieving the programme of my life as a series of obstacles, I must accept the certain collision or take it to the house, take the hits, let my legs work by themselves, sheer reflex causing every juke, fake, and cut they have in them; while the focus is the ball in my arm, a physical pain, held so tight. The clock wouldn't allow to see the ball, its oval and laces the analog to the workings of my hand. Many years of therapy were ahead, conversatiion elicited in talk therapy,'The Joseph Hughes Coleman Talk Show', live and unedited, my hurt was indicated by unconscious gestures, deep embarrassment,laughter, exchanges of information, a to and fro data exchange like a tennis game , crafted turns of phrase,,a vocabulary exercise, a spoken run-on sentence,who-what-when-where and how; list of causes whose effects and whys must be inferred. The old Wound might tell a story we can trace back; A scrutiny of the the nerveless pale scar formed in total darkness under copious covers and bindings. The will to live, survival instinct, applies during states of shock, the ego's senseless buffer zone I entered when annihilation looked for keeps.