Speed Matters...yeah, I installed Google Chrome...

and I'm loving it. I'm working on a project at work where ''performance'' is the code word for ''speed'' and let's just say, right now, IT sucks - better but still sucks.

After reading an blog entry by John Patrick, former IBMer and, in my view, a pragmatic futurist, I decided to follow his lead and install Google Chrome, their new browser.

In a word, WOW. Now, I like and use extensions out the wazoo on Firefox2 (can't go to 3; company doesn't support yet). What I hadn't realized was how pokey it had become; whether because of my myriad of add-ons or something else. All of my favorite sites, including VitaList - which doesn't work on Firefox2 after recent upgrade w/o assist from IE Tab extion - work like a charm.

Google Chrome Rocks! Yeah, it's rough around the edges, but .... speed matters.

Key Applications driving Social Computing at IBM

Lotus Connections and Quickr Postcard

From: lbenitez,
23 hours ago

Lotus Connections and Quickr Postcard

View SlideShare presentation or Upload your own. (tags: card reference)

Lotus Connections and Quickr Quickr Reference Guide with URLs. Useful to use in PoC / Pilots to quickly distribute to users and give them a reminder as to what features are included in Lotus Connections and Quickr.

SlideShare Link

@alanlepo 'nets' it out succintly

Connected Collaboration

From: alanlepo,
1 day ago

Connected Collaboration

View SlideShare presentation or Upload your own. (tags: wiki socialsoftware)

This presentation is divided into the following sections:

- A brief history of collaboration and sharing

- An introduction into "2.0" and consumer tools reaching into the business world

- Attention. Collaboration. Discovery.

- A quick demo of Socialtext Dashboard, Workspaces, and People

- Best practices for successful implementation and adoption of social software

- Things to look for in choosing a vendor

SlideShare Link

It just gets better and better...what a touch of class!

Senator Barack Obama made time to call Mrs. Cooper to thank her for her vote. Nuff said....

The Old to the New....

I am honored to know Mrs. Cooper personally. At 106, she's seen more than most. Watch as she shares her perspective and experience while going to cast her ballot in the upcoming presidential election

The truth is out there....

...and it's usually somewhere in the middle; not left nor right. Turns out ''Joe the Plumber'' got his facts wrong and is somewhat less than forthright about his status as a plumber. See NY Times article here. Oh, but wait, it's the liberal media outlet reporting those 'facts' so let's just ignore it. Will this madness ever cease?

Inspiration and aspirational - We can...

move mountains! I just love the creativity that Barack's candidacy has inspired. Check this out

What is a 'Post Turtle'?

My erudite friend, Michael Kirschenbaum, keeps sending me things that a) crack me up while b) making a lot of sense. Enjoy.

Post Turtle

While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75-year old Texas rancher whose hand was caught in a gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Sarah Palin and her bid to be a heartbeat away from being President.

The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Palin is a post turtle."

Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a post turtle was.

The old rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a post turtle. You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, she doesn't know what to do while she is up there, and you just wonder what kind of dumb ass put her up there to begin with."

Is this sexist (or just damned funny)

Since the accusations of sexism began flying about during this political season, I've become acutely aware of how much of a ''man'' I am. In other words, I don't readily see subtle ''sexisms''

I fell asleep before this ran 'live' on Saturday night. Cracks me up. What about you?

I ''too'' am a little confused, but not worried...

A friend of mine sent this to me in email so I can't and won't take credit for it, but it sure does sum up the essence of the mis-direction and obfuscation being bandied about.  In the end, ''God don't like ugly'' and this ''dog won't hunt'' for long.


I'm a little confused. Let me see if I have this  straight.....
 
 
If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're 'exotic, different.'
  
Grow up in Alaska eating mooseburgers,  a quintessential American story. 


If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
  
Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
 
 
Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
  
Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
 
 
If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black  President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that  registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years  as a Constitutional Law professor,   spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000  people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services  committee, spend 4 years in the United  States Senate representing a state of  3 million people while sponsoring 131  bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and  Veteran's Affairs committees,  you don't have any real leadership  experience.
 
 
If your total resume is: local weather girl,  4  years on the city council and 6  years as the mayor of a town with less than  7,000 people, 20 months as the  governor of a state with only 650,000 people,  then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking  executive.
 
 
If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches,  you're not a real Christian.
 
 
If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
 
 
If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
 
 
If, while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.
 
 
If your wife is a Harvard graduate laywer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her  inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't
represent America's.
 
 
If you're husband is nicknamed 'First Dude', with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register  to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the  secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.
 
 
OK, much clearer now.

Just the facts, please ... finally a measured summary of Sarah Palin's background.

A good friend of mine forwarded this email to me. After scanning it, I checked Snopes .com t o see what, if anything, it could provide. Imagine my surprise when they confirmed that the alledged author did in fact acknowledge and avow writing it.

Another friend asked me the other day why my status said I was incredulous. I was incredulous after watching Mrs. Palin's mocking remarks (my opinion, thank-you) at the Republican convention. But, with this measured summary of her 'background', I can finally and more fully answer her by saying I'm tired of the ''politics of destruction'' and the polarizing effects it is having on our country. I'm tired of wondering if what is said by candidates is true or not. I'm tired of the constant 'spin' by all aspects of the media on all elements of everything. Please, ''just the facts'' ... and let me decide for myself.

Updated: Nice website (FactCheck.org) that actually does what I'm asking for here

If it's not the iPhone's fault, then it must be....

the Network! According to repeated tests performed by Appleinsider, the deficient performance experience on the existing (and only) 3G network that iPhone can use is not the phone's ''fault''. Recent reports that Blackberry Bold users are experiencing similarly bad performance would also seem to confirm that it's not a device issue. A ''swing and whiff'' by my favorite, customer-focused company....NOT!

Not everyone uses and iPhone for mobile browsing, you idiots...

Guess I'm 'stuck on stupid' with another iPhone post, but I'm peeved. Again, I'm quite content to wait until a legal, unlocked version of the iPhone is available before considering a purchase. (ATT ... NOT!!) That said, why are sites like USA Today and Google Reader configuring their sites to default as if only iPhone users will access? I get that there's a big influx of users, but damn, why diss the rest of us? Well, at least Google gives me a way to specify on the web which phone/browser I prefer. Guess everybody's ''smelling'' Apple these days.

ATT just doesn't get it.

One of my hesitations in buying a new iPhone is my fear of the abysmal service of the former Cingular, now ATT in-store reps (and by, extension, I'm presuming the whole support infrastructure team). Today I wandered in with my son and ran into several friends from his high school. We stood and chatted in the store for 15 minutes or so; I touched the new iPhone (eh, not much different) and then prepared to depart. I recalled I wanted to buy another car charger for my Nokia device. I picked one up and walked to the counter to pay. The young lady asked me if I'd had the chance to sign in? Incredulous, but really politely I asked ''you have to sign in to make a purchase?'' She said ''yes, so we can ensure orderly service.'' WTF!!! Ok, if I come and ''need'' service, i.e. have a question, want to ''feel up'' an iPhone, discuss pros and cons of service plans, etc... then, yes, I should queue up. But if I walk in and pick up an item off the shelf and I'm ready to pay, then take my money. Set up an express checkout line for accessory purchases or put a self-checkout kiosk in the store. Oh, I put the charger back on the wall and walked out. Later, I spent the same 29.99 on a ''combo'' wall / car charger at the T-Mobile store. I'm very content now to wait for someone besides ATT to sell the Apple device. Charge me more and serve me less....Not!

John McCain flip flops?

My best friend sent me this link juxtaposing John McCain's positions and statements. I'm looking for a similar video for Barack now. Tired of hyping gaffes one way or the other. This was likely 'news' while Barack (and we) were dealing with Jerimiah Wright and his nonsense.

Pardise Lost ... packing up to leave the ''Emerald Coast''

  Just spent 10+ days in my little piece of Heaven on earth - our home in Seaside, FL. While all of the usual fix up stuff around the house reigned, I did get to spend some quality time on the beach. In case you're wondering why it's called the Emerald Coast, note the beautiful color of the waters of the Gulf coast. Ahhhhhh....

Call a Spade a Spade...sigh

In spite of the unintended and unwanted political slant of most of my posts, I can't allow this post to stand alone. Whereas I thought differently earlier, Father Flegler appears to be yet another ''caught up'' hanger on or, more sinister to consider, part of the larger pattern of folks who've influenced many, including Barack. I don't worry that Barack shares these views or would ever voice his opinion in the manner that Father Flegler chose, but c'mon, where are these guys coming from....and don' t they realize they are a target for media pundits intent on finding every flaw / gaffe to associate with their candidate?

People matter ... I miss Gia already (no, she's not dead...sheesh)

One of my favorite people on the planet, Gia Lyons, formerly at IBM, is now at Jive. I'd love to know how much traffic her departure has generated ''in the cloud.'' Simply put, she is one of the smartest and most lucid communicators about the benefits of Social Software on the planet. Moreover, she practices what she preaches. I take a little comfort in knowing I can reach her whenever I want, but still....sniff.

We Are the Ones (who will make the 'Change')

Song inspired by Obama's quote ''We are the ones, we've been waiting for.''



In spite of efforts to denigrate Barack's ability to 'lift and inspire' with his words, witness and learn what 'inspiration' causes others to aspire to and to achieve.

Yes, We Can!

Just when I thought I couldn't laugh anymore...

Thank God for smart people who can string together the inconsistencies in an intelligent and funny way. Good will prevail; Evil will falter and fail. Believe.

Speak your truth, Father!

Part of the reason my parish 'moves' me so is due to my priest, Father John Adamski. He ''breaks open'' the gospels in a quiet, clear and eloquent manner Sunday after Sunday.


This priest, Father Mike Pflegler impresses me in this interview with his patience, clarity and eloquence in rebutting every leading comment / question from a reporter with an ''obvious'' bias / position. Obviously Father Mike has his own bias, but I'm struck by the reporter's unwillingness to 'accept' or acknowledge his own faulty premise(s) while attempting to deconstruct his subject's. Interesting, when I was in school for Mass Media Arts, I was taught that the foremost concern for a good reporter was ''objectivity''.

God bless Father John, God Bless Father Mike and God Bless all of the priests and laity who serve us all.

Ha! ''God don't like ugly'' - 3AM star supports Barack

Check this out - one of the folks pictured in the infamous ''3 AM'' add is an ardent Barack supporter.

Unabridged text (and now video) of ''my president'' Barack Obama's recent speech on race in America

OBAMA SPEECH IN FULL: A MORE PERFECT UNION
Tuesday, March 18th, 2008/ 10:17:53 ET
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union."

Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787.

The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more years, and to leave any final resolution to future generations.

Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution – a Constitution that had at is very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should
be perfected over time.

And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part – through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk - to narrow that gap between the promise of
our ideals and the reality of their time.

This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign – to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together – unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction – towards a better future for our children and our grandchildren.

This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But it also comes from my own American story.

I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth
while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners – an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on
Earth is my story even possible. It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts – that out of many, we are truly one.

Throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some
of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans.

This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough." We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well.

And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn.

On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike.

I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear
him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely – just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.

But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't simply a religious leader's effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country – a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.

As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems – two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.

Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way

But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God's work here on Earth – by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.

In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:

"People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend's voice up into the rafters….And in that single note – hope! – I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories – of survival, and freedom, and hope – became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame about…memories that all people might study and cherish – and with which we could start to rebuild."

That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety – the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the
struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.

And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions – the good and the bad – of the community that he has served diligently for so many years.

I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother – a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a
woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.

These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.

Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias.

But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America – to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality.

The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through – a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.

Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, "The past isn't dead and buried. In fact, it isn't even past." We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.

Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students.

Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire departments – meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities.

A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families – a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods – parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and building code enforcement – all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and
neglect that continue to haunt us.

This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late fifties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.

But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there were many who didn't make it – those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations – those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, and racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does find voice in the barbershop or around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to make up for a politician's own failings.

And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.

In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience – as far as they're concerned, no one's handed them anything, they've built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town;
when they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time.

Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism.

Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze – a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns – this too widens the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding.

This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. Contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naïve as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy – particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.

But I have asserted a firm conviction – a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people – that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice is we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.

For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances – for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs - to the larger aspirations of all Americans -- the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives – by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.

Ironically, this quintessentially American – and yes, conservative – notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.

The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country – a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old -- is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know -- what we have seen – is that America can change. That is true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope – the audacity to hope – for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds – by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper.

In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world's great religions demand – that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle – as we did in the OJ trial – or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think
that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.

We can do that.

But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn; that those kids who don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.

This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don't have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.

This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.

This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should've been authorized and never should've been waged, and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.

I would not be running for President if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation – the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election.

There is one story in particularly that I'd like to leave you with today – a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta.

There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.

And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.

She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.

She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too.

Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against injustice.

Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."

"I'm here because of Ashley." By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children.

But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins.

Passionate, lucid and spectacular in it's insight ... Keith Olberman speaks to Hillary.

Keith Olberman offers stark and direct advice to Senator Hillary Clinton in response to her ''handling'' of the recent and repeated remarks by Geraldine Ferraro. Listen and learn.

As an aside, I remember being confused seeing and hearing that Keith Olberman was going to be a news commentator. Particularly after enjoying his antics and dry wit on ESPN. No longer. This man is ''on point'' as my younger colleagues would say. Moreover, he's speaks the truth, plain and simple. I yearn for the day when all of politicos will adopt this approach with this much passion and eloquence.

Obama will win!

This excellent op-ed piece by William Jelani Cobb 'codifies' my feelings precisely. Read and learn.

Find something that 'moves you'...Music moves me!

Paul Potts, the eventual winner of Britain's Got Talent, shares his passion and unexpectedly moves the crowd with his clearly God-given talent. I believe this piece is Nessun Dorma, which, according to Wikipedia is ''one of the best known tenor arias in all opera.''

Paul's 'debut' as featured on You Tube
I cry every time I watch this...this man can sing, ya'll

Paul's announcement as the winner of the competition
Bully for you, sir!

His website where you can order his CD! I think I've become an opera fan.