#downtrodden
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this generation's Biggest Owl.
#owl#Biggest Owl#she's lovely if you can figure out how to communicate with her before she decides you are dinner#or before your eardrums explode#honestly it's best to just steer clear unless you're another owl#downtrodden#rabbits of downtrodden
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Tumblr Story Time - The Robots and The Downtrodden: story by @artificial-lifeform-imitation based on prompt by @writing-prompt-s
#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writers on tumblr#voice acting#original story#writeblr#robots#robot uprising#science fiction#Uprising#Down with the elites#downtrodden#tumblr story time#Totally should be asleep rn as I have a interview tomorrow lol
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I have seen her . . . come away from your reproaches with the tears in her eyes, and her hands meekly clasped upon her bosom, as though life was heavy to bear.
Ellen Wood, from East Lynne
#abuse#browbeaten#emotional abuse#downtrodden#worn down#sensitive#burden#the struggle is real#broken spirit#sad#description#unbearable#quotes#lit#words#excerpts#quote#literature#classics#ellen wood#east lynne
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"The Power of My Love"
How long shall the multitudes swear by things made, and place their trust in the works of man?! For the desolate know not the things of God, nor is darkness able to understand; yea, the wicked gnash upon their teeth, the whole body convulses in the wake of mourning, for there is no rest.
Yet My hand caresses the cheeks of the hopeless,
As we watch the dawning of the day together…
For the strength of My arm uplifts the downtrodden,
My strong embrace heals the sorrowful,
Every beat of My heart revives the dead,
And the sound of My voice frees every captive…
Behold, the power of My love hides them away!…
Says The Lord.
📖 Source: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/Words_To_Live_By:_Part_Two
▶ Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmbMCsSpUcY&list=PLE8FlkxQPQkPHgZ2CISXAJx3vpxyJ9MCr&index=23
#thevolumesoftruth#prophecy#yahushua#jesus#god#truth#wordofgod#yahuwah#themessiah#wordstoliveby#psalms#proverbs#wisdom#loveofgod#desolate#wicked#hopeless#downtrodden#healing
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"Dark counsel is increased! Concealed truth devastates the ignorant, while men in authority step upon the fingers of the innocent! How long shall dark counsel prevail?! Shall veiled intentions come upon My people, to do great harm in an instant?! Shall the nations lie down in death, for lack of remorse?! For I see no sincere repentance, nor has one truly turned about.
How long shall the multitudes swear by things made, and place their trust in the works of man?! For the desolate know not the things of God, nor is darkness able to understand; yea, the wicked gnash upon their teeth, the whole body convulses in the wake of mourning, for there is no rest.
Yet My hand caresses the cheeks of the hopeless,
As we watch the dawning of the day together…
For the strength of My arm uplifts the downtrodden,
My strong embrace heals the sorrowful,
Every beat of My heart revives the dead,
And the sound of My voice frees every captive…
Behold, the power of My love hides them away!…
Says The Lord."
Excerpt from: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/Blessed_Hope
*Video/Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwqXllU0bM8&list=PLE8FlkxQPQkPq8VQsKdAQxdkiIuP0i4Fb&index=23
#TheVolumesofTruth#Prophecy#YAHUWAH#YahuShua#Jesus#WordofGod#TheWordofTheLord#TrueProphet#God#BlessedHope#repentance#hope#GatheringUp#rapture#healing#salvation#TheMessiah#TheDayofTheLord#downtrodden
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Our King came in rags. He became poor so that we might become rich. This Christmas, he offers you the greatest gift of all—HIMSELF. ~ Chrys Jones
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It was 46 years ago this spring – in March 1976 – that Tom McGrath’s debut play Laurel and Hardy first appeared on stage at the Traverse Theatre, in Edinburgh’s Grassmarket. Kenny Ireland, later artistic director of the Lyceum Theatre, played Oliver Hardy, and fellow Scottish actor John Shedden played Stan Laurel; and the show was such an immediate success that it transferred to what is now the Bedlam Theatre in Forrest Road for that year’s Edinburgh Fringe, playing to packed houses alongside plays by Donald Campbell and Billy Connolly, as part of incoming Traverse director Chris Parr’s policy of focussing on a new generation of Scottish writers.
Since then, McGrath’s play has won an extraordinary place in the international theatre repertoire, with dozens of revivals in theatres from Berkshire to Milwaukee. It’s also much loved by the global army of Stan and Ollie fans; and its continuing success, so many decades on, must have something to do with the show’s extraordinary quality of timelessness, which actors Steven McNicoll and Barnaby Power – with director Tony Cownie – hope to be able to conjure up more vividly than ever, when they return to the play at the Lyceum Theatre next week, 17 years after their hugely successful 2005 production on the same stage.
“I remember when I was a kid in the 1970s, watching the Stan and Ollie films on television, I absolutely loved them,” says McNicoll, who plays Ollie, “and I think what fascinated me most was the world they created, the way they drew you into this timeless place where all these daft things could happen. One of the many things this play does is to recreate some of Laurel and Hardy’s most famous routines in meticulous detail, and that’s a fascinating task; we spent hours watching box-sets of their films back in 2005, and beginning to understand how every single second counts in creating that comic effect.
“There’s just no room for error or for any lapse of concentration; and yet at the same time, reimagining those routines for the stage, you do have to tackle them slightly differently to make them work for a live audience, with no cut-aways or changes of shot. Technically, it’s very demanding; but it’s also so satisfying, when you begin to get it right, and to feel close to what Stan and Ollie achieved, in their comedy.”
Set in a kind of post-death theatrical limbo, where Stan and Ollie are able to look back on their lives, the play both evokes in extraordinary detail the timeless world of comedy that Laurel and Hardy created at the peak of their powers in the early 1930s – the two little men forever frustrated by the practicalities of life, helpless in the face of everything from angry women to recalcitrant buckets – and faces up squarely to the perennial theme of mortality itself, and of what happens to great comedians when they begin to grow old.
“This is a play that really does so much, in just two hours,” says Barnaby Power. “It recreates Stan and Ollie’s famous routines, it packs in huge amounts of information about their lives – their early careers, their marriages, their struggles with the film industry – and yet it also has this very powerful and poetic strand of reflection, which is not exactly nostalgic, but deeply moving.
“If there is any difference in coming back to it 17 years on, I think for me it’s about empathising even more with the way the industry eventually wore them down, as artists, and the way they constantly had to repackage themselves to fit changing commercial models. They became famous for their brilliant two-reel short films, for example; but by the 1940s, two-reelers barely existed any more.”
“Yes, it’s interesting that in 2005, we were around the mid-30s age Stan and Ollie were they first began to work together,” adds Steve McNicoll, “whereas now, we’re around the age they were when they fell out with their producer Hal Roach, and their film career began to decline. I think I’ve always been fascinated by that question of what happens to old clowns, when they can no longer quite deliver that unchanging comic world their audiences expect of them; and this play deals with that in a very moving way. And it’s even more poignant for comedians who work in partnership, like Stan and Ollie or Morecambe and Wise; because when one goes, the whole world they’ve created goes, and the one left behind can seem like a ghost.”
All of which points to the play’s final and perhaps deepest theme, which has to do with friendship, and even love; the bond between the two characters Laurel and Hardy created, the real-life friendship between the two men, and the love and affection they inspired in their millions of fans, both in the 1930s, and today. Tom McGrath himself died in 2009; but in 2005, when this team first tackled the play, he was around, and delighted by the success of the production.
“When I first met Tom to talk about the play,” says director Tony Cownie, “what struck me most was his deep sense of affection for these downtrodden, hopeless, but nevertheless contented pals, who made their way through the Depression and into all but the most hardened of hearts.
“He wanted to tell the real story of Laurel and Hardy; but mostly, he wanted to see them live again. This was, he said, the main driving force. And now, I suppose in many ways we have all come through a great depression, during the Covid pandemic; so what better medicine could there possibly be, than a new production of the best play about the best comedy duo in history?”
Laurel and Hardy is at the Lyceum, Edinburgh, from 3–25 June. Previews take place from 3-6 June, including a pay what you can preview on Monday 6 June: https://lyceum.org.uk/whats-on/production/laurel-and-hardy
#Barnaby Power#Steven McNicoll#Tom McGrath#Laurel and Hardy#2022#2020s#other#I wouldn't call Stan and Ollie the characters#little#downtrodden#hopeless#nevertheless contented#I wouldn't be a fan if I saw them as such#nor would I laugh at them#but whatever#to each their own#haven't read the play though#sounds a tad mawkish and sentimental#Stan and Babe had a great fucking ride#why do people want to wallow in pity?#as if ordinary shit happening in life#was suddenly terrible#anyhow#not quite sure if they changed too much#or didn't change enough#according to these people#I did listen to a version of the play#more about that later
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Downtrodden... #Poetry #TheSundayWhirl #Wordle 650
Downtrodden
My memory is hit-and-miss
It flies in and out like many
broken twigs on the forest floor
As I sit beneath a willow tree
I wonder where the divine is,
in the pattern of my life
I think He gave me the leftovers
and then washed His hands
I feel the blood of my ancestors
flow through my veins
They have no voice to guide me
I have no crystal clear thoughts
As to where my life…
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I’m a teacher, a priestess, and a spiritual guide,
But under my armour I’m dying inside.
My cup has been empty,
For many’s the year,
My inner child weeps silently,
Sobs drowning in a cesspool of fear.
There’s a gaping spiritual wound,
in the Center of my being,
Like I’m missing an integral part,
That when found will be instantly freeing.
The agonizing emptyness that has overtaken my heart,
Is an acid bath on an atomic level,
And it’s ripping me apart.
Cosmic nothingness drowns me,
And greedily swallows me whole,
I stand screaming into the cosmos,
Begging tirelessly for my soul.
Bottoms up bourbon bottles,
Long necks strangled at my hand,
I have no coin to pay the boatman,
So there will be no promise land.
I call down the great mother,
And wait on the crossroad’s stone,
But there is only a void of silence,
So I decay down to my bones.
My weary joints have held the weight of the world,
So long I’ve walked this road alone,
I was sent off without a map into darkness,
Is my destination my doom, or is it my home?
The queen cries celestial diamonds,
They rain down like artic hail,
I don’t know what my mission was in this life ,
But whatever it was I have failed.
“I am nobody, who are you? Are you, nobody too?”
I am a forlorn ghost of a gone girl,
A sacrificial lamb to be sent out to slaughter,
I failed to be loved or become a mother,
And was born a deeply unwanted daughter.
Mother mother, mommy dearest,
Do you see me? Can you hear?
You were right, I am disgusting and worthless,
And soon I shall fall upon my spear.
#poem#love#anger#poetry#emo#sad girl#sadness#sad thoughts#sad poetry#sad quotes#i'm sad#sad but true#crying#imcrying#i hate this#I hate it here#kill me now#unwanted#downtrodden#anguish
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Pillyki redesigns~
i have granted them extra pinch abilities.
top pic is some common island breeds with their Piips (larvae). got a standard Lush, a Coral, a Berry, and a Mossy. bottom pic is life cycle from egg to cocoon.
fun facts:
when frightened a Piip's feathery fluff shifts into patches of black that make it resemble two large unblinking eyes when seen sideways.
they can shoot paralyzing venom from the sacks near their eyes. this venom is sometimes harvested for medical reasons but it must be watered down to be used safely.
wild Pillies spin their cocoons in pits lined with ashes from dead hawks. the glow of the cocoons make it look like a many eyed creature is staring out from the pit.
most Pillies resemble what we would consider roosters and it's very difficult to determine what sex a Pilly is. even if you think you're sure, your "buck" pilly might start laying eggs out of the blue one day. sequential hermaphrodites? mistaken identity? who knows.
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The passage describes the despair of an elderly man walking in the rain between 1949 and 1951. This results in a nonsensical, ramshackle, role model-friendly drowsiness that reflects the man's state of mind and feelings. These feelings may later become pensive for a generation of writers who contemplate the nihilistic world. The man walks and feels similar to a modern or even futuristic man. He preserves his image throughout his life, including thoughts, discoveries, and unique consciousness.
Many original conscious writers also preserve their own images, with their discoveries, darks, and dawns. When faced with a unique entity, they satisfy themselves with a bottle of hundred-year-old wine or a compressed segment of opium. Years ahead of this rare happening, people who preserve their darkness levels to improve and grow are rare and valuable. This idea helps maintain self-image and avoids rapid changes based on societal changes, such as current technological trends that turn people into mechanical superficial beings without a chance to cherish despair or get drowned in champagne.
These ideas propose forms and the enjoyment of moments of despair to create an original label for what one possesses. Most people lose their emerald because the modern world turns them into machines. It's not always about censorship; it's about blending. When blending becomes pop culture, originality gradually fades away. Drinking mature drops of cave-old wine makes storytelling interesting. Masterclasses focus on a copy culture, creating an image discovered in the mind based on instinctive winds. Once found, it's time to hold it tight, extend the feelings and stories beyond it, and make it memorable.
Self-care is crucial, preserving the innermost feelings that were once a signature and may be forgotten but will be reincarnated when rediscovered. Throughout my adolescent life, I enjoyed preserving this unique opioid image of literature and love. I immersed myself in it, tearing many papers, feeling many wrinkles, and investing a lot of effort to make it as mature, poetic, sexual, critical, and romantic as possible. This feeling comes from a deep poetic speech of a one-night love, never experienced or told.
It's as peculiar, drowsy, and peaceful as it could be. This feeling is powerful and old, possibly originating from the deep poetic speech of a one-night love. That idealist individual who found curiosity between lines and tears could make it poetic. However, those wrinkly outcries and shouts created a deep hole through my soul. I recall how it seemed like a never-getting-old trick to turn the feeling and image into a verbose text. It may not propose a form awarded by academies, but it fixes most of life's stories, reopens hearts, brings hearts closer, and offers genuine generosity.
Being an idealist and an image preserver, even during dark phases, are two different things. In my neighborhood, I swore to my loneliness that there were people so close to me who admired me but had no chance to discover these feelings. It was familiar to them what I wanted to propose, and it was too familiar for them to get connected. However, loneliness is a cave out of people, and if people happen, it turns to memory. If it turns to memory, it becomes a passing phase and fades away. It becomes part of growth, which they call adaptability to the world outside the wall. Outside the opiums of words, forms, and poetic enjoyments of once-original feelings, now devoted to mechanical machines and crazy mindsets.
#loneliness #writers #downtrodden #delirium
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downtrodden
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Discover a Unique Paladin Subclass for D&D 5e - The Downtrodden Paladin!
Paladins are known for their unwavering honesty and kindness, but some venture into the mysterious underworld. Explore the intriguing Downtrodden Paladin, a homebrew subclass that grants paladins access to the secrets of the underworld in Dungeons and Dragons 5e. Click the link to learn more about this fascinating subclass!
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#law-stationer#OLIT#Getraer#chief#billy-goat#nonmediation#C.B.#downtrodden#ascher#chylific#shamer#dreamworks#trifoliosis#robyn#naturopathist#Ionesco#maculas#outstared#carburetion#avenging
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I know they are jokes but I still utterly disagree with the people in the Dickens December tag going "Scrooge has a point/Scrooge is a mood" etc.
Because the problem with Ebenezer Scrooge is not that he dislikes Christmas and hates people forcing it on him, or that he refuses to give money to an unknown charity banging at his door.
The problem with Ebenezer Scrooge is that he is everything wrong with capitalism.
Scrooge doesn't refuse to participate in charity because he thinks it's a sketchy business and social problems should be addressed systematically at a higher level: he simply thinks any charity is a waste of money because to him, the problems are already taken care of. Poor people should be in prison or put to work, sick people should be in prison or in hospitals or even better, should be dead, and at the end of the day it's not his problem because he worked his whole life and he is perfectly fine and people die every day, so who cares.
And Scrooge doesn't shut down Christmas because Christmas is an over saturated, inescapable commercialised hell that he doesn't believe in. He hates Christmas because he dislikes anything even vaguely joyous, because joy doesn't bring money, or even worse, it requires money to be spent.
The only thing that counts to Scrooge when the reader meets him is to make money, and that drive shuts down any compassion in his heart. The more money he makes, the more miserable he becomes, and the more miserable he is, the more money he wants. Christmas is just a symbol of how utterly devoid of... Well, anything, Scrooge is.
Love is ridiculous, anything that makes anyone happy is useless because it distracts them from earning more money, and if you are poor it's your fault for not working hard enough.
And that's why the contrast with his nephew and employee in these first 3 entries work so well: because here's a man who married for love, and is as warm and ruddy as a candle in winter, and here's a man who would stop to play with the children in the street on his way home, just for the joy of it.
And then there's Scrooge.
#dickens december#a christmas carol#mind you i am NOT saying dickens was socialist or even anti capitalism#not explicitly at the very least#but he SPECIFICALLY wrote about those downtrodden and forgotten by society#his is more a call to compassion than to structural societal aid#but the themes are THERE#and in scrooge's specific case his lack of compassion is specifically from capitalistic greed
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