'The Late Bard's Lyre Was Buried With Him. Sometimes We Hear Faint Sounds Of Music Rising From The Grave

Our islands are not a playground for your little "intrepid soul search". Pull up or fuck off

My favorite version so far.Beautiful music,obviosly, but also beautifully acted and staged.The “messenger”part actually made me cry in class ,something I haven’t done since I was 14.

Monteverdi’s l'Orfeo, conducted by Jordi Savall, performed by Le Concert des Nations, La Capella Reial de Catalunya, and soloists.

I am so fond of this version, from the elegant set to the instrumentalists (crisp and full of vigour) to the warm and frankly imperfect singing. But what really makes it is Mr Savall’s entrance. The drums and brass start playing, and there he goes, striding down to the pit in his billowing robes. Jordi, you magnificent bastard!

Disclaimer:

I don't usually use this blog.Most of the posts on here are either

A) accidentally reblogged here instead of my main

Or B) signal boosting

My main blog is @greencheekconure27

hey guys i seriously hate to make this post but i don’t know if i have a choice anymore

i’m a full time trans neurodivergent college student and my life is spiraling out of control (parents going thru a messy divorce, dad might disown me and i cannot survive without his financial help and mom can’t afford to help me, etc)

basically i’m more suicidal and dysphoric than i’ve ever been in my life and i only get 8hrs/week at my job. i live in alabama and i just found out the only doctor that does hrt here is violently intrusive and homophobic so i have to go to nashville (4 hour drive)

i can’t afford gas to get there and i can’t afford hrt, but i can’t live without it anymore. plus i’ve discovered i might have some other health problems and my upcoming rent will be 600/mo

i need anything i can get at this point. thank you so much

cash app: $catws

venmo: washingtonmoore

paypal (has my dead name)

Yashô (Japanese, 1782-1825), Bat in Flight, Ink on paper.

Anne with an E’s cancellation is damaging to Indigenous viewers

These reactions from Non-Native fans are proof of the effectiveness of the writing and acting, in teaching through storytelling. But here is the thing: Indigenous fans are watching, too. And in the age of politicians throwing around the words Truth and Reconciliation while continuing to walk the same paths their colonial forefathers did, we do not need another story about Indigenous pain and suffering. We need a story about Indigenous resilience and convalescence.

Hi everyone, even if you have never seen the show Anne with an E, I would really appreciate anyone willing to take a few minutes to read why this is not just a matter of cancelling a beloved period drama, but a matter of white corporations making a profit off of Indigenous suffering, without giving Indigenous healing in a betrayal of responsibility.

#SaveAnnWithAnE #RenewAnneWithAnE

(Sincere apologies for the double-post, but as everyone knows, link post types don’t always show up in Tumblr tag searches, so this version is for that.)

Tankie as a word has lost pretty much all of its meaning. And, it is only a matter of time before anyone who thinks Nazis should be punched is labeled a "tankie".

“Years and years ago, there was a production of The Tempest, out of doors, at an Oxford college on a lawn, which was the stage, and the lawn went back towards the lake in the grounds of the college, and the play began in natural light. But as it developed, and as it became time for Ariel to say his farewell to the world of The Tempest, the evening had started to close in and there was some artificial lighting coming on. And as Ariel uttered his last speech, he turned and he ran across the grass, and he got to the edge of the lake and he just kept running across the top of the water — the producer having thoughtfully provided a kind of walkway an inch beneath the water. And you could see and you could hear the plish, plash as he ran away from you across the top of the lake, until the gloom enveloped him and he disappeared from your view. And as he did so, from the further shore, a firework rocket was ignited, and it went whoosh into the air, and high up there it burst into lots of sparks, and all the sparks went out, and he had gone. When you look up the stage directions, it says, ‘Exit Ariel.’”

— Tom Stoppard, University of Pennsylvania, 1996 (via flameintobeing)