As the liberator of captives and defender of the poor, / physician of the sick, and champion of kings, O Victory-bearer Great Martyr George, / intercede with Christ God to save our souls.
Άρθρο μου στο @philenewscy: «Η Φάρμα των Ζώων στα 80: Η Διαχρονική Προειδοποίηση του Όργουελ για την Αλήθεια και την Εξουσία.»
👉 https://t.co/fN052zYYli
Ο #Orwell παραμένει πάντοτε επίκαιρος γιατί μας θυμίζει ότι η αλήθεια και η δημοκρατία δεν είναι ποτέ δεδομένες. Πρέπει να τις υπερασπιζόμαστε διαρκώς, μέσα μας και γύρω μας.
#Orwell #AnimalFarm #Αλήθεια #Δημοκρατία #Ελευθερία #Φιλελεύθερος #Άρθρο #Διαχρονικότητα #ELE #article
Sharing my article published y’day in the Sunday Mail (@cyprusmail) on #Orwell’s Animal Farm at 80. It’s a diachronic warning on truth & power in an age of disinformation, deepfakes & propaganda.
80 years on, Orwell still speaks to our time: when words are corrupted, history follows & soon, reality itself.
“Political language… makes lies sound truthful and murder respectable.”
https://t.co/GQCvrgs5NL
#AnimalFarm #Truth #Democracy #HumanRights #RuleOfLaw #Disinformation #CyprusMail #ELE #article #publication
Rest in peace, Patricia Routledge 🙏🏻
In memory of her, I encourage everyone to read these words of hers from February last year.
Whether young or old, you're bound to get something out of it.
*****
"I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.
My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.
At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.
At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.
At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.
At 80, I took up watercolour painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.
I’m writing this to tell you something simple:
Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.
Let these years ahead be your TREASURE YEARS.
You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.
You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.
With love and gentleness,
Patricia Routledge
*****
Once more, rest in peace. 🤍
@ErcanAltintas55@HellenicEchoes Makes no difference who ruled Cyprus. 3000 year Hellenic history and we still speak greek. That shows how strong our roots and dna are. You komsu are travellers from Asia.
@ErcanAltintas55@HellenicEchoes 100 dogs have pissed on our island the past 3000 years. And yet we spoke greek in ancient times and we still speak greek.