#'why does everybody seem so real and i feel like a fraud? i wish that we were all equal in the eyes of god' just slipped into the silliness

[geddy-leesbian]

I lie awake at night thinking about Luis Serra singing this

Wish I was 21 again, let the good times roll My only worry back then was "does she have birth control?" I'm not a doctor, but I played one on TV (Paging Dr. Noah Drake) And I'd be happy to take a look for free If wishes were fishes, we wouldn't smell too good With a bunch of dead fish 'round the neighborhood I'm not the only one who wishes cause this is Hollywood, where all your freaky shit comes true And maybe a wish or two Wish every politician wasn't a self-serving dick Wish I hadn't googled Anthony Weiner's weiner Was our government hit with a stupid stick? I wish honest Abe Lincoln was still our president, but I'd settle for Jesus or Clark Kent If wishes were fishes, the whole world would eat But we'd all be sick of fish by the end of week I got a sneaking suspicion I'm not the only freak who's wishing for blind dumb luck and getting nothin' here- What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

[blackgirlblues]

Being A Black Girl: And Chasing Your Dreams.. Yikes.

Hi, 

It’s me, your resident black girl back with some new shit to rant about. I’ve been posting a few screenshots of short poems and paragraphs I’ve been writing on my phone as a way to heal and get over Capricorn boy from my last post on here and I see you guys like and reblog. Thank you for showing love, although it makes me sad that so many of you seem to be going through the same range of emotions I am. I’m sorry. 

I know it’s a lonely place to be in. 

But, on the bright side, I’ve got a lot of new followers joining the diary/manual/rant page that is blackgirlology and it’s nice cause I think it’s becoming a little bit of a community. So, in a way, were never really going through any of these emotions alone. If you’ve found this page-you’re part of a community. Bask in it. 

Anyways, that aside, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you. I don’t know if any of you may remember, and for some new people this will be a surprise. But I’m actually a singer songwriter from Ireland. Moved to London a year and a half ago to pursue my music dream and that’s how I met Capricorn boy whos been the source of all my poems. 

Throughout this time in between, I’ve been trying to chase my dreams, and chase them relentlessly. and this summer i did just that, let me tell you, what im about to tell you guys, is to put it simply, wild. I’ll just cut to the chase. 

It all started in July. I’d been in London for quite a long time now, over a year and now have a manager who’s my best friend first and foremost. We’ll call her Maya. I met her in my first week of moving to London in the student halls I was staying at and we became best friends pretty quick. She studies music business, so it made sense and she just naturally ended up taking up the role as my music manager. Shes seen everything. The songs I wrote about Capricorn boy, the tears, everything. And she saw everything this summer. 

I saw an ad for a record label opportunity in London. It was advertised on my university facebook page; a new indie label, looking for demo submissions for a competition they were setting up to find their new signee. I sent a screenshot to Maya who agreed I should send my stuff in. I did, they liked it, I got a meeting, we were sent terms and conditions for the competition. We signed it, the rest was supposed to be history. 

Big yikes. 

There’s so many layers to this story that I will be shortening it, just because it can get very draining for me to talk about or even write about. I’ve healed from it i think, but I still want to put it here and write it about to finally close that chapter and be done with my feelings about what happened to me and my music. 

Basically, the whole competition, the record label, the dickhead CEO, it was all a scam. I had accidentally signed away the master rights to my new song to a record label started by a fake CEO who was committing fraud and known for tricking young artists into handing over their master rights so he could profit off of them, for power. 

It was a mess. Another contestant told me and Maya when we were outside of their office. Just minutes before we were under the impression that I was doing an interview for Billboard Magazine. Honestly, I never truly believed it. Shit was too good to be true. 

But she told us everything. How he was actually a run away from Spain, where he was caught and exposed for doing the exact same thing to artists there, how he didn’t have any money to fund the competition he had somehow roped all of us into, how he was illegally avoiding paying his team, how none of the creatives we had collaborated with for photoshoots etc were paid, how everything was a lie, how he didnt have any connections, and how he was trying to convince me specifically to sign a 360 deal with his label. 

Which, guys, I’m not stupid. After the first week of being with the label for the competition and letting my song live through their disastrous marketing campaign, Maya and I long decided that regardless of what they said, I would not under any circumstances be signing anything with any entity of their company. 

After being told the truth, I had to sit down. You see, when I came across this opportunity, I thought this was finally the life I’d been manifesting coming true. I had begun to grow in my spirituality and start journaling, writing down my manifestations, and getting to work with a record label who would later offer me a fair contract before I turn 20 was one of the manifestations I had written down every night before I went to bed. However, what I’d gotten was the exact opposite. 

I remember, me, Maya, and 2 of the girls from the competition all stood around in a circle outside of their new office that the CEO also hadnt paid for wondering what our next move would be with this new information. There was still 2 other contestants inside who had no idea what was really going on was an elaborate scam. One of them wanted to go in and expose them on the spot. I said no, we had to go in and pretend like everything was normal until we figured out what to do afterwards. 

So in I went, plastering the fakest smile on my face and pretended like I still thought I was about to be speaking with Billboard Magazine. Once I got out, I broke down in Maya’s arms. 

I went home to my flatmates, Ellie and Bea and cried for hours before I had to go work a 7 hour shift at a pizza place. 

I stayed in bed, and cried, and cried. and cried again. I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed too. The only people I talked too were my flatmates E and B and Maya. 

Everything was sorted out eventually, a lot more happened, but as I’ve been writing this article for you guys, I realised that all of that stuff is no longer relevant to my journey and isnt something I want to bring back into my energetic circle because I’ve made peace with the fact that a lot of people who betrayed me when I was at my lowest, peace with the fact that these contestants who wanted to “work together” to get out of this mess, actually wanted to save their own asses and leave me in the cold. 

But I still got out of it and I’m still here. 

I nearly got sued by a man with less than 20 pound to his company account online, but hey, I’m here.

I guess why I’m telling you guys this really short account of my summer is to both record it for myself but also to say its okay to flop, its okay to fail. I did both this summer. and thank god i did. it was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

following your dreams is scary, doing it as a black girl is terrifying because society has already kind of set you up to fail. there’s already misconceptions about what you do, who you are, where you come from and how good you’re going to be at what you do. its almost like we cant fail and we need to work 10 times harder to obtain half of what the average white person will get. and sometimes it can feel like we dont have any space to fail or make mistakes because of this but let me tell you thats not true. 

if anything, the universe will put you in places that will force you to grow through the mistakes you make. and thats exactly what happened to me this summer. 

i chased my dream so relentlessly i ended up in an environment i thought i manifested, i thought was good for me, only for the universe to show me that that specific environment i’d been wishing to be in is the furthest from what i need right now in my life. 

this so called failure showed me that not everybody who smiles can be trusted, and that people can be way more deceiving than i ever thought, especially when push comes to shove and they need to save themselves. you start to see the real them when it starts to get tense. the people who seem to be around you when you’re doing good will most likely dissapear when things start to go south, including some of your oldest friends. you will get radio silence on their end. be upset. cry. but after that be glad that this situation revealed their true colours. 

and then never put any more energy into them again. 

this failure showed me how fucking strong i am. how resilient and kind i am even in the face of disrespect and actual evil. it showed me how much i can care for someone who i believe is at a risk of losing it all, and showed me that this will not always be reciprocated. and for a while i thought that meant that i had to harden myself up and grow a shell. but i dont think so. i will not allow the things ive been through to make me into a hard person when i was born soft. i mean now, im a little rough around the edges, jagged enough to cut anyone who comes too close with some of that bad energy, but soft enough to hold myself tight and glue myself back together when i need to. soft enough to hold the people who held me this summer. soft enough to help people who i know deserve it. 

im a good person in a shitty world, i don’t need to match the world and become a shitty person to survive. 

after all of this happened, i stopped writing music. 

i haven’t written anything properly or produced anything in months and sometimes i get worried that ive completely lost my talent. but thats another thing that this failure taught me, i can never truly lose whats meant to be mine. i know that i was put on this earth to create change, to inspire, to be an activist and a voice for people who dont have one. i know i was put here to do it through a creative medium and right now i still think that is music. 

i think i just need to stop being so scared to start again, to learn my craft again.

i used to be so scared of failure but now i am so thankful for it and the lessons its taught me. i had so much hurt and pain and hatred in my heart for the universe for, in my head, doing this to me. but then i realised that the universe never does anything to you, it does it for you. all of this happened in my best interest and while i definitely didnt understand at the time, i get it now.

thank you universe for the worst summer of my life. 

and my black ass will be continuing to chase my dreams relentlessly, failing, tripping and falling on my ass until i get to the very top. 

besides, if everything had just gone right, that wouldnt have been very interesting, would it?

[aprilwritesabook]

I appolgize in advance for this long ass post haha.

Alright, so here's the deal. This post is gonna be part rant, part confessional, and part inspirational speech. So if your following this blog purely for the updates on my books you can skip it haha.

I know a currently published author. I used to kinda be friends with them in highschool, but it was more like a friend of a friend type deal. But I digress. Point is. They recently released there second book on Amazon. And I really wanna be happy and proud of them, and to see it as an inspirational thing, buuuuut I'm almost 100 sure they are actually a fraud?

And that's not me being bitter. I really really really wish this wasn't the case. But I have the evidence to back this theory up.

1- they claimed that there first book sold out multiple times. And to be fair this one might be at least partially true. Its rated pretty high on amazon, But then again they only have 4 people rate it and three of those people are the editor formattor and artist for the book. Soooo. Yeah I sure hope they rated it well.

2- they are constantly posting stories to there social media that are far fetched at best. They work in a bookstore. And almost every other week its a slightly diffrent story about a customer who "didn't even know" he was the author who would "burst into tears" the second he told them what the book was about because they were just Soooo touched by the message that they wept to a total stranger??? If that had happened even once it would have been an odd occurance. And this is something that apparently happens alllll the time to them. (I hate to drudge up old memes like this, but)

3- this person has recently made a tick tock and a youtube channel. And like, the content isssss questionable? And that's not necessarily a crime or anything. But they give updates about it on social media as if they are speaking to a mass of adoring fans and like...you can see how many subs and views a person has. We know he dosn't have a big fan base. And I know that sounds harsh. But like, some more gullible people have asked him for advise on how to be "successful" and "gain a following", and he answers them with authority. Like he has the answers even though he clearly dosn't? And that feels really... disingenuous at best?

4- along the same vein as 3. They recently made a post on twitter about how they are "overwhelmed by the amount of love and support they have found on the site" and how they get "some many heartfelt messages." Annnd again. I clicked the account. They literally have 5 followers. And not a SINGLE person has EVER liked, retweeted, or commented on a SINGLE tweet of theirs. Not one. Soooo like not only are you pretending to have a huge fan base that dosn't exist your also making up there engagement with you? Which this alone I feel brings validate to my doubts about the other things. Clearly they arn't above blatant lying and extreme over exaggeration. And also they either don't realize we can all seeeee these facts. Or they don't think anyone will actually check and call them on it ?????

Now there's a lot of other examples I could give. But my point isn't to put this ONE person on blast. I'm not trying to start beef or cause damage to their reputation or anything. Which is why I won't say their name or what there books are. The only way you'd know who I'm talking is if you also knew them in real life. In which case you either already know all this, or you should, so you don't fall victim to their lies.

The reason I'm saying any of this at all is because I think I know why they are doing it. And why so many indie authors or would be media mogels feel the need to do this.

The issue with trying to "build an audience" and "self market" yourself, is that you really only have 2 ways of guaranteed sucess.

You either need to have a pre established audience based on success you've already had in the past. (IE youtubers and movie stars writing successful books cause there fans will buy anything of there's reguardless.)

Or you need to buy your way in. Be it by quitting your day job to make social media your full time job, buying ads, hiring a social media person,or hiring a team of people with their own audiences (audio book narrators, cover artists, managers, ect)

And if you don't ALREADY have an audience, and you don't have the funds to BUY your way in, then your just gonna have to get real lucky.

You can be lucky for knowing somebody with an "in". They work in publishing, or advertising, or they're your rich uncle. Just someone who you can go to to get that boost one way or another to get one of the first two methods going for you.

You can get lucky by commenting the right thing on the right post and gaining followers that way. Or by being in the right place at the right time to meet somebody important.

You can be lucky by having lots of supportive friends and family who will promote you and your work FOR you.

Or lastly (and this is in the realm of being a one in a million case here. So it basically never happens without one of the other things I mentioned also being true.)

You can be lucky by working REALLY hard, and being REALLY talented, and having the world actually NOTICE YOU somehow? Just one person with influence who can find you in your dark hole of insignificance and shine a light on you so now the world can actually seee you.

And that sucks.

You could write the greatest book in the whole world. Truly a masterpiece. But if nobody buys it or reads it because they don't know who you are??? Then it dosen't matter does it?

It sucks Soooo hard.

Because untill you get those people with influence to shine a light on you, theres nothing you can do. And the market is soooooo drenched in new indie authors that the odds of the right people finding and liking your book are slim to none.

Its super unfair.

The people who have the influence arn't gonna buy a book with 0 reviews and no social media following.

Why? Because THEIR brand depends on only recommending the good shit. And they need to find that good shit NOW. If they read every book written by nobody's online, they'd have to wade through ALOT of garbage. wasting all their valuable time and money till they found something worthy. And honestly, from a business stand point, you cant really fault them for that

This is where the lies come from.

So basically no matter how you look at it, or what your strategy is, In order to get fans, you need to ALREADY HAVE THEM.

When your just starting out. And I mean truly at square one. It really feels like the only way to "make it" is to "fake it"

If you PRETEND to have a big following. And you PRETEND your books are selling really well already. And you PRETEND that people care deeply about you and your work... Then there is a chance that nobody will do the homework to find out its all a lie.

And if they think your successful already, then it sends a message to the consumers brains of "well they must be good. Everybody loves it/them".

It sucks that so many people who have found real success did so with lies, cash, and being already well connected.

And then they buy it, and they follow you, and the confirmation bias sets in, and eventually you'll dupe enough people into liking you that you don't HAVE to lie anymore.

Those of us with no cash and too high a conscious to lie our way to the top are left with virtually no chance of succeeding no matter how hard we work or how good our content is.

And I'm not claiming to be "better than" or "more worthy" than anyone else. I wanna make it clear that of your in the portion of having it fake it so you can follow your dreams then more power to you. Its a valid strategy. I hate that it works and I hate that its the only option sometimes. But I don't hate the people as creators for "doing what it takes." I get it. Really I do.

And it suckks major ass that so many people feel like this is the only way.

My whole point here. Is that we have slowly built a system where this is our reality. And honestly? End of the day? There's not a damn thing we can do to change it at this point.

In a perfect world made of unicorns and puppies. I could say "hey lets all go ready books by completely unknown authors. Be the change you wanna see in the world." But at the end of the day, especially in the unfiltered world of self publishing, It would be a complete shot in the dark to spend your resources on something completely unknown. We rely on word of mouth, and "best sellers" and high following to do the work of filtering out the bad stuff for us and it would be unrealistic if not impossible to go back on it now. Even if we wanted to there algorithms and shit built into the code. You'll never find the books that Amazon dosnt want you to find unless you search for it directly.

Now comes the confession/inspirational bit

I know all of the above to be true...But I'm choosing not to care

I'm not gonna lie my way to the top. I'm not gonna hide my struggles out of fear of seeming inferior. So here goes

I struggle a lot with depression and anxiety. I've been working on it, and I've gotten so much better in recent years. But there are always gonna be times when I slip up and my mental illnesses take over

When I was writing my first book I felt really empowered and good about myself for finally getting past all my own barriers and following my dreams.

And then once I was done writting and editing and I was ready to show the world and get feedback. I flopped.

I couldn't find anyone willing to beta read. Those who said they would do it (even people who claimed they "couldn't wait") ghosted me after I actually sent it to them

I was hoping to get 20 people. I really wanted it to be the best it could be. Only 11 actully signed up. Of that 11, 5 people actually read it: My spouse, my brother, my best friend, and 2 others. Those two others read the first bit I sent them, took a few weeks to get back to me, said they loved it, but then Neeeeeeeeever got back to me when I sent them the next chunk.

Now you can look at all that and come to the conclusion that it sucks. I know I sure did.

The struggles at each step made me doubt myself more and more to the point that I almost gave up writing all together.

And I didn't want to take about it or how it was making me feel, even though it was having a serious impact on me. I wanted to bottle it all up and let it consume me. Allllll because I didn't want people online to write me off as a failure before even giving me the chance.

I wasn't lying about being successful. I was just trying to hide the fact that I wasn't.

And that's almost as bad. Because then all the new authors just feel worse about themselves and their journey because they think they are the only ones.

Your not alone.

Everyone is struggling.

We just aren't talking about it.

I haven't written a word in over a week because I've been so afraid my second book will be dead on arrival like my first.

And I KNOW somewhere out there is someone just like me whose thinking of giving up.

Don't.

Just keep going.

Do your best. And then come find another struggling writer and share with each other. The world outside might not understand your struggle. But another author might.

We can't change the market. We can't change the way social media works, or how people decide if they will buy things

But what we CAN change, is whether those of us within the community want to be honest about our struggles and frustrations. Or if we want to hide them away and lie about them for the sake of making more sales

I think by being honest with one another we can create a better network.

That way the next time you feel like garbage for not being an "instant celebrity" like everyone else. you can look at the community and realize that you were never the problem

If we just keep making new writing friends our collective reach will eventually take hold in the outside world. Don't wait for a random influencer to notice you. Just make one friend at a time. Be known amongst your peers and maybe the rest will follow

And if your a writer desperate for feedback, or just a friend to share your troubles with. Hit me up. My inbox is always open.

[inmilkwood]

...To the graduates I could make reference to things appropriate to your situations--the future, the past, the present, but most of all happiness. Regarding the future, I would have to rest my case on some bromide, like the future is yours for the taking. Or, that it’s whatever you make of it. But the fact is it is not yours for the taking. And it is not whatever you make of it. The future is also what other people make of it, how other people will participate in it and impinge on your experience of it. But I’m not going to talk anymore about the future because I’m hesitant to describe or predict because I’m not even certain that it exists. That is to say, I’m not certain that somehow, perhaps, a burgeoning ménage a trois of political interests, corporate interests and military interests will not prevail and literally annihilate an inhabitable, humane future. Because I don’t think we can any longer rely on separation of powers, free speech, religious tolerance or unchallengeable civil liberties as a matter of course. That is, not while finite humans in the flux of time make decisions of infinite damage. Not while finite humans make infinite claims of virtue and unassailable power that are beyond their competence, if not their reach. So, no happy talk about the future... But again, it seemed inappropriate, very inappropriate, for me to delve into a past for people who are in the process of making one, forging their own, so I consider this focusing on your responsibility as graduates—graduates of this institution and citizens of the world—and to tell you once again, repeat to you the admonition, a sort of a wish, that you go out and save the world. That is to suggest to you that with energy and right thinking you can certainly improve, certainly you might even rescue it. Now that’s a heavy burden to be placed on one generation by a member of another generation because it's a responsibility we ought to share, not save the world, but simply to love it, meaning don’t hurt it, it’s already beaten and scoured and gasping for breath. Don’t hurt it or enable others who do and will. Know and identify the predators waving flags made of dollar bills. They will say anything, promise anything, do everything to turn the planet into a casino where only the house cards can win—little people with finite lives love to play games with the infinite. But I thought better of that, selecting your responsibilities for you. If I did that, I would assume your education had been in vain and that you were incapable of deciding for yourself what your responsibilities should be... One more flawless article of clothing, one more elaborate toy, the truly perfect diet, the harmless but necessary drug, the almost final elective surgery, the ultimate cosmetic—all designed to maintain hunger for stasis. While children are being eroticized into adults, adults are being exoticized into eternal juvenilia. I know that happiness has been the real, if covert, target of your labors here, your choices of companions, of the profession that you will enter. You deserve it and I want you to gain it, everybody should. But if that’s all you have on your mind, then you do have my sympathy, and if these are indeed the best years of your life, you do have my condolences because there is nothing, believe me, more satisfying, more gratifying than true adulthood. The adulthood that is the span of life before you. The process of becoming one is not inevitable. Its achievement is a difficult beauty, an intensely hard won glory, which commercial forces and cultural vapidity should not be permitted to deprive you of. Now, if I can’t talk inspiringly and hopefully about the future or the past or the present and your responsibility to the present or happiness, you might be wondering why I showed up. If things are that dour, that tentative, you might ask yourself, what’s this got to do with me? What about my life? I didn’t ask to be born, as they say. I beg to differ with you. Yes, you did! In fact, you insisted upon it. It’s too easy, you know, too ordinary, too common to not be born. So your presence here on Earth is a very large part your doing... Of course, you’re general, but you’re also specific. A citizen and a person, and the person you are is like nobody else on the planet. Nobody has the exact memory that you have. What is now known is not all what you are capable of knowing. You are your own stories and therefore free to imagine and experience what it means to be human without wealth. What it feels like to be human without domination over others, without reckless arrogance, without fear of others unlike you, without rotating, rehearsing and reinventing the hatreds you learned in the sandbox. And although you don’t have complete control over the narrative (no author does, I can tell you), you could nevertheless create it. Although you will never fully know or successfully manipulate the characters who surface or disrupt your plot, you can respect the ones who do by paying them close attention and doing them justice. The theme you choose may change or simply elude you, but being your own story means you can always choose the tone. It also means that you can invent the language to say who you are and what you mean. But then, I am a teller of stories and therefore an optimist, a believer in the ethical bend of the human heart, a believer in the mind's disgust with fraud and its appetite for truth, a believer in the ferocity of beauty. So, from my point of view, which is that of a storyteller, I see your life as already artful, waiting, just waiting and ready for you to make it art.

Toni Morrison's Commencement Address to the Wellesley College Class of 2004

[studionafay]

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[fireflysummers]

MOB PSYCHO 100 FANFICTION Job Offers

Serizawa outgrows Spirits and Such.

Nobody is happy with this.

There’s a man in a tan suit, exuding the same oily persona that Reigen does at times, but with far greater amounts. For some reason, he sets Serizawa’s teeth on edge, makes his skin crawl, and he makes a conscious decision to put Reigen between them.

They meet on the sidewalk, outside of a supposedly haunted house. The client is so sure of the haunting that he’s hired two psychic agencies, to ensure that the building is ready for renovations.

There’s no spirit there. Serizawa knows this, and nods at Reigen to make sure that the other man knows as well. All this has become routine, a familiar pattern that he can slip into, and try to forget the other man accompanying them of their tour.

The exorcism is, of course, uneventful. Reigen throws salt, the client pays in cash up front, and they part ways.

Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to go.

“Hey.” The other man’s voice stops them before Serizawa and Reigen can begin the walk to the train station. “You, tall one. You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”  There’s an unspoken implication that Reigen, however, is not.

The client is already long gone, excitedly giving the green light for tomorrow’s renovations. There’s no danger to Reigen at the moment, but Serizawa’s skin crawls as the man speaks.

“Oh?” Reigen turns and crosses his arms, eyes narrowed and calculating, sizing the man up in every way.

“You know he’s a real scam artist, don’t you?” the man continues, ignoring Reigen altogether and sidling up to Serizawa, close enough that he can finally feel the other man’s aura. An esper, for sure. A weak one, but he too is the ‘real deal.’

“I mean, I am too but everybody in the business—all the real espers, that is—know your boss is a fraud. He was all over the news back last October. You’d have to be hiding under a rock not to know that.”

Serizawa wants to respond, but his mind stalls, trying to process this information.  His mind flashes back, cataloging dates, wondering how he could possibly have missed this. And then it occurs to him that eight months ago in October, he had indeed been living under a metaphorical rock. Or an umbrella.

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to hang around this guy, if you don’t want to,” the man gives him a sleezy grin, and with an oily slick motion slips a white business card into the pocket of Serizawa’s suit coat. “Our agency is always happy to bring new espers on board. Put your powers to good use, stop wasting your time with wannabes like this hack.”

With that, the man shrugs, turns, and leaves. Serizawa watches him go, still too stunned to properly register everything he’s been told. It takes him a moment to realize that Reigen has already begun walking, leaving Serizawa to jog to catch up.

 When they get back to the office, Reigen immediately sits down at his desk. He’d barely said a word on the way home, uncharacteristically quiet with hands eerily still at his sides. There’s an expression in his eyes that Serizawa can’t place, one that he doesn’t like.

The expression doesn’t fade as Reigen clicks away at his laptop. Doesn’t fade when Serizawa brings him a cup of tea.

As Serizawa turns away to return to his usual place to do homework, Reigen catches him, a hand resting on his forearm.

“Hold on,” Reigen says, actually getting to his feet and motioning for Serizawa to take the seat. “I…well, I should’ve shown this to you earlier, but I don’t really like looking at the files myself.”

Confused, Serizawa sits awkwardly behind Reigen’s desk, using the mouse to peruse the folder Reigen has dug from the depths of his archives.  There are about two dozen pdfs and a couple video files, all dated within a couple weeks of each other.

He doesn’t want to look.

He doesn’t know what is in those files, but he doesn’t want to know.

Serizawa feels his stomach clench and wants more than anything to return to his usual seat, but Reigen is watching him expectantly. So Serizawa swallows his anxiety and begins clicking through the archive.

They’re newspaper and magazine articles, and television news reports. With each successive report, Serizawa clutches tighter at the mouse, a nearly foreign rage rising from somewhere inside him. The final video, cut short by the explosion of electric lights and the destruction of news cameras, does nothing to set it aside. When at last he closes the file, he sits there in utter silence, trying to wrestle down his emotions enough to speak.

Reigen beats him to it.

“Sorry that’s…real bad,” he confides, and there’s a grating honesty in his voice that rubs against Serizawa’s skin like sandpaper. “I really should’ve told you before, I guess. Waiting until I didn’t have a choice makes me look sketchier, but well…” It’s never a good sign when Reigen flounders with words.  But his distress only serves as fuel to Serizawa’s anger.

“Look, Serizawa,” Reigen says at length, “I’m not an esper.”

The silence stretches out between them. Reigen’s face is entirely closed now, waiting for a rejection he’s resigned himself to.

Serizawa lets out a long breath, the hot air hissing between his teeth.

“I know,” he says, forcing himself to continue while Reigen gapes at him with eyes wide. “I  mean. My last job…I was supposed to find and fight espers. Some are better at hiding it than others, but…I can tell you aren’t one, Mr. Reigen.”

Reigen opens his mouth once, twice, an excellent impression of a fish struggling. And then he deflates, head bowed and cradled in his hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I thought that’s why you were…”  Reigen sighs, and straightens. “It was all right, in the end, you know. Business went through a little boom after Mob’s little show of power at the press conference.”

“Besides,” he finishes, “I really…did it to myself. I was lucky Mob decided to come back and save my sorry ass.”

It’s really not all right, but Reigen is clearly done talking about it. He’s jumping topics again, faster than Serizawa can follow.

“So, a job offer!” Reigen says brightly. It takes Serizawa to catch on to what he’s talking about. When he does, he swears he can feel the little white business card burning in his pocket.

“It’s not really a job offer,” Serizawa mutters, ashamed that he hadn’t immediately thrown the card away.

“Of course it is!” Reigen says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll be graduating from high school soon, won’t you? You should probably start thinking about where you’re going to go then!”

Oh. Serizawa thinks, his stomach dropping.

It’s not like he hasn’t considered it before, envisioning a nearly boundless future where before he had none. But it’s always been a daydream, and hearing Reigen say it feels…wrong.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always got a place with me!” Reigen says, backpedaling, “It’s just…the world is your oyster! You should live while you’re still young!”

Serizawa doesn’t want to point out that Reigen’s rehashing one of the speeches he uses on Shigeo-kun. Doesn’t want to point out that Reigen is younger than him, but doesn’t seem to have any grand visions for his own future either.

But instead, he agrees politely and excuses himself from Reigen’s desk to go back to do his homework.

For the rest of the afternoon, the business card feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket.

 Serizawa is one semester away from graduating high school, and people are pointing him towards a career counsellor.

He doesn’t like the woman, with her stern eyes that peer out from rectangle glasses.  He’s wearing his normal business suit, but the way that she eyes him makes the familiar fabric feel…claustrophobic. Uncomfortable.

He has to physically stop himself from squirming, or worse, from pulling back into his shell.

(He finds himself desperately wishing that Reigen had accompanied him.)

“Mr. Serizawa, you have…quite a resume,” she says at length.

He knows he does. He and Reigen had worked hard on that single page document, fleshing it out to bring out his prior ‘work experience’ without screaming to the word ‘reformed terrorist.’ It’s still too vague, he suspects, but he’s sure as hell not going to discuss those four years of his life with this woman here.

“So tell me, Mr. Serizawa,” she begins again, after several seconds of silence, “Your current place of employment is…Spirits and Such Consultation?”

“Yes,” he nods, glad that she’s picked on the one line item he’s comfortable talking about.

“It’s not really…well. I’ll just come right out and say it. You’re going to have a difficult time finding a job, based on that alone.”

Serizawa sits in stunned silence, reeling from the words. The way that the woman speaks makes it sound like the consultation is shameful.  It’s not, he knows that as sure as the sun will rise, but her judgmental gaze still causes a blush to begin dusting his cheeks.

“You have a lot of potential, despite your late start in life,” she continues, “But I think you should consider seeking an internship somewhere, perhaps, to add some more…professional line items to your resume.”

“That aside, I would really suggest you look into careers with a little more stability. A small office like the one you work at must be barely compensating you, let alone offering benefits of any sort.”

That should feel like another dig at Reigen and his business, but this time Serizawa stops short. It’s true that he’s not paid much, but that’s never really bothered him before. He has funds left over from his time in CLAW, as well as a small inheritance left from by his mother. It’s not much, but he can live comfortably in his small apartment, and use his income from Reigen for food.

But Reigen…doesn’t have that luxury, he realizes now. Spirits and Such is his only source of income, and while business has picked up… he thinks back to the jokes he’s heard Kageyama’s brother make about how stingy the con man is, never compensating Shigeo-kun for his work. Thinks back to clients with little to nothing, who had their fees waived entirely. Thinks back to the meals Reigen has bought him after stressful days.

Thinks back, and for the first time wonders how much kindness costs.

The thought sits heavily in Serizawa’s stomach.

He barely makes it through the rest of the meeting, nodding vaguely at everything the counsellor says.

Back at the office, Reigen seems excited to hear about his talk with the counsellor. Normally, Serizawa would assume that it was the man’s normal excitement about his overall progress. Or at worst, that Reigen wanted to hear how well he’d done editing the resume.

But now, with thoughts of finances lingering over his head, the enthusiasm feels…different.

He leaves that day, ashamed that he did not notice sooner.

 He’s not going to work for that consultation office.

Or any consultation office, if he’s honest with himself.  The very thought feels like betrayal.

And that aside…if he’s going to leave Spirits and Such, he’d like to try something new. Something that doesn’t depend on his psychic abilities.

Even if it’s as dull as a desk job, it’s still something.

Secretly, he hopes to find something close to Spirits and Such. Close enough, maybe, to catch Reigen staying late at the office. Close enough to have plenty of excuses to take him out to dinner, in part to return the favor, and in part because…

He shakes the thoughts out of his head, and tells himself to focus on the tasks at hand.

 In the end, he finds a job. It’s well paid (compared to what Reigen has been paying him at least), but it’s a good distance from Spirits and Such.  He decides to take it though, after a long streak of bad luck. It turns out the counsellor, as condescending as she was, hadn’t been totally wrong about the state of his resume.

Reigen seems positively overjoyed when Serizawa presents to him the official offer letter, smacking him on the back and offering to take him out for a drink later. Unfortunately, Serizawa’s classmates had again beat him to it, and they’d had to reschedule for later in that week.

That, however, never entirely panned out because suddenly there was so much to do. And before Serizawa knows it he’s putting the few personal items he leaves at the office into a box, preparing to spirit them away to his new place of work.

Reigen helps, where he can, but clients come in and out as Serizawa packs, distracting the man. Soon, Serizawa runs out of ways to stall, and is left clutching his box and announcing his eminent departure. The office is blessedly quiet at that moment, and Reigen gets up from his desk and wanders over to where Serizawa stands, a strange knot of anxiety in his gut.

Reigen stands back a little ways, observing him with a crooked grin. There’s pride in his eyes, and the enthusiasm that he’s shown non-stop for Serizawa’s progress, but also something…else.

That something vanishes the moment Reigen begins to talk, vanishing into his exuberant words and rapid hand gestures.

“You got everything?” he asks, peeking into the box, “You sure you don’t want the stapler, to remember me by?”

“I’m not leaving for good, Reigen,” Serizawa replies, almost automatically.

“Sure, sure,” Reigen shrugs, tone unconvinced. “Either way, it’s the start of a new adventure, Serizawa! You should be proud of yourself!”

And he is. He really, really is.

If he’d told himself, not long ago, where he stood at this moment in time, his past self would not have believed him.

It feels good.

(Except that it doesn’t.)

That something has returned to Reigen’s demeanor, and he gently reaches a hand out, placing it on Serizawa’s shoulder. The look in the other man’s eyes is…calm. Placid, almost eerily so.

“You’ve grown up,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to be amazing, Serizawa. Text me, and we’ll get drinks, okay?”

“Thank you, Reigen,” Serizawa hears himself say, and almost in a daze, turns and leaves.

 The world outside is bright, almost blindingly so, but Serizawa barely notices. There’s no spring in his step, no feeling of a excitement for the unlimited future ahead. His thoughts are jumbled again, but amidst all the mental noise Reigen’s farewell continues to ring.

You’ve grown up.

It takes him a moment to place where he’s heard Reigen say that before, in that same way.  

The video of the press conference.

He’d only seen the video that once, and at the time had been so furious he could barely hear above the sound of his own heartbeat. But that’s when he’d said it before, right before the film was cut short in a show of psychic powers.

He remembers Reigen’s sparse explanation.

I really…did it to myself. I was lucky Mob decided to come back and save my sorry ass.

He’d been so, so angry at the time…angry at the cruelty of the people that Reigen had helped. Angry at the jealousy of other self-proclaimed psychics towards him. Angry that anybody would go out of their way to hurt Reigen so deeply.

He hadn’t even paused to wonder how this could have happened.

He hadn’t paused to wonder why Shigeo-kun hadn’t been there in the first place, supporting his master as he always did.

He hadn’t paused to wonder why Shigeo-kun had to come back. That there had ever been a time when Shigeo-kun had left.

He’s probably overthinking it.

Except that, it’s not too late to check. Just in case.

With a split second decision, Serizawa whirls and almost sprints back to Spirits and Such.

 The office is exactly as he had left it, when he arrives. There’s something off, though, because he swears he hears a soft, watery gasp as the bell chimes to announce his return.

Reigen isn’t at his usual post, though, and the laptop is folded down and silent. It shouldn’t be hard to find him, but it takes a half second too long for Serizawa to spot where he sits on one of the couches. Reigen seems…smaller. He’s curled in on himself, so tightly that it looks like it hurts.

Of course, he immediately shifts when he hears the door chime, flying to his feet and stretching to make it look as though he hadn’t been hunched into a corner just a half second prior.

“Serizawa!” Reigen says, voice suspiciously thick. He clears his throat and manages to start the next sentence off with clearer tone. “I didn’t…did you forget something?”

“Yes,” he replies, slowly. Serizawa is watching Reigen’s face now. Eying red, puffy eyes and blotchy skin. Eying tear and snot tracks that had been hastily and unsuccessfully wiped away.

“Ah well. We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy here,” Reigen confirms, nose obviously still a little stuffed. “I’m just…going to go make myself some tea.” He wants to escape into the kitchen area, Serizawa realizes. To compose himself. “You go ahead and look around for…whatever it is.”

“Reigen!” Serizawa’s tone is surprisingly sharp, desperate. He sends the box he’s still holding off, spinning away from him with idling psychic power. He crosses the space between them, hand outreached in an attempt to close the distance even faster. He manages to snag the sleeve of Reigen’s coat.

The other man has stiffened, eyes suddenly panicked. Before, there had been a chance that he could slip away to compose himself without anybody noticing his grave error. But now the signs were far too clear.

“Sorry,” Reigen says after a moment, “I didn’t…you weren’t supposed to see me like this.”

“Reigen,” Serizawa breaths, slowly adjusting his grip until both hands settle on Reigen’s shoulders. Still, the man does not look up at him.  The floodgates have been opened, the last bit of self-control vanished. Try as he might, Reigen can’t hide the returning tears.  He’s still mumbling though, watery words (mostly apologies), slipping out almost faster than Serizawa could follow.

“It’s pathetic, I’m sorry. I’m pathetic. I promise, I’m happy for you, I’m really happy for you, please don’t think…” his voice cracks a little, voice lowering to a whisper, “Please don’t think I’m trying to force you to stay here.”

One of Serizawa’s hands moves from Reigen’s shoulder, raising Reigen chin until their eyes meet. Or should meet, but Reigen still stubbornly looks away.

“Arataka,” he says at last, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Reigen jumps at the sound of his first name, and finally, finally returns Serizawa’s gaze. He’s searching for something, Serizawa realizes, and hopes desperately that Reigen finds whatever he’s looking for.

Except he can’t risk that, this time.

So instead, Serizawa bends down, planting a gentle kiss on Reigen’s forehead.

The other man gives a shuttered gasp, but instead of pulling away he leans in, closing what little space is left between them.

Encouraged, Serizawa gives another butterfly kiss. Then another. Slowly, gently. Down from Reigen’s forehead, down the bridge of his nose, down his tear-streaked cheek.  The tears have stopped now, though, replaced with wide-eyed shock and the awkward hitching-breaths that come after a good cry.

He pauses, a hair’s breadth from Reigen’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly deeply ashamed, “I thought you wanted…needed me to go.”

Reigen’s mouth meets his, preventing him from apologizing forward.

And for once, there are no more words. Just the two of them, holding each other tightly, terrified at the thought of how close they’d both come to letting go entirely.

[jssberry22]

#NaNoWriMo - Day 2

(Again, in the event that I do write enough words in my poems to hit the 50,000 mark, I’ll go ahead and turn it into a novel. For now I’m using this month to challenge myself to write more every day. I really need get back to doing what I love and I haven’t been writing that much lately. Also, I noticed I have typos already... (-_-) so I’ll be fixing those eventually. In the event it changes the word count then I’ll be sure to correct so I have an accurate record. The following poem is 920 words.)

Sometimes It’s easier to dream Than it is to chase the vision

 I’m sorry Let me rephrase that

 When you are lazy And you are not willing To pursue the things You said You’ve wanted to do Your whole entire life Well then It becomes easier To fall into the trap of Wishful thinking Rather than actively engaging The sacrifice

 I am finding that out right now

I knew I was born to be a writer Because the day I learned to write Was when I fell in love with it I vividly recall Practicing writing my letters In an alphabet workbook Over and over again in pencil Because I loved it that much 

And when those words Transformed And became meaning And the meaning took flight My heart soared This, I thought, This is what I am supposed to do I don’t know what it’s called yet 

But this is exactly What I was meant to be 

I was under the false impression However That being good at something Means instant success 

Hard lessons come with that You see You might be really good At what you do But there are always ten more Who are even better And just because You’re good at something Does not automatically guarantee A spot on the team 

No, no baby You’re going to have to work for it Just like everybody else 

Did you think that was a joke When they told you, “No one is going to hand you Anything; You have to work For what you want”? 

Yeah, I bet you did 

I bet even You did believe it You just didn’t think it would apply To you 

It’s okay. I didn’t either But life certainly let me know How untrue that is 

There are no exceptions To the rule 

I used to envy some of the people I saw Looking at how easy things seemed For them What real work did they put in, I wondered And they were younger than me… 

I grew bitter. I’m still kinda salty about it, Actually. 

And yet, In the midst of all this Complaining I could have done something About it A long time ago 

Start-stutter-stop Start-stutter-stop Start-stutter-close the shutter Close the shutter and just Stop already That has been the pattern The sequence of me 

I think… I could be mistaken, but I think… Somewhere along the way I became spiteful I lost the value of hard work Because I’ve been watching These perfectly plastic Miraculously manipulated Beautifully botched Fairytale frauds An astutely, astronomically astounding Extremely egregious, exciting events 

Because one thing that rings true I don’t know what all that person Had to give up How much of themselves They lost To get what they have Behind those smiles I ponder How much of their soul Is left 

There are days I feel like I missed the boat Years ago And now… Well, now I'm just too old 

What do I really have to offer? What can I actually put on this resume? It’s the end for me. 

I stare at my Word sometimes And I ask God, “Do women like me Truly have a destiny?” 

What exactly is my purpose Other than this? 

I mean I get it, you know Often I feel I take my gift Way too for granted Hence why I’m sitting here Challenging myself To write more Instead of daydreaming about it Because when you actually do it Why waste time thinking about it? 

That is, of course, When you really don’t think you can 

I think others have believed in me More than I ever have 

I want it to be easy I hate that it always has to be Such a struggle And I keep telling myself I’ll appreciate it more Because I had to endure for it In the hopes that I’ll buy into what I’m saying When I say that to myself 

I truly am lazy I’m out of shape And I think It’s been long past due To stop watching other people Live their dreams And start pressing towards mine 

It’s like I said the last time The worst thing You could ever do Is give up on yourself The last person you ever want To disappoint Is you 

I think of that little girl Who read poems out loud In her room Eyes full of tears Because no one would listen But she figured Someday Somewhere out there Someone would And she kept reading Because she thought Someone was And she told herself She’d make sure to write things That would inspire and touch All the broken people Like her 

That was her greatest dream 

And sometimes I cannot bear to stare into the mirror For fear of seeing the sadness Welling up in that little girl’s eyes Her silent screams That stream down her cheeks Saying, “But what about our dream? You used to believe in me, Remember? When they told you it was impossible And you couldn’t do it, That you weren’t a great writer, That what you wrote was trash, When they laughed at you And talked about you as you walked by…” 

I can feel the tears In my own eyes As I hear her say, “Don’t you… Don’t you… remember?” Her voice breaking As she fights to hold in her sobs 

No… I cannot fail that little girl I was so focused on proving them wrong That I forgot 

She is The most important thing And I Cannot fail I cannot let her down

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 1x04-- Henceforth Known As Property

Thoughts on 1x04 under the cut!

The episode begins with an image of the schtup list from last week, which is… fine but not engaging. Maia is annotating it in a crowded elevator. That makes sense! Why wouldn’t you take a confidential document, which you obtained illegally, pertaining to an ongoing investigation on to a crowded elevator at your workplace?

A woman offers Maia unsolicited cooking advice. She’s confused. Another woman jumps in to dispute the first woman’s advice. Maia remains confused. She exits the elevator, and Lucca greets her with information about a fertility case she’ll be working on.

Maia says that’s good, but Lucca realizes she’s a bit shaken and asks if she’s okay. Lucca needs Maia to find precedents for the case, then adds, “And tell me if you’re getting some bad-mouthing.” “If I’m getting…?” Maia asks. “Well, people say things. You know, sometimes people don’t know better,” Lucca explains. When Maia asks if people are talking, Lucca responds, “No. I mean, no more than what you said.” Sorry, does this mean that Lucca, who actually knows Maia, believes that an unverified twitter feed with the bio “Daddy’s little lesbian” is an account Maia is involved with?

Before Lucca can explain further, Barbara pulls her into a meeting.

Marissa knows what’s up: “It’s not your twitter feed, is it?” she says to Maia. Maia is still confused, so Marissa shows her.

“It’s hard to get excited about work when people call you lesbo behind your back.” -- @MaiaRindellSays. Yes. Because real Maia would definitely tweet about her workplace in the middle of a scandal under her real name. This sounds believable.

(I won’t get stuck too much on this point; I was in a fandom once where a 12 year old impersonated someone on Twitter and frequently tweeted about her own middle school homework and people still believed she was a 40 year old celebrity.)

(I don’t know where this music is from!!! Someone find it, please!)

The profile for @MaiaRindellSays (which is not a real account, boooo! The writers USED to make real accounts for their featured twitter trolls, like @Upriser7!) reads: “Daddy’s little lesbian. Love life and never change. YOLO.” I mean that sounds totally fake but okay.

This twitter account—which we later learn is a bot set up years ago—must be a super smart bot if it knows to tweet Maia’s feelings about her dad going to jail.

Fake Maia also tweets about canning fruit, and I wish they’d given her a different hobby because every time anyone says “canning” I think they’re going to summon Louis Canning and I’d rather they didn’t.

Fake Maia talks about sex too!

“Do you have any enemies?” Marissa asks Maia. Maia has a lot of enemies, Marissa! (Here’s a better question: does Maia have any friends? I understood when Alicia—who was in her early 40s in TGW season 1 (which took place in 2009-2010), was technologically inept, and was kind of a loner—didn’t know when internet things were happening. But would Maia really be so disconnected? Is she making an effort to unplug after those harassing calls? Are friends not willing to trust her? Do they think it’s too awkward to reach out? Are Amy’s friends reaching out to her? Why aren’t we seeing more about this side of the scandal? YMMV but to me, these questions are far more interesting than tracking down a twitter troll.)  

“It’s the scandal,” Maia realizes. “What do I do?”

Marissa says the way to track down the fake is to tweet to her. “I’m gay and like canning, too. We should meet up. :-)” Marissa DMs fake Maia.

COTW time! Case stuff happens!

I’m amused that the client’s last name is Salano, which I kept hearing as Solano at first, and her case is a dispute about eggs. Jane the Virgin, anyone? I’m sure that show could find a way to connect Laura Salano to Raf and Petra.

One thing I like about the case: Laura is a friend of Barbara’s. Another thing I like: the RBK team on this case is all female.

Barbara calls Diane in to help on the case, and once Diane leaves, Barbara moves closer to the client. That’s when it becomes clear they’re friends. “So you’re expanding?” Laura asks, referring to Diane. “Girl…” is all Barbara can say. “Explain,” Laura says. And then we cut away from them, and that’s fine, because we already know how Barbara feels about this. But this is one of those little “throwaway” scenes that end up mattering a lot to a show. Seeing Barbara around a long-time friend clues us in on who Barbara is outside of the office, even if all the information we’re really getting here is that Barbara has friends. (And, uh, that means a lot in this universe, because a lot of the characters don’t seem to have friends.)

Diane spies a man in Adrian’s office. She asks Marissa who it is. She has a suspicion, but needs Marissa to confirm. Marissa tries to be inconspicuous… and knocks a painting off the wall. Adrian and the man—Mike Kresteva, the Lying Liar—turn to look at her.

“Mike Kresteva,” Marissa tells Diane. (It makes sense for Marissa to recognize him; she’s Eli’s daughter after all.) Diane gets worried, and instructs Marissa to pull Adrian out of the meeting.

Marissa and Mike make eye contact. I wonder if Mike recognizes her. It would make sense if he did.

“Mike Kresteva. What’s he doing here?” Diane asks Adrian once he’s left the meeting. Adrian doesn’t know yet and wants to know why Diane is alarmed. “One of the partners at my firm, Alicia Florrick, knew him. He made her life hell,” Diane explains, accurately.

I don’t think we’ve ever seen Diane interact with Kresteva before, though he would’ve been a figure she’d heard a lot about, both through the gubernatorial race (she represented Peter in that voter fraud case!) and through Alicia. This Alicia reference is a necessary one. Diane doesn’t fear Kresteva because she disagrees with his politics; she fears him because she’s heard Alicia’s stories. I doubt Diane knows the anecdote about Alicia calling Kresteva Hitler and to his face and then telling him to die chocking on his own blood because she knows what she actually says to him doesn’t matter one bit, but, yeah. Kresteva’s that awful.

Anyway, Diane is warning Adrian that Kresteva is a Lying Liar.

The scariest thing about Kresteva, I think, is that he’s totally aware he’s lying. He just doesn’t care. He’s not gullible or easily confused. No—he’s calculated and cruel.

“I can handle myself,” Adrian tells her. Yeah. Sure. Diane isn’t satisfied with that answer and absentmindedly hands Marissa a sheet of paper. Marissa has to remind her to explain—a nice way of conveying how consuming and intense Diane’s dread of interacting with Kresteva is.

Kresteva is now on a task force about police accountability. He’s a fictional character in a fictional world, but that still makes me want to cry. The first time we met Kresteva, in W319 (Blue Ribbon Panel), he was making excuses for and shutting down inquiry into a cop shooting and then framing an unarmed black man. (That’s still one of the most eerily prescient episodes of TGW. The cop in that episode was named Zimmerman… and the episode filmed right before Trayvon Martin was murdered.)  

Maia and Marissa are still waiting for a reply from the Twitter account. (Wouldn’t a bot reply instantly? HOW DO TWITTER BOTS WORK? I’m almost curious enough to go down a Google rabbit hole!)

FakeMaia tweeted back. She wants a picture. So, Marissa goes into her “photostream,” which she keeps on her work laptop for occasions like this (what are you into, Marissa!?), and selects a picture of some random stock image girl. Maia wants Marissa to get a photo back from the bot. The bot sends one back instantly. Several, actually. They’re artsy images of a naked woman who doesn’t look like Maia but whom Maia says is really her.

So wait. There’s a bot on Twitter that carries on conversations, is up to date with the news, has hobbies, and just sends nude pics of Maia if you ask!? And it was created by some random photographer, on his own, several years ago? Is this supposed to be a play on that racist Microsoft bot from a while back?! Ohmygod I’m gonna stop nitpicking. Or, at least, I’ll try. I’m not sure if I’m more concerned that this could happen or skeptical of the plot.

At least Maia knows who’s behind the account now: she remembers the photographer. (Hey, they did this plotline on Desperate Housewives!)

“This feels like old times,” Kresteva remarks as he steps into Diane’s office. Again, not sure they ever met on screen. “And what line are you selling today, Mike?” Diane asks. “Why is everybody so suspicious of me?” Kresteva wonders. Hmmm. Why indeed.

He informs Diane of his new position. She refuses to give advice or say much. Kresteva says he’s changed. Sure. “How is your son doing, Mike?” Diane tries to change the subject. Turns out Kresteva’s son (named Jax; I remember this because I’ve been thinking about characters named Jax because of the Rindells) passed away. Kresteva almost seems like a human being telling his story.

The second he leaves her office, Diane Chumhums (HIIIIiiI CHUMMIE I LOVE YOU YOU SILLY LITTLE GOPHER) to determine whether or not Kresteva’s son really died. She hates that she has to look it up, but she does. Turns out Kresteva was telling the truth about that, sadly.

Diane goes to the fertility clinic to follow up on something COTW related. The doctor mistakes her for a patient. Diane laughs that off—“I’m not here for myself.”

Case stuff happens.

There’s a joke that goes on for way too long involving a doctor who’s hard of hearing. It’s supposed to be funny. It is not funny.

Sleazy Twitter Bot Bro is now a photographer who specializes in portraits of children. Gross.

Maia is, in theory, on the case of the week, but aside from the one scene where Lucca asks her to do a bit of research, her main work task seems to be investigating her personal life and using firm resources (computers, support staff) to do so. Either that, or she has a really generous lunch hour.

Marissa is comfortable being very assertive around Bro. When she speaks up on Maia’s behalf, Bro wonders if she’s Maia’s new girlfriend. Sounds like someone’s precious masculinity was wounded when Maia came out. Boo hoo. Marissa explains she’s not, “but that doesn’t matter.”

They broke up four years ago. I wonder if Maia’s bisexual or if she realized after (or during) the relationship she was gay?

The twitter bot was set up two years ago, which means Bro was bitter and resentful for two years. (Also means that Amy and Maia, if we believe the writers requested a photo of Amy and Maia for the icon, have been together at least 2 years.)

“What’s a Twitterbot?” Maia asks. … exactly what it sounds like, Maia. What weird sort of bubble does Maia live in!? (Alternatively: writers, it’s never a good look to make your characters more ignorant than they realistically should be for the sake of exposition.)

The bot will duplicate itself if he turns it off. Wha?

When Bro tells Maia to “tell your girlfriend to fix it,” she slaps him. Yay, Maia! (If this happened in the first episode of the show, I’d be worried about the series finale. I think we’re safe because it’s episode four.)

Maia and Marissa return from their non-work related adventure at the same time Diane and Lucca get back from working on the case. The subpoena guy (I’m sure there’s a technical name for this—process server?) who’s a crew member or something is in the RBK lobby, subpoenaing everyone who worked on the police brutality case in F1x01. (At least, I assume that’s why he’s serving them, since he doesn’t subpoena Barbara or anyone else.)

There’s something missing from the Maia subplot—and, really, from the way Maia’s been written so far in these first four episodes (well, mostly just these last two, so there’s hope!). Whenever the show could explore how Maia’s feeling or what she’s thinking or how she’s doing at work, it instead goes for a plot-driven conspiracy. Twists and turns are fun, but Maia’s a new character. These plots don’t give me much of a sense of who Maia is or how she’s coping with the aftermath of the scandal. Consider, for a minute, what the show would look like if Maia’s parents were obviously guilty. Instead of having to wait for the reveal of what really happened (which I don’t care about at all), we’d be dealing with Maia realizing the betrayal that definitely occurred. We’d be seeing her lose her innocence and rebuild instead of watching her investigate various family members we as the audience have no reason to trust. Maia would be the focus, not the facts of the scandal. Same goes for the harassment. Why can’t it just be some random person on Twitter who made an account, and Maia has to learn to steel herself against it? Why does it have to be an elaborate Twitter bot that also makes Fake News?

I keep coming back to the way TGW season 1 worked for Alicia. First, and I didn’t realize how smart this was until TGF began, Peter committed two crimes: one against the law and one against his family. Alicia even makes that distinction in the pilot. She doesn’t care as much about the crimes he allegedly committed, and she (and we) don’t know if he really did it. What she does know, and what we do know, is that he cheated on her with prostitutes. Since there are two scandals there, Alicia can lose her trust in Peter because of one (the cheating) while the writers are free to play around with the mystery/conspiracy of the other. But we don’t have that with the Rindells. Their scandal is all doubt.

While I’m on this kick of comparing the writing for Alicia to the writing for Maia, I’d also like to mention W109, Threesome. That episode has a plot that’s similar to Maia’s in this episode. Alicia is the last to know about Peter’s call girl’s appearance on Chelsea Handler’s show. Zach and Grace know about it. Peter’s legal team and publicity team know about it. Everyone in the office knows. It’s not until Alicia’s assistant pulls up the video that she finds out. We see Alicia react to the interview; how much it pains her to be called “frigid.” Alicia’s called to meet with Will and Diane before she can even finish watching the clip, and we get a great little sequence of Alicia walking through the firm, her confidence waning as she notices everyone’s eyes on her. Her whole demeanor changes completely from what we saw as she walked in to work. Will and Diane are talking about damage control when she arrives, and we can tell from the way Alicia’s moving she expects that they’re going to talk to her about the video. (I’m rewatching this now, and holy shit, guys, she even does the thing with her hands to calm herself down. You know, that thing she does in the last minutes of the series finale. SHE DOES IT HERE TOO.) She only relaxes, slightly, when she realizes they’re talking about Stern’s scandal, not hers. And the whole episode plays out with Alicia trying to figure out what’s going on with Peter, how to make Amber stop, and how to talk to her children about their father’s sex life. And, oh yeah, she’s on a case the whole time, too. I could talk for hours about Alicia’s arc in W109, and how the episode deepens the audience’s understanding of Alicia by forcing her to shift between so many environments, and how the central problem of Amber Madison’s eagerness to spread lies is resolved as an issue between Alicia and Peter, not as a convoluted plot. But I won’t, because I think the example of that first scene (which you really should rewatch!) illustrates my point: the writing for Maia lacks this nuance. The writing for Maia is mostly about plot. The writing for Alicia used plot to develop the character.

Lucca waits for Colin in the bar near the courthouse. She’s already ordered a burger and cut it in half for him. What’s their ship thing going to be? Burger and Fries? Onions and Peppers? (Note: this is not a serious question.)

Colin thinks Lucca’s there to flirt, but she’s there for work. But they don’t get to work before Colin invites her on a date to get milkshakes. Something about his therapist. This is cute, but not really anything I need to get into in-depth.

Lucca asks Colin about the subpoena; he says he’ll look into it.

Marissa made a breakthrough in the Twitterbot fiasco. She contacted Twitter and they froze it right away, which is definitely how Twitter deals with harassment. (I actually don’t know if this is realistic, but I’ve seen so much about how ineffective Twitter is at suspending trolls that this seems too fast, even though it also seems totally logical.) (But won’t the bot remake itself?)

Maia and Marissa high five, adorably.

Case stuff happens. This case is interesting.

Alma Hoff is back! So is just Stanek, who is still collecting electronics in a trash can.

Yesha gets a news alert from Chumhum about Maia being fired. She phones Maia to ask if it’s true. The news source is obviously fake, but I can’t tell if it’s Fake News or Real News For These Characters But Fake Because Copyright Laws.

Maia asks Adrian if she’s being fired. “I barely even know who you are,” Adrian replies, shooing her away. Heh. Wouldn’t Maia know it’s a lie from the fact that she didn’t call her workplace anti-gay?

Now there’s a story about Maia buying $350,000 in jewelry. Ah, it’s one of those sites. The ones that generate ridiculous stories about famous people that have no connection to the truth at all.

Now a Grand Jury is in session, and I think this insert of “GRAND JURY IN SESSION” is lifted from a TGW ep, probably 314 or something from season 7.

Diane is on the stand; Kresteva is questioning her. He starts off by framing her answers as uncooperative, and then begins to flat out lie. “What could be wrong with my motives?” he asks. LOL. I CAN’T THINK OF ANYTHING. (Even if it weren’t Kresteva specifically… there are still a lot of good reasons to be suspicious!)

“I think you tend to lie,” Diane responds. Kresteva goes after her about the money the firm makes off of the police brutality cases. It’s 30% of the firm’s annual income. Well that’s a cynical suggestion.

Kresteva asks Diane if she said that the problem was that “the people of Cook County hated African-Americans.” Wait, I thought she refused to answer in his version of events? Also, what does he mean by the People of Cook County? Does he mean in the legal sense (The People vs. ___) or does he mean that Diane said that Cook County residents are racists? What narrative is he trying to spin—that Diane was uncooperative, that Diane wants police brutality to continue so she can profit, or that Diane made sweeping accusations of racism? All of the above? Does it matter? Is the point to scare the firm away from these cases or to actually accomplish something with the Grand Jury? (I think it’s the former.)

Anyway, the real point of this scene is that KRESTEVA IS A LYING LIAR.

“Are you saying that my notes from our meeting are incorrect?” Kresteva asks. THIS GUY IS SO FULL OF BULLSHIT, I NEED TO WATCH THE GIF OF ALICIA TELLING HIM TO DIE CHOCKING ON HIS OWN BLOOD, PLEASE A FEW TIMES NOW. Kresteva is so full of shit that his lies don’t even make sense! His whole shtick rests on the hope that the grand jury finds him trustworthy! If they don’t, then why shouldn’t Diane suspect him? What should it matter that his “notes” don’t match what Diane’s saying? They’re his notes. He could’ve written them whenever he felt like it; he could’ve written down whatever he wanted! It’s not a video. It’s not an audio recording. It’s not a print-out of an email. The people who say “believe me” (or variations of that) the most are the ones to watch out for.

Kresteva’s lies, which seemed outrageous back in 2012, play differently in 2017, don’t they?

This scene is very hard to watch because of the emotional toll it takes on Diane as she realizes nothing she says or does will help her out of this hole. Kresteva will just make up more lies, and when he does let the truth through, he’ll spin it to make Diane look bad. Diane’s mistake about Jax seems malicious when he questions her. Her denial of the conversation reads as guilt. How could Kresteva have made up all of that information, the jury must wonder. Isn’t it more to this lady’s advantage to lie than it is to the head of the task force?

Diane says Kresteva was in her office for six minutes. I don’t get why she says this, since we saw the full meeting and it wasn’t six minutes, so…

Diane’s furious when she gets back to work. “He’s setting us up,” she announces to the others. Adrian understands why: Kresteva wants to reduce the number of police brutality cases by having fewer cases filed. I presume this means not just shutting down RBK’s cases, but also making other firms fear taking them on.

Lucca goes to Colin to investigate further. “Yeah, he lies,” Colin acknowledges. “Does your boss know that?” Lucca wonders. Good question. Colin agrees to help out, which is very nice of him. (So far, Colin feels a lot like a flirtier Finn Polmar to me.) Lucca says he seems like a good guy and reminds him they have a milkshake date. They can’t have sex yet because it would seem like a quid pro quo. “Fuck, I hate being a good guy,” Colin jokes as Lucca leaves.

Case stuff happens. I like Judge Stanek.

Colin does bring Kresteva’s methods up with the boss. The boss hears Kresteva’s strategy for how to reduce the amount of cases and doesn’t care about (agree with?) the ethics of it. Colin tries a different angle: the firm is all African-American; won’t that look bad? Kresteva argues it’s not all black because of Diane. LOL DIANE IS ONE PERSON. (And even if you include Maia and Marissa, that’s still a small fraction of the total employees.)

Colin must have pretty high standing/be pretty good at his job if he can bring this up at work. Kresteva gets a small warning, but he’s allowed to continue.

“It’s fake news,” Jay tells Maia. The original twitter monster has morphed into a lot of fake news all across the internet.

Yesha tries to stop it by getting a TRO against Bro, but he says it won’t work because his servers aren’t in Cook County. Yesha tells Maia there’s nothing more they can do. “Not legally,” Yesha repeats. Then she leaves, as Maia, Marissa, and Jay all think of illegal ways to stop Fake News.

Marissa has an idea—create fake news about Bro. Wouldn’t it be easier to just phone his boss? WHY ARE YOU GUYS USING YOUR WORK COMPUTERS TO CREATE FAKE NEWS WITH EXPLICIT CONTENT? WHY AREN’T YOU GUYS WORKING?! (Yes, this has gotten under my skin, why do you ask?)

Bro’s boss buys the fake news. Would that really happen? I can see him being fired because it looks bad, but being fired because your boss believed ILoveFakeNewsDotCom or whatever seems strange.

Case stuff happens.

Bro shows up at Maia’s office to announce, “You’re ruining my life.” HYPOCRITE. (Though, I do have a question: if the fake news is no longer spreading because of him, what is this accomplishing other than revenge?)

He calls her a bitch. Hell. No.

Luckily, Adrian intervenes and Bro calms down. “You drop your news articles and I’ll drop mine?” Bro says. So they are his news articles? What happens when someone else gets the same idea?

“At this firm, we stand up for each other, Maia,” Adrian tells Maia after she thanks him. Awwww. (So does that mean he’s cool with her doing all of this on the clock, using work computers, and pulling Marissa and Jay into it, too?)

YES!!! A break from the Diane/Barbara tension!!!!! This week, they’re drinking together after a rough day in court. Diane’s sad. Barbara, too.

“Do you regret not having children?” Barbara asks Diane. I can’t believe we got through seven seasons of TGW without Diane ever answering this question. That’s cool!

“Sometimes,” Diane responds honestly. “Not often.”

“When are the sometimes?” Barbara wonders. This feels a lot to me like Barbara trying to decide if she should try to have kids before it’s too late.

“With my husband. I mean, it’s too late for us now, but, uh, but I look at him and I wonder what, you know, what his son would be like. Or my daughter,” Diane explains, breaking my heart. (She and Kurt are totally going to reconcile, right?!)

“Yeah. It’s interesting,” Diane continues, unprompted. “Most people think I didn’t want kids, and that’s why I made my work my life. What they don’t realize, it’s… it’s really just the opposite.” I definitely assumed that Diane prioritized work over having kids. I’m not entirely sure what Diane means by “the opposite” but I think she’s saying that kids didn’t seem to be happening for her, so she had time to throw herself into work, and then it was too late. I wonder if Diane would’ve considered IVF if it had been more common when she was in her 30s/40s.

Diane and Barbara talk a little bit more, then Diane finishes her drink and goes back to her office. She phones Kurt. He doesn’t pick up (or does she hang up too quickly? I think it’s the former but compressed for time). I CAN’T WAIT FOR NEXT WEEK.

Then Diane has an epiphany: ENGLAND.

“We dialed 44 and then the number,” Barbara retorts when Alma asks how they called an agency in England. LULZ.

Case stuff happens; Laura wins! (Also, who knew Alma Hoff had a pottymouth?)

I barely talked about it, but this was a very complex and compelling case.

The Fake News hasn’t stopped. Shocker. Yesha has figured out that now Reddit is making fake news because people on the Internet also hate Maia.

Now Yesha and Marissa both advise Maia to drop it. So she does. But… Fake News has Real Consequences.

Someone brings the Fake News about Maia, which is now in the Cook County Vindicator which I thought was supposed to be a legit paper with actual reporters but whatever, to Kresteva’s attention. He’s looking for any ways to go after RBK, and this news article—real or fake—plays right into his story.

His white board of RBK targets consists exclusively of people we know (and excludes Reddick—who is Reddick, anyway? Is he still there?), including Amy. “Hired for SA ties?” reads a post-it next to Maia’s picture.

So… that’s what’s coming next. All the conspiracies come together! That means it’s time for ELSBETH TASCIONI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Seriously, Elsbeth is the one good thing about the unnecessary conspiracy plots The Good Shows like to do.)

[hoivanpimakxo-blog]

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Luke 7:11-16 J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS)

Jesus brings a dead youth back to life

11-13 Not long afterwards, Jesus went into a town called Nain, accompanied by his disciples and a large crowd. As they approached the city gate, it happened that some people were carrying out a dead man, the only son of his widowed mother. The usual crowd of fellow-townsmen was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.”

14 Then he walked up and put his hand on the bier while the bearers stood still. Then he said, “Young man, wake up!”

15-16 And the dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus handed him to his mother. Everybody present was awe-struck and they praised God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us and God has turned his face towards his people.”

This is one of the most moving accounts in the Gospels, if not the Bible. However, many would argue it is not true. Many people do not believe that miracles[1] are possible because they seem unreasonable. Others have a more philosophical perspective, following what is known as naturalism, which is a belief in a religious truth from the study of science and nature. Naturalism is a belief that all religious truth is derived from nature and natural causes, and not from revelation. Additionally, naturalism rejects all spiritual and supernatural explanations of the world and contends science is the sole basis of what can be known. Thomas W. Clark, from the Center for Naturalism makes just that point in an online website:

For a philosophical and scientific naturalist such as myself, the traditional Christian god is ruled out simply because the existence of the supernatural in general is ruled out. If you stick with science as your guide to what’s ultimately real, and critique your assumptions in open philosophical inquiry, there are no good reasons to believe that reality is split between two categorically different realms, the natural and the supernatural. Instead, science reveals that the world is of a piece, what we call the natural world. Disbelief in God, therefore, is a corollary of the rationally defensible claim that nature is all there is, the basis for the world-view known as naturalism.[2]

If naturalists are correct, we must scrap the Bible as the inspired, fully inerrant Word of God, and accept it as the Word of man alone. Why? According to Scripture, the Bible exists because of the supernatural and miracles. The Apostle Paul wrote, “All Scripture is inspired by God.” (2 Tim. 3:16) The Apostle Peter wrote, “Men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” (2 Pet. 1:21) Moreover, the Bible is filled with miracles from Genesis to Revelation. Therefore, to believe in the Bible as the written Word of God requires believing in miracles. In truth, the Christian faith hangs on the greatest miracle of them all, Jesus Christ’s resurrection.

Some Just Do Not Believe

The deeper we get into the scientific age, a two-fold effect has occurred: (1) many are abandoning Christianity because they feel it is irrational to believe in miracles; and (2) naturalists do not accept miracles, but the intricacy of creation has moved them to speak of design, which means creation had a designer. There are three reasons Scottish philosopher David Hume raised in his objection to miracles. First, “A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature.” Second, people are prone to accept the unusual and incredible, which excites agreeable passions of surprise and wonder. Those with strong religious beliefs are often prepared to give evidence they know is false, “with the best intentions in the world, for the sake of promoting so holy a cause.” Third, miracle stories tend to have their origins in “ignorant and barbarous nations.”[3] Let us investigate these three arguments, which are still used today.

Violation of the Laws of Nature

Certainly, a reasonable person would be moved by this statement because it seems logical on the surface. A miracle is an event that appears to be contrary to the laws of nature and surpasses all known human or natural powers and is regarded as supernatural, or an act of God.

Educated people today, in the era of such epoch scientific achievements, suggest we fully grasp the laws of nature. What may appear to be outside the laws of human nature may not be after all, and are certainly not outside the Creator’s laws. While we have always known the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height, a fourth dimension has been discussed. “In mathematics, four-dimensional space (“4D”) is an abstract concept derived by generalizing the rules of three-dimensional space. It has been studied by mathematicians and philosophers for over two centuries, both for its own interest and for the insights it offered into mathematics and related fields.”[4]

While in Hume’s day in the eighteenth century it might have been easy to accept miracles are outside the laws of nature, it is not so easily accepted by science today. If something seems to occur outside the laws of nature, we should not automatically assume it could not happen. When the naturalist scientist has made such strides, to the point of seeing design everywhere, but hesitating to see a designer, the concept of a Creator is ever closer to a scientific reality, as our knowledge of the natural world grows. God is outside the natural universe, and therefore, his powers far exceed anything we could imagine, as well as his being the engineer of the natural world.

Isaiah 40:13 American Standard Version (ASV)

13 Who has directed the Spirit of Jehovah, or being his counsellor has taught him?

Isaiah 40:15 American Standard Version (ASV)

15 Behold, the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are accounted as the small dust of the balance: Behold, he takes up the isles as a very little thing.

Fake Miracles Does Not Mean No Miracles

My goodness, the televangelist with their fake healing miracles has caused more damage to the integrity of the Christian faith than one can possibly know. These frauds of Christianity should not be the poster child, which is then used by Bible critics as evidence all Christianity is false. It is irrational to suggest fraudulent miracles equal no such thing as genuine miracles. Think of the hucksters in the nineteenth century who sold elixirs (cure-all) that would supposedly heal anything. Should we suggest there are no medicines, which can cure or relieve ailments, because scammers sold fake cure-all medicines? Hardly!

Miracles Only In Times of Ignorance

Certainly, no writer wishes to be arrogantly dogmatic about a belief because an understanding of Scripture could be overturned or adjusted before his eyes as he grows in knowledge and understanding. The evidence says miracles of tongues and healings, as well as resurrections, were given to some in the infant Christian congregation. Why? The objective was to establish it as the new way to God, to give witness to God’s mighty acts that include the ransom sacrifice of Christ, his resurrection and ascension, and to communicate rapidly to those who spoke other languages.

Did miracles happen after the first century? Yes. What about today? If we remain rational, we must realize God has not always intervened when we believed he should, nor is he obligated to do so. As was stated earlier, he has greater issues that need resolving, which have eternal effects for humankind. There are far more times when God does not step in, meaning our relief may come in the hope of a resurrection. However, for servants who apply his Word in a fully balanced manner, God is acting in their best interest by way of his inspired, inerrant Word. Nevertheless, God does step in and it would be disheartening to seek the tens of thousands of fraudulent cases, to find genuine miracles. Please see chapter 17 for a deeper examination of how much God miraculously steps into human events.

Is it possible to appease the critics who refuse to accept miracles are even possible? No. Not just because they are stubborn, but how do you explain what might actually be within the laws of nature, but is beyond our understanding? It is like a man time traveling from one thousand years ago to the twenty-first century, seeing all of our technology, and then going back. How could he get them to believe?

The Best Attested Miracle

Whether you wish to accept the reality of it or not, the resurrection of Jesus Christ has all of the evidence of being the greatest miracle of all time. Below is an overview of the account. For greater detail, read the cited texts in full in the ESV, NASB, HCSB, or the LEB.

The betrayer had given them a sign. He had said, “The one I kiss will be the man. Get hold of him and you can take him away without any trouble.” So he walked straight up to Jesus, cried, “Master!” and kissed him affectionately. And so they got hold of Jesus and held him. So they marched Jesus away to the high priest in whose presence all the chief priests and elders and scribes had assembled. The chief priests and the whole council were trying to find some evidence against Jesus, which would warrant the death penalty. The moment daylight came the chief priests called together a meeting of elders, scribes and members of the whole council, bound Jesus and took him off and handed him over to Pilate.

It was about 9 a.m. when they nailed him to the cross. At midday darkness spread over the whole countryside and lasted until 3 p.m., at which time Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus let out a great cry, and died. The curtain of the Temple sanctuary was split in two from top to the bottom. And when the centurion who stood in front of Jesus saw how he died, he said, “This man was certainly a son of God!” [Mark 14:43-65; 15:1-39 J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS)]

Because it was the day to prepare for the Passover, the Jews wanted to avoid the bodies being left on the crosses over the Sabbath (for that was a particularly important Sabbath. They requested Pilate to have the men’s legs broken and the bodies removed. So the soldiers broke the legs of the first man and of the other who was crucified with Jesus. But when they came to him, they saw that he was already dead and they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there was an outrush of blood and water. The man who saw this is our witness: his evidence is true.

Joseph, who came from Arimathaea and was a disciple of Jesus, though secretly for fear of the Jews, requested Pilate that he might take Jesus’ body, and Pilate gave him permission. He took his body down. Nicodemus, the man who had come to him at the beginning by night, also arrived bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about one hundred pounds. So they took his body and wound it with linen strips with the spices, according to the Jewish custom of preparing a body for burial. In the place where he was crucified, there was a garden containing a new tomb in which nobody had yet been laid. Because it was the preparation day and because the tomb was conveniently near, they laid Jesus in this tomb.

But on the first day of the week Mary of Magdala arrived at the tomb very early in the morning, while it was still dark, and noticed the stone had been taken away from the tomb. Peter and the other disciple set off at once for the tomb, the two of them running together. The other disciple ran faster than Peter and was the first to arrive at the tomb. He stooped and looked inside and noticed the linen cloths lying there but did not go in himself. Hard on his heels came Simon Peter and went straight into the tomb. He noticed the linen cloths were lying there, and the handkerchief, which had been round Jesus’s head, was not lying with the linen cloths but was rolled up by itself, a little way apart.

Mary stood just outside the tomb and she was crying. As she cried, she looked into the tomb and saw two angels in white who sat, one at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. “Why are you crying?” the angels asked. “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they have put him!” she said. Then she turned and noticed Jesus standing there, without realizing it was Jesus. “Why are you crying?” Jesus asked. “Who are you looking for?” Supposing he was the gardener, she said, “Oh, sir, if you have carried him away, please tell me where you have put him and I will take him away.”  Jesus said to her, “Mary!” At this she turned right round and said to him, in Hebrew, “Master!”

That evening, the disciples had met with the doors locked for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood right in the middle of them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he showed them his hands and his side, and when they saw the Lord the disciples were overjoyed. Jesus said to them again, “Yes, peace be with you! Just as the Father sent me, so I am now going to send you.”

But one of the twelve, Thomas (called the Twin), was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples kept telling him, “We have seen the Lord”, but he replied, “Unless I see in his own hands the mark of the nails, and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe!” Just over a week later, the disciples were indoors again and Thomas was with them. The doors were shut, but Jesus came and stood in the middle of them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your fingers here—look, here are my hands. Take my hand and put it in my side. You must not doubt, but believe.” “My Lord and my God!” cried Thomas. “Is it because you have seen me that you believe?” Jesus said to him. “Happy are those who have never seen me and yet have believed!” [John 19:31-20:29 J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS)]

If this were a fabrication, written decades later, why would they have such amounts of doubt embedded within the account? The apostles themselves refused to believe, until the proof mounted to such a point they had to accept the truth of the evidence. Also, if they were fabricating the storing in oral and written testimony, why would they have women be the first people that Jesus appeared to, as women could not be witnesses. Moreover, women were not treated as equals in that culture, so a fabricated story would have Jesus had Jesus appearing to the men first.

The Empty Tomb and the Report of the Guard

Matthew 28:11-13 English Standard Version (ESV)

11 While they were going, behold, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests all that had taken place.12 And when they had assembled with the elders and taken counsel, they gave a sufficient sum of money to the soldiers 13 and said, “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’

A stone was rolled in front of the tomb; guards were placed to protect it from exactly what happened, an empty tomb. When the apostles were traveling and speaking about the death, resurrection and ascension, not one Jewish leader challenged the fact the tomb was empty and Jesus was missing, even though they had assigned a guard to prevent this from happening. Rather, those leaders had bribed the guards into lying, “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’” (Matt. 28:13)

About a hundred years after Jesus’ death, in a second-century Christian apologetic text, Justin Martyr wrote a work called Dialogue With Trypho. In this, he said: “You [the Jews] have sent chosen and ordained men throughout all the world to proclaim that a godless and lawless heresy had sprung from one Jesus, a Galilæan deceiver, whom we crucified, but his disciples stole him by night from the tomb, where he was laid.”[5]

Most scholars believe that Trypho, a Jew was a fictitious character that Justin cited as a literary device to have the reasoned conversation the Christians were/are the true people of God. Justin’s defended Christianity against Judaism. No Jew ever challenged or called Justin a liar, which they would have done had it not been true they bribed the guards and lied about the disciples stealing the body. Therefore, the tomb was empty.

Luke the Physician

Colossians 4:14 English Standard Version (ESV)

14 Luke the beloved physician greets you, as does Demas.

Luke 1:1-3

1 Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile an account of the things accomplished among us, 2 just as they were handed down to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, 3 it seemed fitting for me as well, having investigated everything carefully from the beginning, to write it out for you in consecutive order, most excellent Theophilus;

Luke wrote both the Gospel of Luke, and the book of Acts. When he says he investigated everything carefully, this is no idle statement. “Sir William Ramsay, an atheist and the son of atheists, tried to disprove the Bible. He was a wealthy person who graduated from the prestigious University of Oxford. Like Albright, Ramsay studied under the famous liberal German historical school in the mid-nineteenth century. Esteemed for its scholarship, this school also taught that the New Testament was not a historical document. As an anti-Semitic move, this would totally eradicate the Nation of Israel from history.”

“With this premise, Ramsay devoted his whole life to archaeology and determined that he would disprove the Bible.”

He set out for the Holy Land and decided to disprove the book of Acts. After 25 or more years (he had released book after book during this time), he was incredibly impressed by the accuracy of Luke in his writings finally declaring that ‘Luke is a historian of the first rank; not merely are his statements of fact trustworthy’ . . . ‘this author should be placed along with the very greatest of historians’ . . . ‘Luke’s history is unsurpassed in respect of its trustworthiness.’[6]

“Luke’s accuracy is demonstrated by the fact that he names key historical figures in the correct time sequence as well as correct titles to government officials in various areas: Thessalonica, politarchs; Ephesus, temple wardens; Cyprus, proconsul; and Malta, the first man of the island. The two books, the Gospel of Luke and book of Acts, which Luke has authored remain accurate documents of history. Ramsay stated, ‘This author [Luke] should be placed along with the very greatest of historians.”

“Finally, in one of his books Ramsay shocked the entire intellectual world by declaring himself to be a Christian. Numerous other archaeologists have had similar experiences. Having set out to show the Bible false, they themselves have been proven false and, as a consequence, have accepted Christ as Lord.”

“In an outstanding academic career, Ramsay was honored with doctorates from nine universities and eventually knighted for his contributions to modern scholarship. Several of his works on New Testament history are considered classics. When confronted with the evidence of years of travel and study, Sir William Ramsay learned what many others before him and since have been forced to acknowledge: When we objectively examine the evidence for the Bible’s accuracy and veracity, the only conclusion we can reach is that the Bible is true.”[7]

Now that we know Luke was not only a physician, but one of the greatest historians of his time, let us consider his account. Luke, after decades of investigations took him tens of thousands of miles by sea and land, comes to one conclusion; Jesus was resurrected from the dead. (Luke 24:1-52; Acts 1:3) Luke had reason to completely trust his evidence, because he traveled with the Apostle Paul who was one whom Jesus appeared to after his ascension to heaven, and who was an enemy of Christians at the time. Moreover, Luke was there when Paul performed a number of miracles. (Acts 14:8-10; 20:7-12; 28:8, 9)

Eyewitnesses to the Resurrected Jesus

Paul, an enemy of Christians, who had approved of the stoning of Stephen, and sought to arrest as many Christians as possible, wrote after the risen Jesus’ appearance to him,

1 Corinthians 15:3-8 English Standard Version (ESV)

3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, 4 that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, 5 and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. 7 Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8 Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.

The apostle Peter said and wrote,

Acts 2:23-24 English Standard Version (ESV)

23 this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. 24 God raised him up, losing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it.

1 Peter 1:3 English Standard Version (ESV)

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,

Many of those whom Luke and Paul speak of were alive when Paul penned his letter, and Luke wrote his books. Many were close friends of Jesus up unto his execution, and were there to see the soldier pierce Jesus’ side, seeing the blood and water flow out. They saw Jesus alive later, before his ascension. Everyone who spoke openly of what they saw subjected themselves to the wrath of the Jews, who had no problem executing Christians. Moreover, they could make the lives of these people intolerable, which they would be forced to endure, the rest of their lives. Why would one place themselves in such a situation, if they never saw Jesus?

Miracles Are a Reality

One of the great apologist of our time has penned a book that deals with the logic, reasonableness, evidence of Jesus resurrection. If you wish to cover this at length, read The Case for the Resurrection of Jesus by Habermas, Gary R. and Licona, Michael R. (Sept. 25, 2004). Since we know that Jesus’ resurrection is reality, we know that miracles are possible. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead:

Brought about an earth-wide global deluge where one family survived on an ark;

Split the Red Sea so hundreds of thousands could walk through;

Enabled Elijah and Elisha resurrecting people from the dead;

Enabled Jesus to resurrect numerous people;

Enabled Peter and John to resurrect and heal;

Enabled Paul to resurrect and heal; and

Enabled first century Christians to speak languages they never learned, to bring about a larger, faster evangelism, and far more!

  [1]A miracles is an event that appears to be contrary to the laws of nature, and surpasses all know human or natural powers, and is regarded as supernatural, an act of God.

[2]http://www.naturalism.org/Toogoodtobetrue.htm

[3]Hume, An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding X, i, 86

[4]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four-dimensional_space

[5]Dialogue With Trypho, by Justin Martyr, chap. CVIII (published in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. 1, p. 253).

[6]The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament, by Sir W. M. Ramsay, 1915, p. 222.

[7] http://christiantrumpetsounding.com/Archaeology/Archaeology%20Bklt/Archaeology%20Verifies%20Bible%20Ch2.htm

Did the Miracles in the Bible Really Happen? Luke 7:11-16 J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS) Jesus brings a dead youth back to life 11-13