Who do you trust? How do you know? By how they appear, or what they say, what they do? How? We all have secrets. We all tell lies, just to keep them from each other and from ourselves. But sometimes, rarely, something can happen that leaves you no choice but to reveal it; to let the world see who you really are, your secret self. But mostly we tell lies, we hide our secrets, from each other, from ourselves, and the easiest way to do this is to not even know that you are. So, when you think about it like that: it’s a wonder we trust anyone at all.

The Honourable Woman
Hugo Blick

The Good Wife understands power as both a more subtle and insidious force than series like The Sopranos or Breaking Bad do. On those much-beloved, much-acclaimed series, power corrupts grotesquely. On The Good Wife, it corrupts elegantly. The characters on The Good Wife are lawyers, not mob bosses or meth dealers, and while their behavior often skirts the unethical, it exists largely within the bounds of acceptable—or at least not easily actionable—behavior. On The Good Wife, flexible morals are not the hallmark of men living ultra-violent, grandiose lives: They belong to everyone. On The Good Wife the use and abuse of power is not so malignant that it destroys itself. It is so omnipresent that it can never be destroyed.

Apparently, I’ll Cut A Bitch

So, there’s this thing on Tumblr, where you take the Myers Briggs personality test and then look at a list of characters from movies/tv/literature who match your particularly personality type.

I’m an ISTJ: quiet and reserved individuals who value loyalty and dependability above all else. They would rather work with facts than speculation, and they will put a great deal of energy into reaching a goal - as long as it makes sense to them. They prefer to work alone, but can be good team players when the situation calls for it.

Here is a selection from the very illuminating list of ISTJ characters:

So, uh……

But Mysteries‘ real problem is its irritating, relentlessly hammered premise: that it’s not just challenging for Laura to be both a mother and a detective, but that it’s downright staggering, even absurd. Laura is not a mom and a cop and an alien, secretly preparing the planet for colonization by her species. She’s not a mom and a cop and a hundred tiny ducks wearing a Debra Messing costume, in order to pursue their collective dream of fighting crime and raising human children. As NPR critic Linda Holmes sang, it’s simply: ‘She’s a cop, she’s a mom.’ That’s the hook. It is the year 2014.