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Quote by Tim Mack, Ph.D.

“BOOK EXCERPT Did Jesus actually die on the cross? The Roman soldiers were responsible for ensuring that all three crucified prisoners were dead. That was their job. The Roman army had brutal discipline for soldiers who didn't do their job correctly. For example, falling asleep on guard duty was punishable by death. Other corporal punishments included being beaten or having their clothes set on fire. The soldiers would have broken his legs if there was any possibility that Jesus was alive. They didn't. There wasn't anyone there who cried out, "He's still alive!" The Jewish rabbis in attendance wanted him to die. They would have said something if Jesus was still alive. After all, they wanted to guarantee that he died. I don't know how anyone could have survived being beaten, scourged, had a crown of thorns forced onto one's head, crucified, and then stabbed in either the lungs or the heart with a spear. The scourging alone would have been deadly. Jesus' dead body remained on the cross for a short while. Still, it would have been long enough for blood to accumulate in his lower extremities and for his body to cool. His lower extremities also would have turned bluish. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus retrieved the body and would have noticed at once if Jesus weren't dead. His body would have been warm, and his extremities would not have been distended and bluish. Joseph and Nicodemus didn't notice that, though, because they would have stopped preparing his body for burial if they did.”

Quote by Tim Mack, Ph.D.

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Tim Mack, Ph.D.

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“What will you do, my lady?' Moonlight kissed the apple of his cheekbone as he tilted his head once more. 'You have no shadowstone dagger to threaten me with.' 'I don't need a dagger,' I said, my voice thready. 'And I'm not a lady.' His head straightened. 'No, I imagine not, considering you're nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man, whose lip you bit upon meeting, and have seen the bare backs of many sailors. I was only being polite.' My lip curled at the presumed insult. I knew I should let it go. Keep my mouth shut, but I didn't. I hadn't in three years, and my inability to do so had grown and festered into an incurable disease. The kind that provoked further, dangerous recklessness. 'What I am is a Princess who is nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man and has seen the bare backs of men,' I told him, speaking the forbidden. 'And you, with each passing moment, are getting closer to no longer having the ability to see anyone's unmentionable places ever again.”

“I'm still not afraid of you,' I replied, briefly glancing down. There was only a minor bit of relief when I saw several pale strands of hair plastered to my chest. They didn't hide nearly enough, but it was better than nothing. 'Well, I'm a little afraid of you,' he said, and he was somehow closer without seeming to have moved. He wasn't even a foot from me now, and an icy heat radiated from him, pressing against my flesh. His closeness heightened the sensitivity of every inch of skin. 'You want to claw my eyes out.”

“I sat back, crossing my arms. 'Why are you even here? You could've left once you realised I was okay.' 'I could've left, but like I said before, it would be incredibly rude to leave someone unconscious on the ground,' he returned. 'Well, aren't I lucky that you're a polite pervert?' Ash laughed, low and smoky. 'Why haven't you left, liessa?”

“I'm not sure why I'm still here talking to you.' 'Perhaps you feel indebted to me since I watched over you while you were unconscious.' 'I was unconscious for a few moments. It's not like you stood guard for endless hours.' 'I am quite important. Those moments felt like hours.' 'I do not like you,' I said. He eyes shifted to mine, and that curve of his lips remained. 'But you see, you do. That's why you're still here and no longer threatening to claw my eyes out.' I snapped my mouth shut. Ash winked. 'The clawing of the eyes could still happen,' I warned him. 'I don't think so.' He bit down on that lower lip of his again, the act snagging my gaze once more. 'Besides the fact that you know you won't succeed, you said I was beautiful, and clawing my eyes out would ruin that, wouldn't it?”

“...humor is, in fact, a Filipino national weapon---one that is utilized not only to reflect social foibles and cultural beliefs that allow Filipinos to find belonging in using humor as a response to crippling national horrors, but one that is used to train an apparently disparaging look at themselves as victims of embarrassing and painful historical, political, or cultural circumstances. We see in these texts that the laughter that resonates in the Filipino is more than just an acceptable national trait that underscores the fixed Filipino stereotype of cheerfulness and pleasantness.”