I think what I want to say about all the x-files stuff is this:
I don't know whether miracles happen or not. Not in the sense of Easter risings and Pentecostal fire-speak. Not the real, actual flaming bush variety, or the reshaping of ill-formed backs, sight restoration or bottomless bank accounts, through the intervention of BOGOF spirituality (buy the myth, get the prosperity chucked in free). Psychic ruptures and prophecies may happen or they may not. I don't want any of it any more.
Except love. Good old-fashioned, lower-case, transformative, selfless love.
Love and empirical science. Shared science. Observation. The real deal. If I can't make the case for love without intervention from super-reality, love's not enough of a miracle maker for me.
From here on in, hard reality's enough.