Yesterday I wrote of a “New Great Awakening,” an awakening of the fast swath of forgotten men and women to the realities of the progressive Left’s destructive ideology. Blogger photog at Orion’s Cold Fire inspired the post with his piece “The Great Awakening,” which brought to mind a key point about our national debates: our concerns are primarily theological, not political, in nature.
I’ve written quite a bit about Americans’ desperate search for meaning (also here), for a deeper spiritual Truth that motivates our culture and our lives. Increasingly, Americans are abandoning traditional Christian faith, embracing instead alternative forms of spirituality, from the mundane and trite —“living your best life”—to sinister, like witchcraft.
It’s no surprise, then, that the dark horse—or, perhaps, the black cat—candidate in the Democratic presidential primaries is self-help guru and author Marianne Williamson. Williamson made waves during the first set of debates with her “Love is a Battlefield” pronouncement, and has become something of an Internet meme.
Williamson’s mystical New Age rhetoric continued at last night’s debate, in which she proclaimed a dark, psychic battle underway in America, with President Trump leading the wicked forces of racism. She’s also written a prayer of apology from white people to black people, probably the purest example of John Derbyshire’s thesis that the “Cold Civil War” is not between whites and minorities, but between goodwhites and badwhites (the goodwhites being the ones desperate to signal their own virtue to minorities—and each other).
Milo Yiannopoulos—a spirit animal of the Dissident Right—offered up some typically prescient insights re: Williamson’s debate performance (which handily won the Drudge Report post-debate poll). Here is his analysis (in case the embed feature doesn’t work properly, here is a direct link):
And copy-pasted for your convenience:
If the stars align correctly—and Marianne would know more about that than anyone!—Trump might lose to her.
I can see women rallying behind her—even with, and perhaps especially thanks to, the magic/witch vibe. She’s easily woke/pandering enough for the black vote, she’s got the “aunt who never judged you” thing going on for the homos, lesbians will want to snuggle up with her and she will be fine on the border.
In a way, it’s hers to lose.
Now, Milo is assuming that Williamson walks away with the nomination, but crazier things have happened. Very few commentators (including myself!) thought that Trump would win the Republican primary. I remember the snickering and the jokes vividly, as well as the assumption—which I heard vocalized aloud at least once—that he would “be out of the running by Labor Day .”
Just as Trump tapped into Internet culture, memes, fun-loving online communities, and a greater sense that our nation had lost its way, Williamson possesses that same keen sense of meme-savviness. I was shocked to learn that she is sixty-seven-years old. She is nearly seventy, but looks like a MILF (pardon the expression) in her early fifties.
In many ways, she’s the shadow Trump. Where he’s masculine, brash, and a brawler, she’s feminine, feel-good, and wants to fight with “love.” The pair offer a symbolic contrast, almost like living embodiments of their respective sides of the political divide: realism versus idealism, conservatism versus progressivism, nationalism versus multiculturalism, tradition versus novelty.
Of course, Williamson is a far-Left progressive, no matter how attractively packaged. She supports Medicare for All, open borders, and all the rest of the Leftist’s destructive agenda. And just like witchcraft and New Age spirituality, she’s selling empty promises, chaos, and destruction, all masked in a warm, feel-good glow.
It’s the hug that strangles. The box wine aunties, as Z Man calls them, have found their representative. May God have mercy on our souls if they and their cats get Marianne Williamson elected President.