Former lounge singer turned Religious Guru, Marianne Williamson, floated into our Democratic Primary on a cloud of aromatherapy steam and chakra healing dreams, and then she floated right back out again. She has officially ended her bid for the Democratic nomination. We all wondered what the entire fuck she was even there for, yet we humored her passion for love and sly way of pulling off a mid-Atlantic accent in spite of her Texan birthplace. I will admit it right now, I didn’t take her seriously, not at all. I even tried to tell people to please shut the fuck up and stop trying to spread her bullshit, because it’s not fucking funny. Yet and still, y’all kept that shit up, especially the ADOS people.
When I first met Marianne (not met, but, saw), I knew I was probably never going to vote for her. I went to her Twitter account and “lo and behold!” I saw something on her page that simultaneously made zero sense, which caused me to want to slap the shit out of her, and also made me laugh and laugh until tears clouded my vision.
What the fuck are you talking about? Fuck it, i’m laughing again, thank you very much, you crazy lady. So, I watched her closely at that first debate, looking for some signs of woo and kook, and boy was I not one bit disappointed.
Woo. If I had to sum up Marianne Williamson in one word, that word would be Woo. Not to be confused with the delightful film starring Jada Pinkett, or the mating call of the North American sorority girl, the kind of woo Marianne manifests eats quinoa, brushes with Tom’s, and thinks the movie Avatar explains our governmental policies.
She wasn’t evil or trash, but she certainly wasn’t what I considered competent for the job.
She was “a lot” if you get my drift. A lot strange, a lot nice, a lot quirky, and a lot not ever going to be president. Sad.
She had some of the boldest positions on plans I have ever witnessed a politician taking, and that position is (PARAPHRASING, OKAY?) “Plans didn’t get us to the moon, sugah” and “Fuck your dumbass plans, stoopid. Trump didn’t have plans, he had MAGA.” Williamson, a known reparations supporter, wasn’t interested in repaying Trump on the hate debt he’s owed, instead her kick is that she’s going to love that Tangerine Nero we call a President right on out of office.
I wasn’t in any way, shape or form worried about Marianne, not at all. Then, one evening, I was on Twitter, as usual, getting trolled and trolled and it was about Marianne. Um? what the entire fuck was going the fuck on? Was I hearing tales about big names like Bette Midler donating to her campaign? Hey! No. This is not to say I didn’t like the “A Course In Miracles” inspired philanthropist, I am positive I would love her on a personal level, even more so if I believed in God, but fuck me, this was The Presidency.
Let’s take a look at what I said in August:
It’s time to have a little chit chat about Marianne Williamson, aka “Chakra Khan,” the mid-Atlantic accented Texas native, who once worked as a singer in some cocktail lounge in 1930s Atlantic City, or 1980s Los Angeles. Marianne Williamson is no longer merely the “Queen of the Moon People” after Tuesday night’s debate, she is now queen of the post-debate Google search too. Know what else she’s queen of? She is also the “Queen of people who like to fall for shit because someone said something they found super meaningful but it wasn’t.” This is clearly very stupid, and I don’t like it. Guess who DOES like it?
Yeah, I was super annoyed, and looking back, maybe I was just a little hard on the lady, especially considering I hadn’t even gone very hard at Bernie, and he deserved it way more. But, it wasn’t just her weirdo love inspired politics that fucked me up, it was the fact that people on both sides of the aisle were having a “Marianne Moment” at the time, and I was completely disgusted.
Are you fucking kidding me with this shit? This was the night she was up there talking crazy about some “dark psychic force” and I wanted to dark psychic force her ass to have a million seats. Fuck outta here!
Yeah. She DID say that shit and you forgot all about it.
This is the Moment when Marianne Williamson became Willy Wonka, the Entire Earth became her very own chocolate factory, and Democrats became the naughty children who would soon be subjected to sinister happenings as the monsters began leaking into our world from the Upside Down. Or something.
Let me state for the record that she made that one good point, though melodramatic as fuck. She’s a religious guru. In her “ministry” as in most occupations dealing with the metaphysical, supernatural, or deity-based needs of humans, she has learned how to use words like precision instruments. Because magic isn’t real, she really has had no choice but to develop her gift of gab, along with an ability to read a crowd. But never forget that she is off her rocker. That’s extremely important.
For a cool two weeks this Summer I sat sour-faced watching people I actually respected at the time talking about Marianne like she might could maybe become President, and no, I will not ever get over it or take those people seriously again. Nevertheless, I dubbed her Queen of the Moon people rather quickly, and hoped she would hear about it and maybe hurry back to the moon to take care of her people. DID NOT WORK. It was fine, though. Because you know what else did not work? Marianne’s attempts to make it back on the debate stage! Looking back, I can see that Williamson was harmed by the new debate rules, and it’s kind of sad to know that other candidates, even super qualified candidates, that don’t have a large donor list, or a huge war chest have almost zero chance of making it far enough in the Dem primary to succeed.
Regardless, although she had great things to say on Reparations, smelled like Vanilla Fields (I made that up), and was all about The Love, Marianne wasn’t it, y’all.