For Roth, it was Charles Lindbergh assuming the presidency of the United States. Perhaps that would have been shocking in 1940, though not likely. America has always teetered on the edge despite brief moments of respite. I grew up in one, explaining why my generation—X—seems so thrown off-kilter by current developments. Historically speaking, calm is an outlier.
Roth wouldn’t have been surprised by unfolding developments, as it checks all the right boxes: anti-Semitic, obviously; racist; misogynistic (thanks to the anti-vax portal of Pastel Q a stronger female representation exists, subsequently pissing off hardcore devotees); a privileged and/or (but mostly and) neurotic crowd unaccustomed to being asked to sacrifice. Wearing a mask and distancing is sound public health, not tyrannical manipulation, but if you’ve been checked out of politics for decades or a lifetime, telling the difference can prove challenging.
In 2017 Roth replied to an expectable question: Is Trump the embodiment of Lindbergh? His reply, as you would imagine, is perfect:
It is easier to comprehend the election of an imaginary President like Charles Lindbergh than an actual President like Donald Trump. Lindbergh, despite his Nazi sympathies and racist proclivities, was a great aviation hero who had displayed tremendous physical courage and aeronautical genius in crossing the Atlantic in 1927. He had character and he had substance and, along with Henry Ford, was, worldwide, the most famous American of his day. Trump is just a con artist. The relevant book about Trump’s American forebear is Herman Melville’s ‘The Confidence-Man,’ the darkly pessimistic, daringly inventive novel—Melville’s last—that could just as well have been called ‘The Art of the Scam.’
Who’s doing the scamming now? Tough to tell. But they’re out there.
Q isn’t going anywhere because Q isn’t anywhere to begin with. Their power has always been anonymity, an Everyman (to borrow again from Roth) you’re supposed to feel in yourself. Well, those selves likely to believe in Satanic pedophile rings and lizard people, I suppose.
The real danger is this persistent catchphrase: sovereignty. Nine months ago it’s sovereign immune systems; now, an alignment with the sovereign citizen’s movement, which is rooted in, of course, racism and anti-Semitism.
I’m approaching my 46th year and I’ll likely never understand this deep-rooted hatred of another person due to their ethnicity or religion. All those millions of years of evolution only to realize we haven’t come as far as we thought.
Just because I don’t understand it, though, doesn’t mean it’s not real, not a destructive force that must be pinned down at every turn. Too many people would rather escape to the fantasy of what should be rather than grapple with what is.
We don’t have time for that.
Here’s the thing: cults are forming right in front of our eyes. Used to be you’d hear about one, a friend brings you to a meeting, someone gets paid to chat up their guru in a vegetarian cafe. Members would never admit they're in a cult because it’s those other people that are the problem.
Now the indoctrination occurs on phones. New game, same process.
My fear about this unwell wellness cult—these cults; there are too many personalities to unite under one—is coming to life in the communes forming in Austin and Australia. I started tracking the Austin cult on election night and got to talk about that (and more) today in this exceptional deep dive into conspirituality on VICE News.
A few words about the conditions that created the cult.
“This is a community that generally was checked out of politics and always has been,” Beres said. “If you live a middle class or above life as a white person in America, you don’t really need to engage in politics.” Nor are they particularly well-equipped, as a community, to seek out good sources of information, he said, relying largely on their social media circles, which are all gripped by the same growing paranoia about oppression, tyranny, and social control.
“If you’ve never paid attention to politics and a virus comes through and all of a sudden there are these restrictions, you don't have the wherewithal to look at good news sources,” Beres said. “All you have is your social media sources. You turn to them and you spend more time on them because you can’t go out. All of a sudden you’re seeing this indoctrination process. It would’ve never taken hold without these conditions. It really was a perfect storm.”
But what are the consequences of that storm? Near the end of the article, I’m quoted again.
“A spiritual community,” he said, “gathered around a spiritual political idea is grounds for some sort of standoff.”
After publication, the reporter and I trade an email hoping that doesn’t come to pass.
We both know better because we’ve seen this all before. Everyone can access the historical record. Tragedies don’t emerge unprovoked. They simmer, boil, explode—the recipe is well documented. The only difference is we’re watching history in real-time.
And the one thing we can no longer afford to be is surprised.