I’m Worried I’m Going to Join a Cult

Recap of ‘Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God’ Episode 1

You guys, I’m so worried I’m going to join a cult one day. This is Karyn, obviously, because Jen would never join a cult. We decided to recap the HBO doc Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God, and I keep flipping between “I’d join a cult” and “I’d never join a cult” while watching. (But most likely, I’d join a cult.)

First of all, everyone is talking about cults these days, so they’re clearly having a moment and I love a trend. Second, we’ve been through this — I’m gullible and give people the benefit of the doubt. And third, I enjoy doing mushrooms and they seem to be popular in cult land. I’m worried for myself, and I hope Jen will save me if I get in too deep. So let’s get into it, shall we?

Episode 1 opens with a police raid, which is never good for a cult. It means you’ve been doing something bad. The raid takes place in a little shack with Christmas lights everywhere. It’s like someone vomited Christmas lights. They’re on the walls, the ceiling, and probably in the toilet. I’m going to call it now and say that everyone is on drugs because the last time I hung Christmas lights in a room for decoration purposes, I was doing a lot of LSD. (I was also in high school.)

This feels like an excellent PSA for the parents of teenagers. If your kid suddenly hangs fairy lights, make them pee in a cup. (Or however the at-home drug tests work.) Also, this is Jen responding, but you probably already figured that out by my interjecting to narc on someone. Once on vacation in Hawaii in the 1980s, every teen boy who passed me whispered something about having pot for sale. Did I scream, “THAT MAN JUST TRIED TO SELL ME DRUGS!” each time? Oh, I think you guys know the answer to that.

The police say they need to check on “mother and child.” A man says, “The child is sleeping, and mother is in rest.” As they go from room to room, someone says mother never told them what would happen, just that she’d “come back into her body and be stronger.” The cops go into a bedroom and shine a flashlight onto a bed, and there, all wrapped up, is mother. She’s dead and mummified. It’s very Norman Bates.

A news reporter says “Mother God” is a woman named Amy Carlson. We see a pic of Amy before the cult got her and she’s very pretty.

This all took place in an isolated area of Colorado called Crestone, a place where “the veil is thin.” The “veil” is the line between the regular world and the spiritual realm. I know this because TikTok keeps suggesting “the veil is thin” videos to me and it’s all about people who get signs from people who have died. The reporter says “weird shit happens here,” and talks about rabbit holes and people appearing and disappearing. Remind me never to go to Colorado.

Even though I was loudly huffing about this being a bunch of horseshit within the first three minutes, I do believe in there being a veil and that it’s thinner in some spots. The only reason I believe this is because I once went to Chicen Itza in Mexico, the site of an ancient Mayan ruin and there were vibes. Heavy vibes. I’ve never felt anything like it.

We meet a bunch of cult members, and they all have nicknames too. There’s Uncle T, Hope, Aurora and El Moyra. Hope says Mother God was different than a “regular ego-programed-mind human” (like us). El Moyra says they always thought Mother God had three hearts, so it’ll be interesting to see what they find when they examine her body. Aside from being a little crazy, they seem like lovely people, which is why I’m worried. I’d totally fall for their spiel. (If I ever do, leave me be. I’ll be fine. I’ve lived a good life.)

This is a fraternity for gullible people and this is the point where I announced to Fletch, “I’m glad Mother God is dead.” I have zero cult tolerance. Here’s the thing—there are people in the world whose default answer is “yes.” And there are those of us who default to “no.” I default to no. Karyn defaults to yes, and that is part of her magic. Defaulting to yes isn’t intrinsically bad. Sometimes, people who get swept up into cults are just too happy and polite to figure out they’ve made a mistake until they get a matching track suit and a shaved head. Back in the 1990s, my friend tried to get me to join Landmark. The more she explained it, the more I said, “So it’s a cult,” and she would fight me about it. Years later, she was all, “Wow, that was a cult.” Uh-huh.

Some cult members get arrested, and the rest go to Vermont. In Vermont, it looks like they’re living in a camper. (Okay, I take it back. If I ever join a cult, please come get me because I don’t want to live in a camper.) There are a lot of flies, probably because they’re all living in a camper together. They all believe Amy was God, and no one believes they’re in a cult. Hope says, “What’s a cult? People not believing what’s mainstream? That God is a man you find in a church that wants money?” I see her point because this is unconscious bias about what God looks like. (Now I’m worried about myself again.)

I’ve always envisioned Santa in a toga.

Hope and Aurora explain that the current system of society is no longer working for people, that we’ve constructed a reality based on systems that are illusionary, and we have to exit the matrix. So these people are disillusioned with the world today, and somehow living by their own rules is a rejection of this society. See, I get this. It would be fun to do this.

Karyn, I will rescue you from a cult, but for the rest of your life, expect to hear, “Remember that time I had to rescue you from a cult?” Apologies in advance.

For some reason Mother God is connected to a bunch of celebrities.