Religion professor Bradley Onishi, host of the "Spirit and Power" podcast, pointed out to Salon that there is "a long history of the evangelical subculture and the conservative Christian subcultures wanting to find mainstream legitimacy" by grabbing onto any celebrities they can claim are one of them. In the 90s and early 2000s, Onishi noted, evangelicals hyped everyone from U2 and Creed to Jessica Simpson and Katy Perry as "crossover Christian figures" who could sell the larger world on the idea that Christianity is hip and cool.

Brand, however, represents a disturbing twist to this saga: the willingness, in the era of Donald Trump, of right-wing Christians to scrape the absolute bottom of the barrel to get this validation.

Christian nationalism marches us closer to theocracy.

Common in evangelical theology is the concept of spiritual warfare: the idea that Satan and/or other demons are ever-present entities seeking to corrupt and destroy humans—especially the faithful. To resist succumbing to these forces requires constant vigilance and protection through prayer and strict adherence to the evangelical interpretation of biblical teachings. In this worldview, demonic possession or influence mirrors the evangelical concept of ideological corruption; both presume human weakness and vulnerability to external forces that can only be resisted through complete avoidance and submission to religious authority. Just as corrupting forces can enter through seemingly innocuous sources, such as reading, music, or even yoga, dangerous ideas can infiltrate through educational, political, and cultural discourse.

Social media right now is an ocean of would-be propaganda for traditional heterosexual marriage. There are "tradwives," who cosplay submissive housewives on platforms like TikTok and Instagram. They overlap with "family vloggers," typically conservative Christians with large families who chronicle their daily lives online. The world of Christian right content online is far more interested in the maintenance and promotion of the patriarchal nuclear family than, say, the life of Jesus Christ, who died as one of those "childless cat ladies" Vance hates so much. Billionaire Peter Thiel has even funded a woman's magazine, meant to compete with Vogue or Cosmopolitan, that positions extremely conservative marriage as the only true path for women's lives.

Personally, I thought this was a no-brainer. Living a life of submission and duty to someone who can treat you as property while calling it "love" is a very niche fetish, and certainly not going to be anywhere close to the utopia conservative Christians claim it should be.

But hey, don't take my word for it. Don't take the word of sociologists and psychologists who study the matter. Certainly don't listen to feminists who have their own opinions on a woman's proper role in society.

Listen to the women who lived it.

In 2017, Rod of Iron Ministries splintered from the Unification Church, a Korean cult founded by Sean Moon’s father, Sun Myung Moon. Adherents are called Moonies and believe that Sun Myung Moon is the messiah. Two of Sun Myung Moon’s sons, Sean and Kook-jin, or Justin, founded Rod of Iron Ministries. The church has many of the same core beliefs as the Unification Church—but it claims that AR-15s are the “rod of iron” that Jesus wields in the Book of Revelation. Perhaps not coincidentally, Justin Moon founded Kahr Arms, a firearms manufacturer that produces a commemorative Donald Trump AR-15.

From a former pastor who knows what the insiders talk about: a warning we would be foolish to ignore.

Sick and tired of all the political content in forums like this? The authoritarians and theocrats are hoping you won't pay attention to how they're organizing to steal the next election.

For the first time since people started looking at demographics, more young women are leaving churches than young men. Naturally, the people most responsible for this trend have no idea what to make of it.

Since the advent of the Trump era, the evangelical landscape has undergone rapid shifts, often in turbulent and dangerous directions. To be sure, there are still plenty of evangelical premillennialists out there faithfully waiting on the Rapture. But their sequestering, defensive posture is becoming outmoded. Remarkably, the most prominent and powerful new leaders—the ones dedicated to fully recentering evangelical politics on Donald Trump, and who have grown their power and influence through their association with him—are overwhelmingly anti-Rapture. They believe Christians have a more active and forceful role to play in the end of the world.