Call me Celestia

She could heal people. She spoke with the dead and with God, in a language only she and God understood. (Although we got a little taste of it, thanks to Barbara Walters’ prying.) She had an alternate personality named “Celestia” who lived “in the Fourth Dimension.” She was waiting for a spaceship from her home planet to bring her home. She had “the best sex of her life” with Ellen Degeneres, on the night they met, her first lesbian experience. She maintains she was molested continuously from infancy to age 12 at the hands of her closeted gay father, who died of AIDS in 1983. She was “insane” for 31 years. Then, suddenly, after wandering into a stranger’s home in Fresno while on Ecstasy last year, she was magically healed of all her mental and emotional problems. And voila, she marries the cameraman who filmed the documentary she made on then-lover Degeneres. Plus, now she’s pregnant!
Oh my sweet lord.
Translation: Her relationship with Degeneres was totally opportunistic. When it didn’t go the way she hoped, she was depressed and wandered off, high on Ecstasy. In order to explain her off-the-wall behavior and bring the spotlight back to her, we get the Celestia Defense. And far be it for me to question her abuse claims, but I’d love to know the statistics on how many closeted gay men sexually abuse their daughters. Anyway, he’s been dead for years and can’t speak for himself. (Nice B-roll footage of a gay disco, with writhing men in tank tops, when her father was mentioned. Classy.)
I guess I have nothing to criticize about this interview, considering that I watched it, taped it, and even made a video collage of it. But it’s this sort of thing that makes me think we should just nuke the whole society and start again. Anyone want to scope out bunkers with me?