There's a fine line between hilarity and horror, and that line was crossed and re-crossed when Republican representative Clay Higgins of Louisiana claimed that his wife had predictive powers:
I don't know what unauthorized foods are, unless Clay keeps kosher, which I doubt. He could also avoid having his knives seized if he stocks up on thirty or forty plastic knives to hide around the house and yard. What kind of survivalist nutjob is he, anyway?
I don't believe in precognition, perhaps because I became familiar with the work of the late, great James Randi early on. At any rate, there's no way that Mrs Higgins has the gift of premonition... after all, she married a thrice-divorced whackjob like Clay.
Post title taken from the classic essay on the usual fate of eschatological cults- perhaps the only sociology essay mentioned in a Blue Öyster Cult song.