Paris, France

Source: Bigstock

Perhaps the most instructive faux pas during the controversial Olympics opening ceremony in Paris on 26 July was the moment when the South Korean team was incorrectly labeled as the North Korean team instead.

You can see how the confusion may have arisen. Not so long ago, we Western democracies mocked Pyongyang’s interminable public-theater displays of regimented, all-singing, all-dancing political conformity in their stadiums prior to sporting events as an unmistakable diagnostic sign of state-mandated ideological totalitarianism. Now we have the precise same thing ourselves, but ineptly disguised by placatory bromides like “diversity,” “tolerance,” and “inclusion.”

The retch-inducing marketing slogan for Paris 2024 is “Games Wide Open,” presumably coined to fit in with the E.U.’s corresponding motto for much of the past decade, “Borders Wide Open.” “Imagine there’s no countries,” caterwauled John Lennon during the seemingly endless partisan Parisian pantomime. Thanks to the E.U., there increasingly aren’t.

Sin for Your Supper
The opening ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, has been very eager indeed to conform to this hyper-liberal outlook: Why, you may almost say his entire job depended on it. An actor and theater director who, highly unusually for the contemporary arts world, has “explored LGBTQ+ themes in his stage work,” and doubtless outside of it too, Jolly has said there “is room for everyone in Paris,” and as such the ceremony could only be considered to have been a success “if everyone feels represented in it”—except right-wing Marine Le Pen voters, naturally, whom Jolly was on record as hoping to deliberately annoy and alienate as a “sort of resistance ceremony.”

By making “everyone” feel included, the organizers actually just meant certain specific favored minority groups, namely the current freaks du jour, les mal dans la tête transsexuals (warning: I can’t actually speak any French). As such, as you surely will have seen, Jolly decided to helpfully illustrate to the entire watching world that transgenderism really is a modern-day pseudo-religious cult by re-creating Leonardo da Vinci’s famous painting of the Last Supper with a bunch of extremely ugly-looking men in dresses mincing about beside the Seine.

Prime amongst them was a big fat Jesus played by a soi-disant DJ and “love activist” named Barbara Butch, who has since complained to French police of being subjected to “anti-grossophobic insults” online. Dressed in a glittery, crystal-strewn giant silver halo and some sort of swimming costume originally designed for Obelix, Barbara is an award-winning lesbian and prominent “fat acceptance” activist, who will be making a later appearance at the Games as one of the buoys in the triathlon swimming event.

Ms. Butch’s own version of the Sermon on the Mount reads thus: “My aim is to unite people, gather humans & share love through music for all of Us to dance & make our hearts beat at unison! Music sounds better with all of Us!” Blessed are the vomit-makers, for they shall inherit the earth, or at least the completely spiritually wrecked Western hemisphere of it. This is the new, blasphemous Queer Antichrist we are all now supposed to worship: a literal pagan Olympian god/goddess.

As U.S. female swimmer Riley Gaines, who has become something of a cause célèbre for protesting about such issues, put it online: “Men in wigs front & center at the Olympic Games. No one ever tell me this group is ‘oppressed’ or ‘marginalized’ ever again.” A once-oppressed minority has now become an oppressive minority instead. If these people really insist upon defacing classic works of art by forcibly making all their subjects trans, wouldn’t a better canvas to choose have been Salvador Dali’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus?

Gay Paree
After pretending to have been surprised by all the complaints they subsequently received from insignificant subhuman specks like Christians, Paris 2024 organizers put out a typical modern-day non-apology, carefully phrased so as to not truly be any kind of apology at all.

“Clearly, there was never an intention to show disrespect to any religious group,” they lied, and “We believe this ambition was achieved.” Not really. Allegedly, the parody was intended to demonstrate “the absurdity of violence between human beings,” yet it only made many viewers, from Donald Trump Jr. to Elon Musk, immediately wish to bring back the guillotine.

French president Emmanuel Macron crowed afterward that “This is France!” but, really, the whole grand spectacle de merde was the precise reverse: a display of smug, complacent globalist conformity from representatives of a fully deracinated transatlantic governing class who think their own specific tiny and aberrant portion of the West is the whole planet.

Marion Maréchal, the supposedly “Far-Right” (media code for “normal”) niece of the National Rally leader Marine Le Pen, proved otherwise, tweeting thus: “To all the Christians of the world who are watching the #Paris2024 ceremony and felt insulted by this drag queen parody of the Last Supper, know that it is not France that is speaking but a left-wing minority ready for any provocation. #notinmyname.”

Encore! Encore! Yet according to a less sane Western female political figure, Jill Biden, who led the U.S. delegation to Paris 2024 in her role as First Ladyboy, the whole thing was “spectacular” but would surely be outdone in its reputed “inclusivity” by the next Games, to be held in Los Angeles in 2028. At L.A. 2028, Jill promised, “the magic of Hollywood” would make sure that all “Olympians and fans will see themselves reflected in Los Angeles.” This being the same Hollywood magic factory that gave us Tootsie, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Ellen Page, no doubt.

Faster, Higher, Wronger
Some media outlets, like The New York Times, tried pushing the fake excuse that the whole tableau vivant wasn’t even depicting the Last Supper at all, on the grounds that there were seventeen trannies in attendance, which did not correspond with the feast’s actual unlucky thirteen attendees of Jesus and His Twelve Disciples.

Also, if it was a true Last Supper, said the NYT, there should have been more food spread out across the entire table for everyone to partake of, not just a single bowl of fruit in the middle. Maybe the participants had just stolen all the missing bananas and ritually shoved them up one another’s bums in honor of Baal before the cameras began to roll? The NYT would have been better off arguing that, if it really was a Last Supper, Big-Boned Barbara Butch would never have agreed to participate.

Another reason it allegedly wasn’t the Last Supper was because one of the mutants on display was a blue-painted semi-naked man who was supposed to be Dionysus, Greek god of wine, revelry, and HIV-AIDS. Justifying his part in the proceedings, the humanoid woad-slapper playing Dionysus, Philippe Katerine, argued that “It wouldn’t be fun if there were no controversy. Wouldn’t it be boring if everyone agreed on this planet?” Those persons currently living in the Gaza Strip may choose to respectfully argue otherwise.

From INRI to YMCA
And yet, surprisingly for something that definitely wasn’t the Last Supper, the arrangement’s official title in punning French was Scène de la Cène à Paris sur la Seine, or “The Scene of the Supper in Paris on the Seine.”

Paris hasn’t been so widely gaslit since the Belle Époque. According to the NYTs of this world, outraged Catholics and Protestants were just being hysterical crybaby snowflakes, triggered to tears and tantrums by absolutely nothing; there was no way mainstream, tolerant European politicians would ever stoop so low as to blaspheme Christ like this. Really?

Last year, there was an eerily similar controversy when the European Parliament Building ran an even more sacrilegious exhibition by lesbian Swedish “photographic artist” (re: woman with a camera and the basic ability to point it at things) Elisabeth Ohlson, featuring images of Jesus surrounded by deviant disciples dressed in leather-biker gay S&M bondage gear. Ecce Homo indeed.

The justification for this was highly similar to the justification for what just went on at Paris 2024: spreading inclusivity, tolerance, diversity, satanism, blah, blah, blah. It’s “just twelve pictures of Jesus loving the LGBT rights,” said Ohlson, adding that there were already “a lot of pictures of Jesus with heterosexual people,” so hers were just redressing the balance in the name of equality.

Interestingly, E.U. Parliament Building rules state clearly that any “cultural events and exhibitions” held there “shall not in any way…be offensive or of an inflammatory nature…or likely to give rise to disturbances in the designated exhibition areas.” This same rule had been persistently invoked previously whenever Christmas came around and the rather more harmless idea was raised of placing a Nativity scene in the foyer—something refused as “potentially offensive” to any visiting nonbelievers. It was not until 2022 that, following years of lobbying by a saintly Spanish MEP, permission was finally granted to give the wooden Christ-child a crib for a bed.

The Olympic Village People
But it wasn’t just shitty, tasteless photos of Jesus proudly loving His fellow biker boys that Elisabeth Ohlsen “daringly” displayed in Brussels in 2023. She also hung a 1998 photographic parody of none other than da Vinci’s The Last Supper showing a female Christ, dressed in white robe and high heels, and with a beard painted on her chin. Also sat around the supper table were various other tranny disciples, including a latex-clad stripper version of Judas, with punters’ dollar bills sticking out of his/her/its garters.

Unsurprisingly, many Christians were upset and objected, just as at Paris 2024. And yet, as per usual, the provocateur Ohlsen posed as the victim. “I am a lesbian Christian photographer who believes that Christ represents everyone [except Christians], including the sexual outcasts…. One of the accusations that led to His crucifixion was blasphemy, the same accusation that was brought against me.”

Ideologically interchangeable ruling-class clone-people like Ohlsen, Macron, Jolly, and all other such Julian the Apostates who now control what remains of our rotting culture clearly view Christianity as essentially a dead, toothless force, unable to resist being blatantly mocked in this way. Thus, they get to pose as “bold” by acting the very reverse; poking Christianity these days is about as “brave” as poking an empty beehive. As was often pointed out after the Paris 2024 opening, none of them would ever have dared criticize Islam in this way, lest they end up dead like the cartoonists of Charlie Hebdo.

And yet…proudly ignorant of their own cultural heritage as they are, these idiot iconoclasts appear clueless as to the fact that Jesus, or “Issa,” is actually a holy figure in Islam, too. In fact, when Ohlsen’s dismal porn pics were printed out by Snappy Snaps and displayed in Serbia in 2012, at the ironically named Center for Cultural Decontamination, not only Serbian Christians but also that nation’s Supreme Islamic Council, the Meshihat, called it a diabolical outrage.

Thanks to decades of borderless stupidity, no less than 10 percent of France is now Muslim. So come on, les Musulmans of Paris and Marseilles, march out of your banlieues and re-create a parodic Old Master canvas of your own with those responsible for 26 July’s outrage against Issa on the Seine. May I helpfully suggest either Caravaggio’s Salome With the Head of John the Baptist, or Gentileschi’s Judith Slaying Holofernes, perhaps?