Did we just witness the suicide of Wokery? I think you saw what’s called, in the argot of progressive thinking, the “queering” of the Olympics. That was some spectacle. First, Death on a Pale Horse came
galloping down the Seine River so that no one would miss the point of
the symbolism to follow: the beheaded Marie Antoinette portrayed singing
in the window of a flaming palais (revolution anyone?). . . . Then, a tableau vivant of DaVinci’s The Last Supper “queered”
to-the-max with a tattooed land-whale in the Jesus seat offering a
Satan hand-signal among the swaying drag queens, plus one child
ostentatiously in the mix (say, whu?). . . followed by a blue Dionysius
crooning about nudity (“Nu”) on a giant fruit platter, with his
ball-sack clearly on display among the cherries and nectarines. . . . It
rained. . .tant pis. . . . The power went out and Paris ceased to be the City of Light. Finis. . . .
Regards.
Russ