Close your eyes. Imagine a summer evening in Paris, the city of love. Imagine attending the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games, a spectacle in which art and beauty merge in a timeless embrace to promote the values of sport, fair competition, mutual respect. Perceive the harmony of creation personified in the sculptural bodies of athletes, capable of extraordinary performances, archetypes of the deeds that man can accomplish when mind and body are disciplined and aimed at achieving the optimum. Then, with the mind’s eye, fix on the Olympic flame, which burns for the entire duration of the games, earthly representation of the inextinguishable divine fire infused in man. Feel it fuel your vital energy.
Beautiful, right?
Now, open your eyes and return to the reality that has been placed before you: you are in Paris, at the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games. While unsuspecting you are ferried on the Seine by a faceless character, before your eyes scroll dystopian images of severed heads, splashes of blood and columns of flames that color Versailles red. Then a dark figure galloping, hints of orgies, drag queens performing in adult outdoor local style and who, at the acme of the obscene, arrange themselves neatly behind a table to mock the Last Supper and make fun of Christ, Christian theology and you, obstinate in denying this outrage.
You fell for it completely.
I watched you don the robes of lawyers expert in art and Greek mythology to defend the indefensible and argue that no, that was not a parody of the Last Supper, but a reference to that joker Dionysus and the other pagan deities worshiped in ancient Greece, where the Olympics were born.
Oh yes, I’m sorry to cut your forensic career short at birth, but you fell for it with the whole toga.
That scene was and has been conceived as a mockery of the Last Supper. If only you would open your eyes a little more, you would clearly see that the main objective of today’s entertainment, from music to cinema, is to demean Jesus Christ, with double meanings, with hints, with hidden symbols. And it is obvious that whoever conceived the Olympic Ceremony could not explicitly show the world his real intent, and for this reason, he disguised it.
Then, to better mask the lie broadcast worldwide, the predictable statements from Thomas Jolly, artistic director of this monstrosity, intervened, who justified himself by saying he didn’t want to make fun of anyone. Poor thing: he hadn’t realized that that representation would recall Leonardo’s Last Supper and potentially offend Christians around the world, right? In these months and months of rehearsals in which everything was calculated in detail and nothing was left to chance, he really – believe him – did not want absolutely to mock any religion. We are really bad-minded meanies.
Too bad though that the central figure of the merry gathering, Barbara Butch, the one with the halo on her head to be clear, posted on her social media a photo that compared Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper with a shot of the scene just aired commenting on it with an “Oh yes! Oh yes! The New Gay Testament”, tagging all the other participants in the “rite”. But imagine that coincidence: the artist fell into error and hadn’t understood what she was representing. Incredible how certain details can escape the protagonists of a show, right?
But everyone swallowing the Dionysus hoax. Everyone publishing, almost resentfully as if it were their mother being accused, proofs, evidence and clues as if they didn’t know that whoever deceives does not do it openly. He does it insidiously, he does it cowardly. Just as they did in Paris, before our eyes.
In fact, the problem in itself is not even the Last Supper scenography, which many, many times has been openly the object of mockery, without the thing being pointed out as an abomination. The real problem is – precisely – the deception. Because it is with deception that they try to insidiously enter our minds and indoctrinate us.
It is with the deception of the “Feast of the Gods” that they desecrated the Eucharist, using an improbable blue Bacchus, who, in a ritualistic way, is served as a meal while, among other things, singing a song in which he dreams of a world where we are all naked.
It is with the deception of inclusive love that they showed us images of three boys flirting in a bookstore and running happily towards the freedom of a ménage à trois, after exchanging books on unbridled passion, including “Le Diable au Corps”, a novel in which the sexual experiences of an underage boy are narrated.
It is with the deception of the exhibition of the taurine work of art (which has existed since 1937 and blah, blah, blah) that they made us witness the veneration of the idol, skillfully positioned at the main point of the stage.
It is with the deception of tolerance that they forced us to watch a lascivious show, without us having consciously wanted to prevent our children from seeing content inappropriate for their age.
And then for me you can be what you want and love who you want. You can dress as you like. You can change your mind. You have the right to transform your body if you feel it doesn’t respect your sexuality. But the expression of your freedom must not force me to suffer an imposition. And instead, between the lines of a story divided into chapters including precisely Liberté, our freedom has been surreptitiously violated. With deception, precisely.
And so, in the name of political correctness, they are slowly corroding our freedom and they are transforming us into individuals devoid of any identity: sexual, religious, ethnic, cultural, historical, national, anthropologically neutral people easily brainwashed and controllable, as they lack points of reference. But by now there is an unwritten rule to which we all must submit: any doctrine, if propagated under the aegis of woke ideology, is good and right and you must not dissent, otherwise you are prudish, homophobic, racist, insensitive to social inequalities and also a bit of an asshole.
So – in light of this inclusive censorship – I won’t say that the presence of that little girl among the champions of free love for me was only and exclusively pedo-inclusion. That inducing her to move with gestures not suitable for her age was indecent. And that the gesture of cutting off the head by one of the dancers, who looks at her ambiguously, was not accidental but was the apotheosis of perversion (and of occult rituality…). Obscurité is therefore the best name for this horrendous chapter.
After all, by now the hypersexualization of children and their indoctrination to absolute fluidity is a reality, as confirmed by courses on the subject held by drag queens in schools around the world, cartoons full of subliminal messages and the growing presence on social media of ambiguous characters whose target is precisely the youngest. And Paris couldn’t be any less. Indeed it went further: it invited Celine Dion. The very one who launched a gender-neutral clothing line for infants and children called Celinununu.
In her commercial, worthy of a horror film, our unsuspecting protagonist sneaks into a hospital at night and furtively heads towards the maternity ward divided into two sections, blue for boys and pink for girls. With the background of a tender lullaby and her sweet voice reminding us that “our children are not really ours” and that therefore they must be free to choose what they want to be, she begins to scatter black confetti taken from her suitcase canceling the colors and standardizing the clothing of all newborns, among which one stands out with a black onesie with written on it: New Order. Well, clearer than this?
But – there is a but – if you dare to mention the name of Jesus you are out. Because the Olympic Charter prohibits any form of demonstration or religious, political or racial propaganda. And in the name of this mandatory neutrality, Brazilian athlete João Chianca had to remove from his surfboards the image of Christ the Redeemer, under penalty of exclusion from the competition.
So, let’s review for a moment if everything complies with the strict regulations of the Olympics: gender-neutrality indoctrination propaganda: yes. Content inappropriate for minors: okay. Blasphemy: can be done. Hints of pedophilia: very good. Occult symbolism: obvious. References to Christ: no; but of course not! We have strict rules here: We must protect the fluid right of everyone to be fluidly everything they want. Everything yes, except Christians. There is no room for Jesus here! And I’m not surprised: the light in the darkness was not welcomed…
The truth is that under the veil of what appears, a spiritual battle is underway. But not everyone sees it.
So, I tell you what I saw: I saw the rituality of a black mass skillfully concealed. I saw the horseman of the Apocalypse riding at the head of all peoples, heading towards the image of the beast, to which the ceremony was consecrated, so that all nations may worship it, under the watchful eye of the adversary, “liar and father of lies”. And I saw his eyes right there, under the Eiffel Tower.
But in your dark and deceptive tale, you forgot the final chapter: Vérité. “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world”.
The Olympic flame burns eternally.
Rona
♥
“I am the way, the truth, and the life”
