This morning, I saw clips from the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games. The imagery was, let’s say, astonishing. It presented, among other things, a grotesque parody of Da Vinci’s Last Supper. In the place of Christ sat a stout woman with half-exposed breasts; one of the apostles was a homosexual man with testicles hanging out of a tight latex outfit; the rest of the apostles were replaced by transgender individuals and other figures who have surgically or otherwise rejected the task of being a man or a woman. Among this group, there was also a young girl – a sign of childlike innocence and purity.
