Music Monday: Celine

Oh la la, Paris. The City of Light put on a dazzling, daring, downright cheeky show to open the Olympics. Like who else would proudly highlight a ménage à trois, decapitated aristocrats and drag runway models but France? In related news, American evangelicals continue to prove they’ve literally never read a single book (including and especially not the Bible) with their moronic outrage over the supposed Last Supper drag reenactment which was actually a tribute to the Greek God Dionysus.

Honestly, I blame NBC for not being better about describing the imagery in the ceremony. I mean, none of the hosts mentioned even once that the masked, nonbinary rooftop-running torchbearer was obviously from Assassin's Creed. And why the hell did they wait until the entire Minions segment was over, during which I confusedly wondered if I was hallucinating or had accidentally changed the channel, to tell us their animation studio was French? Context matters. How else can we exist within it?

Anyway, where was I? Oh right. The Olympics. Paris. And, of course, Celine Dion. It was the definition of a showstopper to have Celine close the ceremony with “Hymne A L'Amour.” Despite the devastating struggles with her health, she put on a performance for the ages. Like how many performers could outshine the Eiffel Tower? Thanks for the memories, Paris. Let’s go, athletes of the world. Happy Monday, kittens.