In France, ‘vive la différence’ is no more

France, the land of romance and the birthplace of the phrase “vive la différence,” which celebrates as something wonderful the differences between men and women, the so-called transgender activists are making headway, just as they are in the rest of the West. The latest institution to collapse is the Miss France pageant which was forced to admit Andrea Furet, a man, into the competition.

From the Washington Examiner:

The Miss Ile-de-France Committee announced Thursday that Andrea Furet, a transgender woman, will be one of the contestants competing for the title of Miss France 2023.

Furet, a biological man, is fresh off a successful run at Miss Paris, winning first runner-up. The national pageant changed its rules this past June, allowing women taller than 5 feet, 5 inches, mothers, smokers, and even those with tattoos to compete. Previously, the height requirement was what held Furet back from competing.

Rule changes came about after the feminist organization Osez le Feminisme sued the pageant system in October of last year. National laws that ban discrimination based on genetics or family situations helped tilt the new rules in Osez le Feminisme's favor.

Laure Mattioli, who’s the president of the Miss Île De France committee, assured the world that there really was no difference in having a man compete in a traditionally female sphere: “For us, Andrea is a candidate like the others. This new rule does not change the treatment of candidates. She is female on her marital status. That’s all that matters. I do not enter the privacy of girls.”

Image: Adam and Eve by Albrecht Dürer.

If Furet’s Wikipedia page is anything to go by, aside from that boob job, he’s still all man (although he has been taking estrogen). Given that fact, while Mattioli may not want to intrude on “the privacy of girls,” Furet may do that for her. There’s nothing like having a naked, erect man in your dressing room pretending to be one of the girls. It’s like the X-rated version of Some Like It Hot, the 1950s classic in which Tony Curtis and Jack Lemon hide from the mob by dressing as women, joining an all-girl band, and spending the entire movie ogling Marilyn Monroe.

The fact is that when you look at Furet’s pictures, you instantly see that there’s something wrong with him. He’s got fake boobs, of course, but the rest of him is emaciated. The only way he can sort of look like a woman is to starve himself. His legs are long but anything but shapely, he has no hips, and his arm is the arm of an adolescent boy who hasn’t yet gained any muscle. It’s actually quite disturbing to look at this warped body in women’s clothing:

At first glance, Furet makes a convincing woman. But here’s the thing: He’s not. He’s a man and there is a difference even if the French are no longer inclined to recognize it.

Why does this matter? Because reality matters. For society to encourage this deep dive into a fantasy that can be kept alive only with hugely expensive hormone treatments and multiple, never-fully-successful surgeries is to consign a generation to the inevitable collapse of their world—a world that will be littered with mutilated bodies and tremendously angry people whose isolation and sense of otherness (common to all teenagers) has led them to turn themselves into Frankenstein’s monster.

Once, when homosexuality was becoming socially acceptable, the joke was that it was no longer “Adam and Eve” in the Garden of Eden but “Adam and Steve.” Now, we’re being told to accept that it’s “Adam is Eve.” But looking at that emaciated Furet, I can tell you that Adam will never be Eve.

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