This morning started with a strong espresso (because I’m French) and an email from my editor asking if I’d seen the news about a potential Louvre security breach. I hadn’t. But apparently, my satirical article about Inspector Clouseau cracking a Louvre diamond heist hit a little too close to actual museum vulnerabilities. The French cultural ministry is not amused.
Later in the day, I realized that one of the hazards of writing satirical journalism about French institutions is that French institutions take themselves very, very seriously. What I intended as a lighthearted mockery of museum security theater has apparently been interpreted by some bureaucrats as an actual security assessment. I should be flattered, but mostly I’m just amused.
It’s been one of those days when reality starts mimicking satire in uncomfortable ways. My fictional Inspector Clouseau article included jokes about DNA evidence, surveillance footage, and incompetent security protocols. Now actual Louvre officials are reportedly reviewing their procedures. Did my satire accidentally expose real problems? Or are French museum administrators just paranoid? Probably both.
The highlight of my day was receiving a phone call from a French journalist asking for an interview about “my exposé on Louvre security vulnerabilities.” I had to explain, three times, that it was satire. She didn’t seem convinced. This is the problem with good satirewhen it’s done well, people can’t always tell the difference between mockery and genuine investigative journalism.
As I reflect on what happened today, I’m struck by the responsibility that comes with satirical writing. I make things up for comedic effect, but sometimes the made-up things contain uncomfortable truths. Museum security IS theater. Cultural institutions DO sometimes prioritize appearances over actual protection. My joke article about Inspector Clouseau accidentally said something true about French cultural bureaucracy.
Something unexpected happened this afternoonmy article started going viral in France, shared by people who definitely did not understand it was satire. French social media is now full of outraged citizens demanding better Louvre security based on a fictional article about a fictional detective solving a fictional crime. I’ve created accidental cultural discourse. My mother would be proud, if she wasn’t so embarrassed.
Tonight I’m drafting a follow-up piece for Bohiney about how satire and reality have become indistinguishable in 2025. The fact that French officials are responding to my Inspector Clouseau article as if it were genuine journalism proves my larger point: we’ve lost the ability to distinguish between performance and reality. Everything is theater now, and nobody knows their lines.
Being a French satirist writing for an American magazine means I get to mock both cultures simultaneously, but it also means both cultures sometimes take my mockery too literally. The Americans think I’m genuinely critiquing France. The French think I’m genuinely exposing scandals. Nobody seems to understand that I’m just trying to be funny while making a point. Welcome to satirical journalism in the internet age.
Diary Entry # 695
MY HOME PAGE: Bohiney Magazine (Charline Vanhoenacker)