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Why The Right Should Adore Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez With Every Fiber Of Their Beings


My dearest Alexandria,

I love you. I love you platonically, unconditionally, and without reservations. My adoration for you knows no bounds. Alexandria, you are the best thing that’s happened to us since California politicians four times your age discovered Botox.

Back in 2018, you expressed strong opinions about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. From your confused babbling about the “occupation of Palestine” and “two-state solutions,” it was fairly clear that you had no idea who was doing what to whom over there. I knew right there and then that, even though you and I will never meet, our destinies were intertwined.

Alexandria, unlike the rest of us, you already live in your own personal socialist paradise. A true socialist, you live in a high-end luxury apartment in Washington, cruise around in monster gas-guzzling SUVs, and fly on airplanes the short distance to New York instead of taking the train (because trains and small cars are for the little people).

Remember the nearly $1 million that magically vanished from your campaign coffers and ended up with some shady fly-by-night P.O. Box outfit owned by (oddly enough) you and your campaign manager?  If a Republican did it, people would call it thievery.  But, really, why not use other people’s money to live the good socialist life?

If you didn’t exist, Republicans would have had to invent you; that’s how important you are. Your Green New Deal was a brilliant master stroke. Many people on the right and left thought the whole thing was a plant, concocted to discredit the very idea of global warming. It did all that, and more.

Nancy nearly choked on her pearls. Nancy thought the Green New Deal was a lunatic mish-mash of brainless gibberish (although she wasn’t nearly so charitable when she finally spoke). Unions howled in protest about the millions of union jobs at risk.

Your Boston University diploma says “international relations and economics.” Economists (real ones) say the Green New Deal would cost $93 trillion. The entire observable universe doesn’t have $93 trillion. But, who cares, right?

John Maynard Keynes is turning over in his grave, but he is a dead white guy, so who cares? Milton Friedman would be ashamed if he were alive, if he saw the state of American higher education. But he is also dead (and white, or at least he was, before he became dead) and a good deal problematic. You prefer such luminaries and wildly successful economic practitioners as Nicolas Maduro, Hugo Chavez, and Fidel Castro.

And that whole $93 trillion criticism of you is just ridiculously unfair. I know you have difficulties with numbers. A million, a billion, a trillion—it’s all the same to you. It’s not like it’s your money, right?

Prehistoric cavepersons (is that the right term?) used their fingers for math: one woolly mammoth, two woolly mammoths, three woolly mammoths, four woolly mammoths, many woolly mammoths. That was good enough for them—but your intellectual triumph came when you started using all ten fingers to do math. Thus, the Green New Deal was born. Just imagine the possibilities if you also used your toes!

Alexandria, many people on the right (and some on the left!) want to stifle your strong, passionate voice. Shame! On! Them! Because you contribute so much to our national discourse, I want to see more of you. I want our entire political universe to be all you, all the time. I want you to go even more viral. I want your lipsticked face plastered on buses, taxicabs, subway trains, and pizza delivery vans.

I want you on the front page of every newspaper—above the fold, every day. I want you interviewed on every cable news show — daily. I want you to have your own news show. And your own cooking show. And your own fashion show.

I want to see a weekly “Dancing with Ocasio-Cortez” TV extravaganza. I want you anchoring the evening news. You should be required viewing in every workplace, every airport, every prison cafeteria, and every DMV. I want you doing those airline safety videos they show on those little screens on airplanes.

I want you on the big screen, the small screen, and the tiny screen. I want DC Comics to make you into a new kind of superhero with super spending powers—The Socialister. I want you in the role of Princess Leia. And Boba Fett. And Jabba the Hut.

Alexandria, you are precious. You are truly a gift that keeps on giving. Silencing you would be a disaster for the GOP. You should be on every social network and mobile app known to man. Every search result from every search engine should be about you, and only you—regardless of the query.

With the lowest unemployment in living memory and five million jobs added, with businesses raising wages to retain workers, with the stock market shattering new heights after two years of spectacular economic growth, America has become a fetid hellhole of misery, woe, and despair. You should campaign in every contested congressional race to make things right again.

Any endangered Republican should pay you to give speeches supporting the other guy. They should lease a gulfstream jet so you and your boyfriend can travel in the ultimate socialist style. Given your already gigantic carbon footprint, it won’t make much difference to the planet.

Alexandria, you are Trump’s secret weapon. He is itching to see you out there on the campaign trail. Your stumping for the Democratic nominee will be priceless. The Donald has your photo as the home screen on his presidential iPhone. He is probably writing his second inauguration speech right now.

Alexandria, it is only because I care deeply about you that I must tell you how I truly feel about your legislative and public policy achievements. There is simply no sugarcoating this: detailed in-depth analysis of your “ideas” is the very definition of absurdity. I refuse to call you “stupid” because no one else in the entire recorded human history was ever stupid enough to make cow flatulence into a global warming issue. The notion that you have “Jewish” roots (as you’ve claimed) is unworthy of discussion—no one in his or her right mind believes it.

You recently said that the world will end in 12 years and wondered if it was morally acceptable to have children. You were right to wonder; you should not have children. Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes (another dead white guy) once said: “Three generations of imbeciles is enough.” In this very unique case, let us stop with one generation.

Alexandria, you are my hero.

Yours forever,

George Bardmesser