Sophomoric, coffee bar barista socialist reveals her vision of the future

I dig absolutely!

She thinks that she and her pals will be attending glorious parties for the nomenklatura, while the peasants scrabble for crumbs dropped on the red carpet. Tickets cost for this gala: $35,000, tables started at $200,000.

They don’t get it; they don’t realize that the first to be lined up against the wall and shot will be … them. Which, frankly, will be the one positive take-away from the revolution to come.

Here’s our wokesstess’s dress designer on her outfit: Right on, brother!

“We can never get too comfortable in our seats at the table once they’ve been given,” James, founder and creative director of Brother Vellies told Vogue.

“We must always continue to push ourselves, push our colleagues, push the culture and push the country forward. Fashion is changing, America is changing. And as far as this theme goes, I think Alexandria and I are a great embodiment of the language fashion needs to consider adding to the general lexicon as we work towards a more sustainable, inclusive, and empowered future.”

What’s sad, or would be, if I had any sympathy for the deliberately stupid and lazy, is that the average college graduate now infesting our country believes that this is the future that awaits all of them: glamorous balls, fine food and wine, lovely garden apartments with a pair of bicycles and an all-electric vehicle in the garage, unlimited, Harley Street quality medical care, and “meaningful” jobs that they’ll go to joyously and with a song in their hearts, when they feel like going to work at all. And all this will be paid for at no cost to them, because the wealth to be confiscated from the 1-10th of 1% will pay for everything.

They don’t look at the rat-and-gang-infested housing projects in the Bronx and think, “this is what government-provided housing looks like”, they don’t read that in Britain, home of both Harley Street and the National Health Service, patients enrolled in the latter can no longer have personal visits with a doctor, or order up a hip replacement when in pain. And why don’t they observe, why don’t they question where they’re being led? Because unicorns are fuzzy and warm, and oh so comforting.

Update: It occurs to me that, not only did our working-class heroine from Bronxville push through a picket line of her BLM and Defund Police friends gathered to protest the evening’s proceedings, she did so while wearing a dress inspired by the world’s most hated homophobic corporation. Shocking.

And here’s a good question: Why were the staff required to wear masks at the party while the celebs went without?