Sexy AOC Makes A Statement

reagansghost said:
she's an intelligent, informed, free woman...........triggers righties every time speaks, they hate those qualities in women........
Click to expand...

She's inexperienced and a little goofy, but I readily agree that she triggers the RWNJs at the drop of a pin. I don't understand why.
 
reagansghost said:
incels hate AOC, that's pretty obvious here
Click to expand...

Incels hate all women. While many Trumpers are incels, not all Trump voters are incels. Again, I don't know why the RW nutjobs target AOC over the other 221 Democratic House reps.


a88nqbe_460s.jpg
 
Stretch said:
Awwww, they cut it back. It was reported more earlier today. Guess it's the poorhouse for them. LOL
Click to expand...

There are only about ten people in the world with a net worth of $100 billion, and you would immediately recognize all their names. Riley Roberts is not one of them.
 
Dutch Uncle said:
Hence the goofy part. I think she's intelligent enough to learn, but right now she's like a Second Lieutenant with a screwdriver.
Click to expand...

No, she's not. She's your typical liberal arts major. I doubt she's read a book this year. It's really a shame that morons can obtain high positions like that.

In a way, Mark Twain's short story Luck explains her rise to power.

It was at a banquet in London in honour of one of the two or three conspicuously illustrious English
military names of this generation. For reasons which will presently appear, I will withhold his real name and
titles, and call him Lieutenant-General Lord Arthur Scoresby, V.C., K.C.B., etc., etc., etc. What a fascination
there is in a renowned name! There say the man, in actual flesh, whom I had heard of so many thousands of
times since that day, thirty years before, when his name shot suddenly to the zenith from a Crimean battle-field,
to remain for ever celebrated. It was food and drink to me to look, and look, and look at that demigod;
scanning, searching, noting: the quietness, the reserve, the noble gravity of his countenance; the simple honesty
that expressed itself all over him; the sweet unconsciousness of his greatness – unconsciousness of the hundreds
of admiring eyes fastened upon him, unconsciousness of the deep, loving, sincere worship welling out of the
breasts of those people and flowing toward him.
The clergyman at my left was an old acquaintance of mine – clergyman now, but had spent the first
half of his life in the camp and field, and as an instructor in the military school at Woolwich. Just at the moment
I have been talking about, a veiled and singular light glimmered in his eyes, and he leaned down and muttered
confidentially to me – indicating the hero of the banquet with a gesture, – ‘Privately – his glory is an accident –
just a product of incredible luck.’
This verdict was a great surprise to me. If its subject had been Napoleon, or Socrates, or Solomon, my
astonishment could not have been greater.
Some days later came the explanation of this strange remark, and this is what the Reverend told me.
About forty years ago I was an instructor in the military academy at Woolwich. I was present in one of the
sections when young Scoresby underwent his preliminary examination. I was touched to the quick with pity;
for the rest of the class answered up brightly and handsomely, while he – why, dear me, he didn’t know
anything, so to speak. He was evidently good, and sweet, and lovable, and guileless; and so it was exceedingly
painful to see him stand there, as serene as a graven image, and deliver himself of answers which were veritably
miraculous for stupidity and ignorance. All the compassion in me was aroused in his behalf. I said to myself,
when he comes to be examined again, he will be flung over, of course; so it will be simple a harmless act of
charity to ease his fall as much as I can.
I took him aside, and found that he knew a little of Caesar’s history; and as he didn’t know anything
else, I went to work and drilled him like a galley-slave on a certain line of stock questions concerning Caesar
which I knew would be used. If you’ll believe me, he went through with flying colours on examination day!
He went through on that purely superficial ‘cram’, and got compliments, too, while others, who knew a
thousand times more than he, got plucked. By some strangely lucky accident – an accident not likely to happen
twice in a century – he was asked no question outside of the narrow limits of his drill.
It was stupefying. Well, although through his course I stood by him, with something of the sentiment
which a mother feels for a crippled child; and he always saved himself – just by miracle, apparently.
Now of course the thing that would expose him and kill him at last was mathematics. I resolved to
make his death as easy as I could; so I drilled him and crammed him, and crammed him and drilled him, just on
the line of questions which the examiner would be most likely to use, and then launched him on his fate.
Well, sir, try to conceive of the result: to my consternation, he took the first prize! And with it he got a perfect
ovation in the way of compliments.
Sleep! There was no more sleep for me for a week. My conscience tortured me day and night. What I
had done I had done purely through charity, and only to ease the poor youth’s fall – I never had dreamed of any
such preposterous result as the thing that had happened. I felt as guilty and miserable as the creator of
Frankenstein. Here was a wooden-head whom I had put in the way of glittering promotions and prodigious
responsibilities, and but one thing could happen: he and his responsibilities would all go to ruin together at the
first opportunity.
The Crimean war had just broken out. Of course there had to be a war, I said to myself: we couldn’t have
peace and give this donkey a chance to die before he is found out. I waited for the earthquake. It came.
And it made me reel when it did come. He was actually gazetted to a captaincy in a marching regiment! Better
men grow old and gray in the service before they climb to a sublimity like that. (16) And who could ever have
foreseen that they would go and put such a load of responsibility on such green and inadequate shoulders? I
could just barely have stood it if they had made him a cornet; but a captain – think of it! I thought my hair
would turn white.
Consider what I did – I who so loved repose and inaction. I said to myself, I am responsible to the
country for this, and I must go along with him and protect the country against him as far as I can. So I took my
poor little capital that I had saved up through years of work and grinding economy, and went with a sigh and
bought a cornetcy in his regiment, and away we went to the field.
And there – oh dear, it was awful. Blunders? why, he never did anything but blunder. But, you see,
nobody was in the fellow’s secret – everybody had him focused wrong, and necessarily misinterpreted his
performance every time – consequently they took his idiotic blunders for inspirations of genius; they did
honestly! His mildest blunders were enough to make a man in his right mind cry; and they did make me
cry – and rage and rave too, privately. And the thing that kept me always in a sweat of apprehension was the
fact that every fresh blunder he made increased the lustre of his reputation! I kept saying to myself, he’ll get so
high that when discovery does finally come it will be like the sun falling out of the sky.
He went right along up, from grade to grade, over the dead bodies of his superiors, until at last, in the
hottest moment of the battle of.... down went our colonel, and my heart jumped into my mouth, for Scoresby
was next in rank! Now for it, said I; we’ll all land in Sheol in ten minutes, sure.
The battle was awfully hot; the allies were steadily giving way all over the field. Our regiment
occupied a position that was vital; a blunder now must be destruction. At this critical moment, what does this
immortal fool do but detach the regiment from its place and order a charge over a neighbouring hill where there
wasn’t a suggestion of an enemy! ‘There you go!’ I said to myself; ‘this is the end at last.’
(22) And away we did go, and were over the shoulder of the hill before the insane movement could be
discovered and stopped. And what did we find? An entire and unsuspected Russian army in reserve! And what
happened? We were eaten up? That is necessarily what would have happened in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred. (23) But no; those Russians argued that no single regiment would come browsing around there at such
a time. It must be the entire English army, and that the sly Russian game was detected and blocked; so they
turned tail, and away they went, pell-mell, over the hill and down into the field, in wild confusion, and we after
them; they themselves broke the solid Russia centre in the field, and tore through, and in no time there was the
most tremendous rout you ever saw, and the defeat of the allies was turned into a sweeping and splendid victory!
Marshal Canrobert looked on, dizzy with astonishment, admiration, and delight; and sent right off for
Scoresby, and hugged him, and decorated him on the field in presence of all the armies!
And what was Scoresby’s blunder that time? Merely the mistaking his right hand for his left – that was all.
An order had come to him to fall back and support our right; and instead he fell forward and went over the hill
to the left. But the name he won that day as a marvellous military genius filled the world with his glory,
and that glory will never fade while history books last.
He is just as good and sweet and lovable and unpretending as a man can be, but he doesn’t know enough to
come in when it rains. He has been pursued, day by day and year by year, by a most phenomenal and
astonishing luckiness. He has been a shining soldier in all our wars for half a generation; he has littered his
military life with blunders, and yet has never committed one that didn’t make him a knight or a baronet or a
lord or something. Look at his breast; why, he is just clothed in domestic and foreign decorations. Well, sir,
every one of them is a record of some shouting stupidity or other; and, taken together, they are proof that the
very best thing in all this world that can befall a man is to be born lucky.
Click to expand...
 
AProudLefty said:
Like how you believed Trump?
Click to expand...

Ask AOC how much lobbyist money she took and insider stocks she bought last year.

Let's see what's really up.

Trump didn't take lobbyist money.
In fact he banned some lobbying. :/

True Story. Ofc it was EO and Biden Immediately overturned it once inaugurated.

Cuz you know, as a Senator that was his main source of income.

As a Senator.
 
T. A. Gardner said:
No, she's not. She's your typical liberal arts major. I doubt she's read a book this year. It's really a shame that morons can obtain high positions like that.

In a way, Mark Twain's short story Luck explains her rise to power.
Click to expand...
Meh. Remember the movie "Chinatown"? "Forget it, Jake. It's New York City." Again, I don't understand why so many RWers, especially the nutjobs, have a hair up their ass about the youngest woman in Congress. Note that she's no longer the youngest member of Congress ever since the Republicans elected 26 year old Madison Cawthorn (R-NC)

Thanks for the Mark Twain story but I prefer Stephen Coont's version of "Lucky".

Dutch Uncle said:
The fact you are absolving ship's personnel from all responsibility and blaming it on supernatural forces means no amount of facts will persuade you. "luck", "cursed" and "jinxed" are all related to supernatural forces. Predeterminism. Fatalism.

According to you, this must be just "bad luck", "bad karma" or a jinx:

IdioticMassiveEchidna-size_restricted.gif

In my opinion, the Aircraft Commander fucked up and the crew didn't stop him. Four Americans died as a result. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1994_Fairchild_Air_Force_Base_B-52_crash

Sorry, I believe we make our own "luck" as Stephen Coonts once wrote. I do support the math and the calculation of odds. Cost benefit analysis vs risk benefit analysis. Yes, I've jokingly used the phrase "better to be lucky than good", but I never believed any "bad luck" was the fates being against me.
Just the luck of the draw versus my life decisions. :)

"The Philosophy of Luck" - Stephen Coonts, Approach magazine
The Philosophy of Luck By Stephen Coonts
(From “Approach” Magazine, July- August 1995)

My father, a naval officer in World War II, used to tell me. “You make your own luck.” I think, in one sense, he was right. That is the kernel of truth Lt. Col. Haldane states in “The Intruders”: “The thing we call luck is merely professionalism and attention to detail; it’s your awareness of everything that is going on around you; it’s how well you know and understand your airplane and your own limitations. Luck is the sum total of your abilities as an aviator. If you think your luck is running low, you’d better get busy and make some more. Work harder. Pay more attention. Study your NATOPS (Air Force-1, the flight manual) more. Do better preflights.”

That’s partly true. You’ll certainly minimize your problems, but there’s a limit to how much luck you can make. In “The Intruders”, Jake wrestles with the whole concept of luck. People tell him he is lucky to have so narrowly escaped disaster, yet he feels unlucky that he got so close to the edge. Luck is a banana peel, a slippery proposition. Are we unlucky because we had an accident, or lucky that it wasn’t worse? Clearly, the perspective from which we view an event has a huge effect on its psychological import to us. This is the point that one of the characters in “The Intruders” makes to Jake referring to investments: “There’s no such thing as bad news. Whether an event is good or bad depends on where you’ve got your money.”

For example, statisticians might tell us there is a probability that the fleet will experience one cold cat shot (cold cat shot – an unsuccessful attempt at launching an aircraft from an aircraft carrier) this year. We all breathe a sigh of relief – only one. Yet the pilot it happens to will come face-to-face with absolute catastrophe, a disaster of the first order of magnitude. One cold cat shot a year in the fleet is a statistic, but one cold cat shot happening to you is a major event in your life – perhaps the major event – a crisis you may not survive.

I never thought much of the old saw, “I’d rather be lucky than good.” I think the good are lucky. Not the morally good, but the professionally good. There is just no substitute for sound, thorough preparation to avoid or cope with foreseeable misfortune. People who drive straddling the center line can get around a few curves, but sooner or later, they’re going to meet a Kenworth coming the other way. That’s not predictable, it’s inevitable.
Click to expand...
 
AOC has a beautiful smile. She should have smiled for the photos.

She could also have used a better make-up and hair job.

She could have looked much better.

She's got a nice figure. She got her point across. It's obvious she is doing the job she was meant to do. She lacks the showy/glitzy factor. It was a bold move for her to make this visual statement in this way. It doesn't seem to come natural to her.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top