Ocasio-Cortez Suffers Double Blow As Socialism Takes Over Dem Party
New York Democratic Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and socialism have taken quite a few hits in the past week. Just before New York City Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani arrived in Washington for his first meeting with President Donald Trump, the House of Representatives passed a bipartisan resolution condemning what it called the “horrors of socialism.”
“A yes vote on this resolution should be a relatively straightforward, easy decision. It simply states that Congress denounces socialism in all its forms and opposes the implementation of socialist policies in the United States of America,” Republican Arkansas Rep. French Hill said.
The measure passed in a bipartisan vote of 285-98. Among the 86 Democrats who backed it were 14 members from New York and New Jersey, including House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, who endorsed Mamdani only in the final moments of the mayoral race.
Several Democrats and progressives have also whined about House Democrats’ refusal to elevate Ocasio-Cortez while sticking with older Democrats who have been in Congress for decades.
Far-left commentator argued, “At this point almost nothing the Democratic Party does makes any damned sense. They are hanging onto their gerontocracy and consultant class at the expense of their most loyal voters. And let’s just be clear, they’ll be fine while our communities pay the price.”Progressive YouTuber Brian Tyler Cohen said, “Democrats refuse to learn their lesson. Refuse to take generational change seriously. Refuse to spotlight the party’s most effective communicators.”
Recommended for youPod Save America‘s Dan Pfeiffer concurred, submitting, “Valuing seniority over political and messaging chops is exactly how Democrats got into this mess in the first place.”
Another left-wing podcaster, Matt Lech, responded to Pfeiffer’s tweet by declaring, “It is maliciously misleading people to say this is about ‘seniority,’ which was not determinative last time. Are we gonna grow up and confront this blatant corruption here or just shadowbox.”
Mamdani and AOC have sparked a “socialist movement” that could endanger Democrats going into the 2026 midterms.
“Two more candidates who are proud to align themselves with socialism are running for important House seats in solid blue districts in Democrat-controlled states. The secret sauce fueling this phenomenon is a widely perceived belief among the progressives who dominate the grassroots of the party that the Democratic establishment is corrupt to the core and must not just be reformed but thoroughly eradicated,” wrote Liberty Nation’s Joe Schaeffer.
That enemy is none other than California state Senator Scott Wiener, who is one of the most extreme left-wing politicians in the Golden State. But Wiener is also thought to be connected to the party’s mainstream, which could hurt him a lot more in the Bay Area than his controversial views on how transgender youth “rights” should take precedence over parental authority or how “sex workers” should be free to roam California street corners.
Chakrabarti and Wiener are both running for the Democratic nomination for the seat that Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) is leaving open. Three or four years ago, during the Biden administration’s White House heyday, the political climate may have supported Wiener. But in 2025, the winds of change are obviously flowing in Chakrabarti’s direction.
Recommended for youChakrabarti helped start the Justice Democrats, a dissident progressive group that became well-known when Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) became a rising star on the left in November 2018.
One of these fellow travelers is Chi Osse, a member of the New York City Council who is running against House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) in the primary.
Osse, who is 27 years old, left the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) in 2022 because of a disagreement over policy. However, he rejoined the group this past summer. Many moderate Democrats are worried about this looming fight.
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.” But the next mo
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.”
But the next morning in the emergency room, the doctor studied my X-ray and immediately called 911—because what he saw… exposed a horrifying truth.
Part One: “It’s Just a Joke”
On my birthday, the room smelled like sugar and candles and cheap champagne. A pink cake sat in the center of the table, my name written across it in looping frosting. Everyone was laughing. Phones were out. Someone shouted for me to make a wish.
My sister stood closest to me.
She grinned, eyes bright with something that wasn’t kindness. Before I could even lean forward, her hands slammed the cake straight into my face.
The impact was harder than anyone expected.
I felt myself stumble backward, my heel catching on the rug. There was a sharp crack as my head hit the edge of the table, then the floor. For a split second, the room spun in white and pink. I tasted sugar—and then iron.
Blood mixed with frosting, dripping down my chin.
People screamed, then laughed nervously.
“Oh my God,” someone said, still chuckling. “It’s just a joke!”
My sister laughed the loudest. “Relax! You’re so dramatic.”
I tried to sit up. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My vision blurred, and the ceiling swayed like it was floating. Someone wiped my face with a napkin, smearing blood across my cheek.
“You’re fine,” my mother said quickly. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
I remember thinking how strange it was that my ears were ringing louder than the music.
I remember the taste of frosting as I swallowed blood.
I remember waking up hours later in my bed, alone, my head throbbing, my phone full of messages telling me not to be “too sensitive.”
By morning, I couldn’t lift my arm.
Part Two: The X-Ray That Changed Everything
The emergency room smelled like disinfectant and sleepless nights. The doctor asked how it happened. I hesitated, then said quietly, “I fell.”
He nodded, unconvinced, and ordered X-rays “just to be safe.”
I lay on the cold table staring at the ceiling, replaying the laughter over and over in my head. It’s just a joke. That sentence hurt almost as much as my skull.
When the doctor returned, he wasn’t smiling.
He stared at the image on the screen for a long time. Too long.
Then he left the room without a word.
Minutes later, he came back—with a nurse, a security officer, and his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I need emergency services. Immediately.”
My heart started pounding. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He turned to me, his voice careful. “This isn’t a simple fall.”
He pointed to the X-ray. Even I could see it—fine fractures branching like cracks in glass, not just in my skull, but along my collarbone and ribs. Old fractures. Healed wrong. Layered.
“These injuries happened at different times,” he said gently. “Some weeks apart. Some months.”
I stared at the screen, my mouth dry.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
He met my eyes. “This pattern isn’t accidental. And the impact that brought you in today could have killed you.”
The word killed echoed in my ears.
“Who did this to you?” he asked softly.
I thought of my sister’s grin. My parents’ laughter. All the times I’d been shoved, tripped, “joked” into walls. All the times I’d been told I was clumsy. Sensitive. Overreacting.
My hands began to shake.
“I think…” My voice broke. “I think it was never a joke.”
Part Three: When Laughter Turns Into Sirens
The police arrived quietly. Calmly. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d seen something like me.
They didn’t accuse. They asked questions.
Who was there last night?
Who pushed you?
How often do you get hurt?
For the first time, I didn’t minimize. I didn’t protect anyone. I told the truth.
By evening, my phone was exploding.
My mother crying.
My father furious.
My sister screaming that I had “ruined everything.”
“You’re exaggerating!” she yelled over voicemail. “It was cake! Everyone saw it!”
Everyone had seen it.
That was the horrifying truth.
Everyone had seen it—and laughed.
The investigation didn’t take long. Videos surfaced. Old medical records were reviewed. Witnesses contradicted themselves. Patterns became impossible to ignore.
What started as a “birthday prank” became an assault case.
What they called humor was documented as violence.
I was moved to a different room that night, monitored closely, safe for the first time in years. As I lay there, ice wrapped around my head, I realized something terrifying and freeing all at once:
If that cake hadn’t been smashed into my face…
If I hadn’t fallen just right…
The truth might have stayed buried forever.
Sometimes it takes breaking something visible to expose what’s been shattered for years.
