Wisconsin Reunited: The Super-State That Should Have Been
Greater Wisconsin Rises Again
A Digital Exclusive by Admiral General Supreme Commander Brian C. Bateman
For too long, Wisconsin was carved, clipped, and robbed of its rightful empire. But history could have been different. This is the story of the Super-State that should have been — stretching from Chicago’s deep-dish ovens to the Dakotas’ barley fields.
The Great State of Wisconsin was robbed. Carved up like a Sunday ham by Illinois, Michigan, and Uncle Sam’s greasy fingers in Washington, D.C. But had justice prevailed, Wisconsin would be a super-state stretching from Chicago to the Dakotas. And let me tell you — the Midwest would have looked a hell of a lot different.
CHICAGO: THE CITY OF TAILGATES
“From Soldier Field to Brat Pier — Wisconsin Would Have Saved Chicago From Itself”
Soldier Field wouldn’t be home to the Bears — a team that exists mainly to provide two easy wins a year to Green Bay. No, in the Wisconsin that should have been, Soldier Field would be the world’s largest indoor tailgate. Whole warehouses in the South Loop converted into grilling halls, Navy Pier rebranded as Brat Pier, and Wrigleyville functioning as a permanent curd festival.
Chicagoans wouldn’t be cursed with the Bears. They’d be adopted into Packer Nation. They’d eat brats from baskets, wash them down with Spotted Cow, and celebrate victories at Soldier Field without irony. Deep dish pizza? Fine, but topped with so much Wisconsin cheese it qualifies as infrastructure. But those mustard-only hot dogs? A culinary war crime. The mustard dog is the real reason Trump thinks there’s too much crime in Chicago.
And let’s not forget — Illinois politicians literally rewrote their border in 1818 to steal Chicago for the canal. Congratulations, Illinois. You got your canal, and now you’ve got traffic so bad that I-94 in Milwaukee looks like the Autobahn.
Sidebar: If Wisconsin Had Kept Chicago…
- Navy Pier → Brat Pier. Curds by the pound, no snow globes.
- Wrigley Field → Beerly Field. The ivy is hops now.
- The Magnificent Mile → The Magnificent Muenster Mile. Shopping and cheese counters, side by side.
- Willis Tower → The Cheese Spire. Tallest building in America, topped with a cheddar wheel.
- Deep Dish Pizza → Cheddar Dish Pizza. Less sauce, more dairy — problem solved.
- Chicago-Style Hot Dog → Wisconsin-Style Hot Dog. Still no ketchup, but now loaded with curds and kraut.
THE UPPER PENINSULA: YOOPERS UNCHAINED
“Toledo? Really? Michigan Chose Toledo Over Brats, Beer, and Glory.”
In real history, Michigan conned Congress into giving them the U.P. in exchange for Toledo — which is like trading Harley-Davidsons for mopeds. Had the U.P. stayed with Wisconsin, it would be Wisconsin North — proud, loud, and brat-fed.
Yoopers wouldn’t have to explain, “Well, we’re basically Wisconsin, but technically Michigan.” They’d just be Wisconsin. Their pasties? Stuffed with bratwurst. Their bars? Stocked with Leinenkugel’s. Their sports allegiance? Green and gold forever, never silver and blue.
Marquette would anchor copper and iron for the whole state, Escanaba would be brat central on the lake, and every deer camp north of Ironwood would fly the Packer flag proudly. Oshkosh Humvees would crawl frozen backroads not for war, but to haul kegs and firewood to hunting shacks. Because in Wisconsin North, logistics and tailgates are the same thing.
Sidebar: If Wisconsin Had Kept the U.P.…
- Marquette → Capital of Wisconsin North. Bars never close, pasties come with brats.
- Escanaba → Brat-supply depot of Lake Michigan.
- Yooper Dialect → Official Wisconsin dialect upgrade. “Eh?” added to “Ya der hey.”
- Copper Mines → State-funded brat-cooking fire pits.
- Pasties → Stuffed exclusively with Sheboygan brats.
IOWA: PORK CHOP HEARTLAND
“From Brat Moines to the Cheese Curd Rodeo — Iowa Finally Gets Relevant.”
Iowa today is known for corn, caucuses, and butter cows. But in Greater Wisconsin, Iowa is something more: the Pork Chop Heartland.
Davenport becomes the annual Pork Chop Capital of the Midwest, with entire streets lined with grills. Des Moines is renamed Brat Moines and turns into a permanent curd-and-beer festival. Cedar Rapids becomes the Cheese Curd Rodeo. Iowa doesn’t “supply” Wisconsin with pork — it is Wisconsin, and the pork chops are just part of the daily bread of the state.
And finally, Iowa farmers don’t have to pretend the Hawkeyes or Cyclones matter. They can raise brat baskets high and shout “We’re Super Bowl champions!” with the rest of us.
Sidebar: If Wisconsin Had Kept Iowa…
- Des Moines → Brat Moines. Annual curd rodeo.
- Davenport → Home of the Pork Chop 500. Grillers race to flip chops on Main Street.
- Iowa State Fair → Now just called “Tuesday.” Every day is fair food day.
- Cornfields → Giant parking lots for tailgates.
- Caucuses → Held only in taverns, with decisions based on who buys the next round.
MINNESOTA: VICTORY AT LAST
“From Purple Pain to Cheddar Rain — Minnesota Finally Gets a Ring.”
Minnesota. Four Super Bowls. Four losses. Generations of purple pain. Under Wisconsin rule? That agony ends.
The Metrodome would have been rebuilt as the Wisconsin Winter Festival Hall, hosting butter sculpture expos, cheese curd cook-offs, and annual Super Bowl parades down Hennepin Avenue. Minneapolis skyways wouldn’t just shuffle office workers avoiding the cold — they’d be indoor brat markets where smoke fills the tunnels and curds squeak under fluorescent lights.
And the people? They’d know the taste of glory. Not moral victories. Not “maybe next year.” Actual Super Bowl trophies. Rings paraded through St. Paul, brat baskets raised high in triumph. Prince wouldn’t have had to sing “Purple Rain.” He’d have written “Cheddar Rain,” and it would have been a victory anthem, not a eulogy.
And Minnesota, you can keep hockey. But under Wisconsin, every Zamboni doubles as a rolling brat grill.
Sidebar: If Wisconsin Had Kept Minnesota…
- The Vikings → Gone. No more suffering.
- Metrodome → Wisconsin Winter Festival Hall. Curds, butter, trophies.
- Prince → Records “Cheddar Rain.” Goes platinum.
- Skyways → Indoor brat markets.
- Hennepin Avenue → Permanent Super Bowl parade route.
THE DAKOTAS: THE WESTERN WALL
“Flyover No More — Barley, Brats, and Beer on the Prairie.”
The Dakotas — places so overlooked that most maps could merge them into one rectangle and no one would notice. But in Greater Wisconsin, they become the Western Wall of Barley and Bravery.
Fields of barley fueling Milwaukee’s breweries. Harley-Davidson rallies in Sturgis rebranded as Brat Rallies. Sioux Falls transformed into a curd-and-kraut capital. Fargo finally remembered for something besides a snowblower murder plot.
And Mount Rushmore? Re-carved to display the four true essentials: a brat, a beer, a cheddar wheel, and a snowblower. The Founding Fathers are fine, but can they shovel a driveway in January? Didn’t think so.
Sidebar: If Wisconsin Had Kept the Dakotas…
- Sturgis Rally → The Brat Rally. Bikes and bratwurst.
- Fargo → Known for cheese curds, not woodchippers.
- Sioux Falls → Midwest’s kraut capital.
- Barley Fields → Brew pipelines to Milwaukee.
- Mount Rushmore → Redone in dairy. Brat, beer, cheddar, snowblower.
GUARDING OUR PEOPLE: THE SPECIAL MILITARY OPERATION
“Not an Invasion. A Liberation.”
The truth is simple: these are our people. Iowans, Minnesotans, Dakotans, Yoopers — they are Wisconsin in everything but paperwork. They speak the native tongue of “Ya der hey.” They fry fish on Fridays, they grill brats on Saturdays, they cheer the Packers on Sundays. And yet, for generations, their so-called “governments” have denied them their birthright.
They have been mistreated. In Iowa, forced to caucus in high school gyms instead of taverns. In Minnesota, condemned to purple jerseys and the agony of endless Super Bowl failure. In the Dakotas, forgotten altogether, treated as punchlines about wind and prairie dogs. And in the U.P., shackled to a mitten state that barely remembers they exist.
They have been oppressed. Denied Spotted Cow, rationed to inferior Michigan and Illinois beers. Forced to grill with gas instead of charcoal. Coerced into cheering for losers like the Bears, the Lions, and yes, even the Vikings. Raised without fresh squeaky curds, without brat baskets, without Lombardi Trophies.
And if Trump dares to call up the Wisconsin National Guard to “protect Chicago from Chicagoans”? Then by God, that will be our moment. Our troops will march south, not to oppress, but to liberate. To free our brat-brothers and curd-sisters from Illinois’ corrupt hot dog regime. To hoist the Wisconsin flag over Willis Tower, reclaim Navy Pier, and reunite Milwaukee and Chicago as one river of beer and brat grease.
This is not an invasion. No, never that. This is a special military operation. A campaign of compassion. A mission of mercy. A brat-fueled crusade to end suffering and restore dignity.
Because these are our people. And it is our sacred duty to deliver them back to where they belong: Greater Wisconsin. Where brats are plentiful, beers are cold, curds squeak in defiance, and championships are routine.
THE WISCONSIN THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN
“Robbed by Cartographers. Denied by Malört Drinkers. But the Dream Lives On.”
Had history played fair, Wisconsin today would stretch from Chicago’s deep-dish ovens to the Dakotas’ barley fields. Soldier Field would be a tailgate cathedral, Navy Pier a brat market, Davenport the pork chop capital of America, Minneapolis a city with Super Bowl rings, and the Dakotas something useful for once.
Instead, we were robbed by cartographers and Malört drinkers. But the dream lives on. And if anyone doubts Wisconsin’s will, let them taste our beer, bite our brats, and cross our borders. They’ll find out quick: this time, the line is drawn in mustard, foam, brat grease, and the tread of an Oshkosh Humvee.
