In a stunning organizational mishap, Minnesota’s newly announced Rapid Response Battalions — designed to “mobilize thousands of anti-ICE activists” — now boast more *National Guard enlistees than actual protest sign-wavers.
The battalions were supposed to be the next evolution in leftist grassroots liberation — think early morning chants, guerrilla poetry slams, and perhaps a suspiciously well-organized bake sale with anarchist emoji cupcakes. But at the first recruitment drive, officials accidentally activated the state’s National Guard phone tree, leading to an avalanche of actual soldiers signing up to “oppose ICE peacefully.” A Guard colonel reportedly remarked, “We figured if we’re in the park anyway for frisbee practice, why not?”
Organizers initially tried to distinguish between veterans of social media activism and the newly minted Guard affiliates. One baffled volunteer said, “We expected people in neck tattoos and revolutionary sweatshirts. Instead we got crisp uniforms and surprisingly coordinated salute drills.”
Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, trying valiantly to clarify, issued a statement insisting his office does not endorse storming churches or substituting battering rams with “enthusiastic semantics.” However, the messaging got muddled when every press release included the phrase “Leave no protester behind” in bold Comic Sans — a move that inadvertently inspired the National Guard’s Moral Support Brigade to carry picket signs reading “Support the Guard, Support the Cause.”
What truly broke the narrative was when a union of nurses announced an “economic blackout” to demand ICE leave Minnesota, only to discover that most of their blackout signs were accidentally printed with voting ballot instructions. “We’re very passionate about healthcare but we may have accidentally taught people how to vote,” one union rep admitted, while handing out pamphlets that said “Vote for Ice Cream” under a giant Minnesota outline.
At press time, organizers were debating whether to rename their group The Guardians of Peaceful Ice Watchers or Minnesota’s Chill Brigade. Meanwhile, ICE has reportedly offered to help with “volunteer coordination,” provided everyone keeps chanting nicely. A local pastor who saw the whole scene remarked, “This is the most peaceful riot I’ve ever seen — the only casualty being everyone’s weekend plans.”
In the end, the new battalions have unintentionally bolstered Minnesota’s traditional defense forces and confused liberal chaos with organized frisbee practice. But in a world where everything is protestable, perhaps that’s just another day in the Land of 10,000 Lakes — and now 10,000 confused ex-activists.
