In the immediate aftermath of the attempted shooting at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner — an incident that forced the evacuation of President Donald Trump and underscored once again the real-world consequences of escalated political rhetoric — a Wisconsin brewery owner and former Democratic candidate sparked outrage by publicly rooting for the president’s assassination.
Kirk Bangstad, owner of Minocqua Brewing Company and founder of the affiliated Minocqua Brewing Company Super PAC, sparked outrage after posting online that he was disappointed Trump survived a recent attempt on his life.
“Well, we almost got #freebeerday,” Bangstad wrote. “Either a brother or sister in the Resistance needs to work on their marksmanship or he faked another assassination to get a positive news cycle. We’ll never know. Regardless, we stand at the ready to pour free beer the day it happens.”
HOLY CR*P 🚨 This brewery called Minocqua Brewing Company in Wisconsin upset that Donald Trump didn’t get assassinated tonight is owned by Kirk Bangstad
Kirk Bangstad is a Democrat who ran for Wisconsin State Assembly
He founded a Democrat Super PAC that raised millions to… pic.twitter.com/WFAZ2pZtkB
— Wall Street Apes (@WallStreetApes) April 26, 2026
The remark was not an isolated one. Bangstad’s brewery has openly marketed merchandise tied to the idea of Trump’s death, including shirts emblazoned with phrases like “Is he dead yet?” and references to a “free beer day” that would take effect if the president was assassinated. They also sell voodoo dolls with the faces of President Trump, Vice President JD Vance, Stephen Miller, FBI Director Kash Patel, and an anonymous ICE agent. The brewery’s online store features political products such as “WOKE Coffee” and “Progressive Beer,” tying its commercial brand directly to left-wing activism.
Bangstad, a Democrat who previously ran for Wisconsin State Assembly, has long positioned himself as a political agitator. His Super PAC has raised millions of dollars to support liberal causes and Democratic candidates, while also launching a series of lawsuits targeting Republican policies and figures, including an effort to remove Trump from Wisconsin’s ballot.
But Bangstad’s rhetoric has often been just as controversial as his political efforts. According to reporting from Wisconsin Public Radio, he has been at the center of multiple defamation cases and legal disputes. In one incident, he posted a sexually explicit parody image targeting a local newspaper editor, prompting criminal defamation charges and significant personal distress for the victim. The editor reportedly told police she began sleeping with a knife near her bed after seeing the image.
Bangstad has also been found liable in a separate civil defamation case, resulting in a $750,000 judgment, later settled for $580,000, one of the largest such penalties in Wisconsin history.
Despite these legal setbacks, Bangstad has embraced a combative public persona. He describes himself as a “fighter” and frequently frames his disputes as battles for free speech and justice.
Bangstad’s political organization operates in a similarly controversial way. Financial records show that the Minocqua Brewing Company Super PAC has spent large sums on opaque or unexplained expenses. Hundreds of thousands of dollars have been paid to little-known entities with no public presence, while former employees allege that PAC funds were used to pay brewery staff for non-political work.
Several former workers told local reporters they were paid through the Super PAC despite performing routine bar duties. One employee described receiving checks labeled “organizing” even though no such activities were conducted.
While such practices may raise ethical questions, Super PACs operate under looser rules than traditional political campaigns. That regulatory gap has led some watchdogs to warn about so-called “scam PACs,” where political donations are redirected toward the organizers themselves rather than meaningful advocacy.
Bangstad has dismissed criticism of his spending and business practices, often responding aggressively to those who question him. Former employees and associates say he has used social media to target critics personally, including their families.
At the same time, Bangstad has cultivated a reputation among some leftwing activists as a provocative, anti-establishment figure. His newsletters reportedly reach tens of thousands of subscribers, and his brewery has become a destination for politically aligned customers.
The most recent episode underscores the increasingly volatile intersection of politics, activism, and commerce, where businesses double as ideological platforms and public figures blur the line between advocacy and provocation. Ironically then during his 2020 Assembly campaign, his website prominently declared, “PUT THE HEALTH OF WISCONSINITES AHEAD OF PARTISANSHIP.”
At a moment when law enforcement officials are still investigating the motive behind the White House incident, Bangstad’s response underscores a deeper problem in American politics: a culture in which outrage and extremism is tolerated, celebrated, branded, and monetized, no matter the human cost.
