Don’t panic! Coke has not gone woke

A Doom and Reprisal editorial from Ford Wenty, Ale 81 Inn field correspondent

We are living in a media landscape where the more patently absurd a narrative is, the more currency it gains. To be clear, a narrative needn’t be false to be absurd. The true absurdity lies in the fact that these should even rise to the level of becoming narratives. Now here is a fine for instance for you.

Most notably over the past decade major media companies worldwide have carried water for the narrative that capitalism is bad. It’s an awful, horrible, dehumanizing system which has clearly failed and must be replaced. That is the narrative in the broad sense. It is in the discussion of the replacement of capitalism that this narrative begins to lose some of it’s uniformity. It is also then that the cheerleaders and waterboys trot out the varsity squad of shills and bullshit artists to tell us all how it’s going to be. This is to cement the narrative as gospel. And all the while these outlets are generating what? Not viewers. Those numbers are plummeting, and yet they are still generating profits. Yes, that’s right. Profit: the central tenet of capitalism.

Their version of capitalism, even though they are loathe to call it such, is not the cold hearted monolith portrayed in their public proclamations. Why they have profit sharing! Those vacuous mouthpieces of cosmetics and mousse are handsomely rewarded to appear before the camera and recite the script. Any script. Just read the teleprompter, smile and show us some leg Jennifer. It really doesn’t matter if it directly contradicts what we said last week. YOU are a credible news source because we gave you a blue checkmark. One sometimes has to wonder: are they actually such whores that for the right price they’ll say anything? Or do they really believe their own bullshit? My observations of what they put on camera would suggest equal measures of both.

This lunacy has spread into the broader corporate world. It didn’t happen overnight, but the phenomenon has certainly been catalysed by the events of the past year. This phenomenon is comprised of multiple, moving parts, but it is generally identified under the umbrella of “woke”. In true Orwellian fashion this “woke” is in actuality the polar opposite of what it pretends to be. It is only natural that actors and entertainers were quick to embrace woke: they play pretend for their living. The very notion that any of these people have even their pinkie toes grounded upon any reality that you or I know is utterly preposterous. Next came the sports leagues, because again, what are they but entertainers? Modern day jesters and gladiators. I have no quarrel with those who will pay to watch these diversions and I may in fact indulge some of these myself on occasion. I don’t seek out any of these people for advice on finance, medical conditions, home maintenance or any other topics that have any true bearing on my life. The only thing that “woke” seems to offer is advice (?) on how one may speak and behave. I feel reasonably confident that I speak not only for myself when I say that I don’t need any help in that department. Any advice that is unsolicited, no matter how credible it’s source, invariably comes with an agenda attached. It’s just one more form of manipulation from the class of individuals who seek validation for their existence by managing the existence of others. They go on chanting the mantra as they are laughing all the way to the bank.

In these professional sports leagues, and by extension the sports networks, it began with the infection of individuals and rapidly metastasized into an aggressive cancer upon the entire body. If someone had said to me thirty years ago that Michael Jordan would get on his knees at mid court of the United Center and proceed to fellate the chairman of the Chinese Communist Party before a live television audience, I’d have been calling the local state mental hospital to advise that one of theirs had gone missing. In 2020 Lebron James, the alleged successor of the Jordan legacy, did just that at various other arenas and on more than one occasion. This is a part of that “new normal” you’ve been hearing so much about. In the NFL it began with Colin Kaepernick, a case study in the remarkable metamorphic power of woke. Here you have a biracial kid who was adopted by a white family and raised in the protected comforts of a lilywhite suburb. He possessed enough athletic ability and just enough white privilege to gain a ticket to University of Nevada of the Western Athletic Conference, where he started fifty-one games at quarterback in four years with as many bowl appearances. And then it was on to the NFL and… San Francisco, the west’s finest bastion of woke thought and culture.

Colin Kaepernick was good enough to finish eighth in voting for the Heisman Trophy his senior year. He was good enough to be picked thirty-sixth overall in the 2011 NFL draft. He was good enough to start at quarterback for the 49ers for a few years, even once taking them to the Super Bowl where they lost to a more disciplined defensive unit. He was good enough for all of that, but it wasn’t good enough for him. Now he bears the distinction of being America’s best known unemployed NFL quarterback. In twenty years, when they are still trying to deny the greatness of Tom Brady, Kaepernick will be remembered for more ‘fro than football; a paragon of the new civil rights movement, rather than what he truly is: a pathetic tool.

Professional sports are a form of entertainment, but they have become more than that. For good or ill they are undeniably a substantial component of our modern American heritage. Just like television and junk food they occupy a space of normalcy in American culture, such as it is. They have become a part of tradition. Traditions are formed over time through an organic consensus of the common man. As such they are rooted in a longevity that does not smile upon incursions of the cause du jour. Traditions are not naturally moved by the paroxysms of momentary outrage, for if they were there would be no traditions. We even have a saying about tradition that survives yet today in the American lexicon: baseball, mom and apple pie. These evoke further visions of summer picnics with charcoal fires to flame broil hot dogs and burgers, served with lemonade. Or a nice, fresh Coca-Cola on ice.

The Coca-Cola Bottling Co., Inc. The textbook success story of American capitalism. Never before in history has one company realized so much profit from the production of a commodity that is completely unnecessary. It’s success was not born out of any dire crisis; rather, it was the result of market forces left to operate without interference. There was no need for Coca-Cola. People tried it, they liked it and they wanted to buy it. So much so, in fact, that Coca-Cola’s success ended up fostering numerous imitators, a number of which would go on to also enjoy great profitability. Of all these only Coke has become synonymous with the cola soft drink. It almost approaches the territory of being an institution, which makes it all the more alarming to see headlines that suggest Coke has gone woke.

It is incumbent on me to inform you that this is not true. Some people have said that Coca-Cola had encouraged their white employees to strive to be less white, or words to that effect. I have it on good authority that this is a misrepresentation of facts. This is sadly one of the manifestations of woke, one in which the mere hint or suggestion of an idea is conflated into gospel truth and repeated ad infinitum. Fear not, good readers, for I can assure you that Coca-Cola is the same profit grubbing behemoth that is has been for decades. They never contented themselves with being the premier purveyor of carbonated soft drinks, venturing also into the realms of bottled water, teas, “smart” water, and energy drinks. They are over five-hundred brands operating in two-hundred countries around the world, fueled by an omnipresent and relentless marketing blitz. Companies that become this large are hopelessly removed from whatever vestigial founding mission statement that yet survives on the company letterhead. They are motivated by one thing and one thing only: profit. This tends to keep the shareholders, one of those other inconvenient elements of capitalism, happy.

The reader is left then with the nagging question, what is going on at Coca-Cola? It is perhaps premature, but you will all doubtless learn the truth soon enough, so here it is. Coca-Cola is preparing to return to their pharmacological roots. During these persistent lockdowns it has been noted that there has been a sharp rise in the consumption of alcoholic beverages. The Coca-Cola Company has long eschewed alcohol brands, save for their brief foray into Taylor Wineries of New York back in the late ’70s, but they have been prompted to reconsider this. In a joint venture with an unnamed pharmaceutical company Coca-Cola plans to boldly go where no soft drink bottler has gone before. Only in Georgia could one find a state authority so utterly corrupted as to enable such an enterprise.

In preparation for lockdown 2021, which will come as a result of the “new” Covid mutation that is conveniently vaccine resistant, the Coca-Cola Bottling Co. NA will roll out a new product. This will be a cola based beverage with a 5% opiate solution, branded as Erace! (pronounced erase). This product will be packaged in a 40oz. bottle, not unlike the common 40oz. malt liquor. In testing trials it has been determined that the consumption of one 40oz. bottle of Erace! is the equivalent of three 5/500 tablets of vicodin. Erace! will be marketed strictly as an adult beverage with the full knowledge that kids will get their hands on it anyway. You didn’t hear this from me, but it is strongly suggested to those parents who plan on giving this to their children that they should dilute it with more conventional Coca-Cola products. I hear that it is quite good mixed with Coke Vanilla-Orange. I am told that this product will be on the shelves as early as April, with a distribution focus on gas stations and carryouts in Atlanta, Philadelphia, Detroit, Milwaukee, Minneapolis-St.Paul, Chicago, LA, San Francisco, Portland and Seattle. After a ninety day introductory phase it is expected that Erace! should be available nationwide, wherever the discriminating palate of malt liquor enthusiasts can be found.

Coca-Cola is nothing if not thorough in their marketing plans. With the introduction of any new product there is the need for this to be accompanied by a corresponding ad blitz. This of course includes the preparation of television commercials with a catchy jingle, contemporary music and a mural of our nation’s multi-cultural youth represented in an entirely imbalanced fashion. This formula for the commercial has less to do with any vision on the part of Coca-Cola and more to do with the prevailing tendencies of ad agencies to paint a picture of the marketplace which ignores the fact that two thirds of the country is still Caucasian.

So this is where the story went sideways. During the production of this commercial there was the one token white player of those actors assembled. She was of course a pale, emaciated ginger, one of the only portrayals of “whiteness” permitted by the current protocols of the industry. When the commercial hits the airwaves you will no doubt recognize the young woman as a previous player in advertisements for psoriasis remedies. The thirty second clip features a succession of young people enjoying the product against an urban backdrop, with each in their turn enthusiastically exclaiming the tag line “Get yo’ 40 on!”. Now this actress it seems had some difficulty in properly enunciating the “yo”. The word kept coming out as “yer”. After numerous frustrating takes the director admonished her to “this time try it a little less white. Get yo’ 40 on…..yo, yo….not yer. Okay?”

That one incident is where this entire narrative originated. See? You don’t have to go to twitter for context. It may not be as immediate, but you can obtain the needed context here. And you don’t have to worry about your account being suspended. You’re welcome.

Chairman Bi Deng’s first Sunday address

Dear Comrade Leader, Chairman Jo Bi Deng

My fellow Americans and soon to be Americans…. on this the first Sunday of our….you know, the…. the thing…our Glorious Revolution….that all Americans, dead or alive, are disenfranchised. You know I was talking to Dr. Pepper, that’s my sister…er, I mean that’s my wife. I was talking to Dr. Pepper this morning…after we had corn flakes, and I said “Hey, whatever happened to all those cookies you made for those dumb bastard pony soldiers” And then she said it’s Sunday! So I said “well sonofabitch”. I asked Vice Chairman Kameltoe Hairlip what she/they thought because Michelle was busy……

…. so it needs to be something spiritual, but inclusive, because you know it’s not just for good Catholics any more. But there is no denying it: America has had a long tradition of church stuff. That’s why we say God bless America. That’s not just for the christian god, but for all the other ones…I mean you can’t have a country that’s just blessed by one god because that is racist. We are committed to erasing racism, or “de-racing” the whites because they are generally the problem. You know the poor kids are just as smart, but they need our help. And that is what our New America is all about.

A New America needs a new spirituality and we encourage prayer, but we can not risk allowing prayers for evil against the State. Therefore, by executive order, I, Chairman Jo Bi Deng, hereby order that all prayers must be submitted for review by our fact checkers via Facebook. Further, all prayers must be properly addressed with the following conclusion:

WE Pray, in the name of the Father

Jo Bi Deng

and the Son

and the Crusty Spoogerag

AWOMAN

Greetings Comrade Leader

Now is the time to heal. Our Dear Comrade Leader is a healing figure. We must trust Him. We of the glorious People’s Administrative State of DC are calling on all LOYAL subjects to come and drink freely from His font of truth and freedom. Come and join in our journey to a glorious new and woke People’s Republic.

In this time of healing and unity Dear Comrade Leader calls upon us to show compassion and mercy to those whose eyes have yet been opened to the truth of Woke. All true acts of charity are anonymous. When you report them no one need ever know that this was your act of charity. And if they return from the re-education camps you can tell them then, if you wish. They will be thankful.

Now that we have all had twenty-four hours to get acquainted, let’s get down to business, shall we? Dear Comrade Leader gently suggests that you all lay upon your sides. He would prefer that it should be your left side, but whichever is comfortable for you. Whether right or left, laying upon your side will most relax the rectum. We shall then proceed with what we call “gaping therapy”, whereby the anus will be progressively stretched by a series of graduated butt plugs. This is a process which typically requires 14 to 30 days; in some rare instances longer.

In the event that Dear Comrade Leader should sniff your hair please do not grow alarmed. This only means that your are among His most beloved. Blessed are those who are sniffed by Dear Comrade Leader or any of the Revered and most Holy Bi Deng clan.

As you are nearing the end of this process, comrade, you will be visited by the local DHS Kommissar. After your anus has been thoroughly inspected the Kommissar will either issue a certificate for full insertion, or recommend further gaping therapy. We realize that this will be uncomfortable for most of you. Perhaps even painful for some. We don’t care. You do not get to take it up the ass with the dick that you choose. You take it up the ass with the dick you are given. By April you will all be amazed how much you can take up your ass. Even without lube.

ALL HAIL DEAR COMRADE LEADER!

Everything’s Hunky Dory

Any fool to wear the crown

No rusted hag in London Town

There’s a pair of Queens

and one of them is leaving her seat

They know what they’ve done

don’t care what they say on the street

He says he’s got the receipts, then he’s got the receipts

he don’t make false claims

There’s a taste in our mouth

and it’s no taste at all

She’s so witchy in her pantsuit and mask

No hard questions or she’ll take you to task

Oh God, we could do better than that