Massive Political Corruption Across Illinois Has A Namesake Beer

BLUE ISLAND — If the Chance the Snapper saga taught me anything it’s that people seem to like local news better if you can accessorize it with a T-shirt, bobblehead or tote bag.

Over the last few weeks, corruption hunting FBI agents have shockingly surfaced — at the offices of sitting aldermen, and the homes of clout-heavy insiders — like an out of place alligator in the Humboldt Park lagoon.

The feds raided Ald. Carrie Austin’s office, the homes of former Southwest Side Ald. Michael R. Zalewski, and the “insider of insiders” former ComEd lobbyist Michael McClain, part of what’s been called a “surgical strike” of Illinois House Speaker Michael Madigan’s close confidantes.

It all seems tied to the wide-ranging corruption probe that has already lead to the indictment of long-time Ald. Ed Burke for shaking down a Burger King owner, and the public embarrassment of a former ward boss with a penchant for happy-ending massage parlors. FBI mole Danny Solis, that is.

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Despite all of that, and the looming threat of federal investigators still lurking in the dark corners of City Hall and the Illinois state house, the huge on-going corruption hunt hasn’t elicited the kind of palpable public excitement inspired by a pet alligator some idiot dumped in Humboldt Park.

Would more people be interested in the massive federal probe that could change Chicago’s corrupt political landscape if news story included a link you could click to buy Chicago corruption merch?

Maybe a “Got Fries With That Shakedown” T-shirt, with featuring a charming caricature of Burke wearing a Burger King crown would be a big seller.

Or a Speaker Madigan tote bag that from a distance looks like one of those old-school, cash-stuffed manila envelopes popular with ward-boss bagmen around the time he entered politics at age 27 in 1969.

Certainly, a handful of sickos would buy a Danny Solis “wearing a wire at the massage parlor” bobblehead sponsored by Viagra.

A self-proclaimed advertising know-it-all explained to me that Chicago corruption has been around for so long that it just doesn’t have the marketing potential to match the star power of a rogue gator named after Chance the Rapper.

“Chicago corruption doesn’t inspire shopping,” the guy said. “It makes you want to drink. A lot. Hey, wanna get a beer?”

“That’s it,” I said. “There should be an Official Beer of Chicago Corruption.”

And as a drinker’s luck would have it, I happened upon a perfect brew about a mile from the Chicago’s southern border on Olde Western Avenue at Blue Island Beer Company.

It’s called, wait for it, Massive Political Corruption Amber Ale.

At the Blue Island Brewery tap room, I tried to start a rumor: “This is the official beer of Chicago politics.”

But the guy behind the bar quickly quashed my Chicago-centric campaign.

“This beer speaks for all levels of government in Illinois,” brewery co-founder Alan Cromwell said. “From Chicago to Chicago Heights, Harvey to downstate small towns, they’ve got all these stories about knuckleheads in office that people keep voting in office over-and-over again no matter what they get caught doing.”

“Massive Political Corruption Amber Ale,” I declared, pausing to swig the malty pre-prohibition brew before correcting myself. “The official beer of corrupt Illinois politics.”

I asked Cromwell if he’d send a couple cases to a Chicago City Council meeting, Ed Burke’s place or wherever Danny Solis is hiding. Ald. Austin lives near me. I told Cromwell I could drop off a sixer on her stoop.

“Nah. We’ve got friends of friends who are, well, you know, in politics,” he said before quickly changing the subject. “You want another?”

I suggested offering fed-up voters from Illinois’ most corrupt towns a discount on Massive Political Corruption Amber Ale, but he didn’t like that idea, either.

Later, after I stopped making Cromwell nervous, he told me the name for Blue Island Brewing Co.’s flagship malt-forward American Amber was actually inspired by filmmaker Ken Burns’ documentary series “Prohibition” when the brewery opened in 2015.

“But in a state with so many felonious governors, the name is appropriate for that reason, too. No denying that,” he relented. “Citizens deserve better. There’s enough corruption to drive you to drink beer.”

Crowley poured me another.