The Misadventures of Cooper Jo Frederick: When Political Tantrums Meet Molotov Cocktails

Published: April 14, 2025

By: R. House

In a plot twist that could only be dreamed up by a B-movie screenwriter with a grudge against electric cars, 24-year-old Cooper Jo Frederick of Fort Collins, Colorado, has officially cemented his status as the poster child for "protests gone hilariously wrong." On March 7, 2025, this self-styled revolutionary decided to take his apparent disdain for Tesla to a whole new level of absurdity by allegedly chucking an incendiary device at a Loveland Tesla dealership. Because nothing screams "I’m mad at the system" like setting fire to a parking lot full of luxury EVs, right?

Let’s paint the scene: it’s just after midnight, and while most of us are either sleeping or binge-watching something mindless, Cooper’s out there living his best anarchist life. Armed with what police described as an "incendiary device" (fancy talk for a homemade firebomb), he hurls it with all the grace of a toddler throwing a tantrum. The device lands—wait for it—between two Teslas, sparking a fire that thankfully didn’t turn the dealership into a Michael Bay explosion sequence. A quick-thinking cop extinguished the blaze, leaving Cooper’s grand statement more of a damp fizzle than a fiery manifesto.

Now, let’s get to the juicy part: the why. Rumor has it—and by rumor, I mean the growing pile of evidence from Tesla-targeted vandalism across the country—that Cooper’s little stunt might be tied to his feelings about Elon Musk and the billionaire’s latest gig running the Department of Government Efficiency. Yes, folks, this wasn’t just a random act of pyromania; it was a political statement. Apparently, Cooper’s so upset about Musk’s cost-cutting crusade in the federal government that he decided the best way to express his outrage was to lob a Molotov cocktail at a car showroom. Move over, Gandhi—there’s a new pacifist in town, and he’s got a lighter and a bad attitude.

The charges piling up against our boy Cooper are almost as entertaining as his logic. We’re talking felony counts like "use of an explosive or incendiary device during a felony" (Class 2, for those keeping score), "possession of explosives," "second-degree arson," and "criminal mischief." Oh, and a bonus "criminal attempt to commit a felony," because why not go for the full bingo card? If convicted, he could be looking at decades behind bars—plenty of time to workshop better ways to air his grievances, like maybe writing a strongly worded tweet instead.

But let’s not give Cooper too much credit for originality. He’s not even the first to take a swing at this particular Tesla dealership. Just weeks earlier, another genius, Lucy Grace Nelson, was nabbed for a similar spree of vandalism and firebombing at the same location, complete with spray-painted gems like "NAZI CARS" on the windows. It seems Loveland’s Tesla outpost is the hottest spot for politically charged meltdowns this side of the Rockies. Maybe they should start charging admission.

What’s truly laughable here is the disconnect. Cooper and his ilk seem to think torching a Tesla dealership is some grand blow against Musk’s empire or Trump’s administration. Newsflash, buddy: Elon’s probably too busy tweeting memes from his private jet to notice your backyard chemistry experiment. And the Department of Government Efficiency? They’re not exactly trembling in their loafers over a singed Model Y. If anything, you’ve just given Musk another excuse to play the victim card while he sips a $20 latte.

So here’s to you, Cooper Jo Frederick: the guy who turned a political grudge into a one-way ticket to the Larimer County Jail. Next time you’re feeling salty about the state of the world, maybe try a protest sign or a blog post. Or, you know, just take a nap—because this whole "arson as activism" thing? It’s not working out for you, champ. Better luck in the slammer!