B the change you wan2 C in the Rail

What? You don't like the Rail lately? Hey, me neither! It's gotten way too full of whatever it is you dislike. I totally agree.

But...  rather than abandoning the Rail to become even more full of whatever it is you dislike, why don't we work together to put more of what you like into the Rail?

That way, quality folks such as yourself will be drawn like shy volunteer-minded hummingbirds to the sweet nectar of whatever it is you like, and the goblins who thrive on the bitter ichor of whatever it is you dislike will move on to more ichorous pastures.

Everyone wins!

<3 <3 <3

FUCK THE VOTE

Voting at all represents compromise with the illegitimate systems imposed upon us, fuck it!

but

if you wanted to know what your fave embarrassing-older-brother figure the D-Block would recommend voting for regarding the LOCAL stuff (and the presidency) then click here for a non-Iron Rail-approved voter guide. Again let me stress this is not related to the collective, it's just one collective member's views (based on views of others).

UPDATED!!! AS OF 8:45 PM, NOW MORE ACCURATE! PLZ RE-PRINT IF YOU SAW IT BEFORE.

TAKE MY BREADTH AWAY

No more narrow column! Reject the aesthetic heresies of Funckism! Wide 'em, cowboy! I'm not into this corsetry crap... I need my elbow room! Awwwwww shit, you could drive a TRUCK through this motherfucker now... much more like it...

JAKES ON THE BLOCKS WE OUT-CLEVER

Here is a video showing a pair of pigs skulking along in a St. Paul poor people march. Keen eyes may spot other items of interest as well, and by 'items,' I mean awesome ion-beam sweethearts, and by awesome ion-beam sweethearts I don't really mean much at all because I'm too burned out to formulate a properly tedious and convoluted inside joke.

CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN

JOB OPPORTUNITY: Infiltrate Vegan Potlucks for the FBI

Some at the Iron Rail tend to follow a more continental diet-- black coffee, unfiltered cigarettes, discarded shrimp heads, and whatever middle-aged married businessmen buy for us at bars-- but if you're willing to leave the Clamato out of your beer for a meal or two, Uncle Sam wants YOU to rat out your skinnier, less diabetic fellow-citizens in the run-up to the RNC:

http://articles.citypages.com/2008-05-21/news/moles-wanted/

"What they were looking for, Carroll says, was an informant—someone to show up at 'vegan potlucks' throughout the Twin Cities and rub shoulders with RNC protestors, schmoozing his way into their inner circles, then reporting back to the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force,"

YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

--the d-block

SOTU 2008: "Curly Cue" Bush, Dick (head) Cheney and Lot Lizard

Just another night at the Iron Rail, another year looking at the projected versions of their beloved leaders: Bush, Cheney, Nancy Pelosi.

Classically acquiring the projector minutes before W heads into the house chambers, a crowd of nigh thirty witnessed another state of the union address while drinking high-life's and sharpie-ing the white board taped up in lieu of a projector screen.

Forever will we remember: the unibrow and french curly cue mustache drawn on W's upper lip; an exquisitely sharpied penis and testis on Cheney's forehead, ever slowly landing back on his baldness as the camera operator zoomed in; zzzz's for the napping, "resting eyes" has beens in the audience shots who can no longer stay up after 8pm; the spastic labeling of Pelosi as a "lot lizard"; and, last but not least, a small but formidable target symbol on W's forehead.

Throughout the speech, people hardly paid attention to his sentiments as lies were mocked and enthusiasm waned until the target symbol gave new found meaning to throwing dumpstered peppers wrapped in moist toilet paper at the target.

Though no one directly hit (Battleship!), there was a Bush pinata afterwards for baseball bat aggression. Candy splattered about and many dove for smarties. In one last hurrah, everybody played a quick game of unknown origin in the streets outside. From a spectactor's point of view, it was a perfect end to the evening: running, dodging, tagging, dramatic fake deaths and shrieks of euphoria.

Viva _____ !

--matt

(picture added 2/7 -coach)