What would happen if Monty Python ran the Peace Corps? It might look a lot like the Washington Street Liberation Army, a Facebook group and gang of "socialist" bogeymen roughly organized by longtime Athenians Ryan Lewis and Andy Rusk.

Rusk, a carpenter in the film industry, and Lewis, a graphic designer, formed the group as a response to right-wing hackles raised by Congressman Paul Broun, Jr.’s “steamroller of socialism” campaign and as “a lens through which to view the conservative backlash” fomenting in “post-Obama America.” Rusk and Lewis wanted to raise an army of “guys that Paul Broun supporters love to hate”: liberals. But instead of holding death panels and stripping away gun rights, their “socialist army,” a mix of townies and “creative weirdos,” holds food drives and takes blankets to homeless people.

“I’m not a socialist, or a communist, and I don’t think anybody in the group is—if they are, then more power to them. We’re just throwing it back in [conservatives’] faces,” says Rusk.

At first, just a small group carpooling to our U.S. representative’s health care town hall meetings, the Army gained traction both locally and nationally after video of Lewis shaking a bag of his kidney stones at Broun went viral, even scoring views on MSNBC. Sensing the potential of the newly formed network of activists, the group boosted its theatrics by donning berets and lifting graphic elements from Black Panther/ Che Guevara-style counterculture for their propaganda.

In less than six months of existence, the WSLA has become a force for civic good—all without giving up their “incurable smartass” status. By mixing fundraising with disco (a dance party and canned food drive to benefit AIDS Athens) and participation with rewards (one-inch logo buttons), they’ve made “activism available to the Washington Street kids.” In an email, Clarke County Commissioner Kelly Girtz commended the WSLA for their ability to “engage in issues discussion with some playful ’wink and nod’ rhetoric without veering into discussion-poisoning territory” and welcomed the put-to-good-use theatrics.

This winter the army declared a "War on Christmas": they delivered cooked meals to the Athens Area Homeless Shelter, collected toys in a partnership drive with AIDS Athens and sponsored a Project Safe family. And as temperatures turned freezing in early January, Army volunteers hauled firewood, bottled water and blankets up to the Lexington Road homeless camp known as tent city.

As to whether or not the Army is concerned about duplicating services or stepping on the toes of non-profits, Rusk says he doesn’t want to get in the way of or trump the work others do. Although Lewis likes to think of the Army as an “immediate response team,” the WSLA doesn’t believe they could ever fill gaps in needs; they’re just creating a comfortable, familiar forum of activism for a crowd that isn’t usually civically involved.

“There’s a lot of young people in Athens who don’t really move far enough outside their circles to get involved, be it political or humanitarian,” Rusk says.

Social activism isn’t hard to do, the WSLA says, and breaking down barriers to participation is a vital group mission. With over 400 members, the workload, which might normally require a full-time employee or a gang of retirees, is never a “deal breaker.” For example, following the recent devastation in Haiti, WSLA reacted simply by setting up a homemade Doctors Without Borders donation box at Ciné (the headquarters for the group’s weekly “socialist movie nights”) that raised well over $100 in its first evening.

WSLA member Danielle Robarge, a webmaster at UGA, marshaled the group’s “Sponsor a Family” campaign through Project Safe by posting a wish list of gifts onto the Facebook page. “People sometimes can only do so much,” says Robarge in an email, and the use of the social networking site allows Army members to choose a level of involvement that fits their schedules.

The page and the group have become, as far as issues and activism are concerned, a “clearinghouse of ideas,” according to Rusk. Members can propose projects on the site, hash out logistics with interested parties and then take it to the streets. Current ideas floating around: a community garden; a bugle corps; a “Tornado of Toiletries” campaign collecting hygienic products for homeless women; and even firearm safety classes for this pinko commie fighting force.

Ultimately, if you want people to get active, you’ve got to make it attractive, say Rusk and Lewis. Many WSLA members weren’t previously into activism because they found it boring, they weren’t comfortable with religious organizations or they hadn’t yet found the right gateway. “If you’re going to have a toy drive and you want young people to get hip to it, don’t do it at a church at 10 in the morning—do it a bar on a Friday night,” Rusk says.

Since the “nexus of the group is political,” its members plan on turning their eyes to local elections, but not in a traditional, “king-making,” political party-driven manner. Army members, it’s hoped, will use the Facebook page and the network to discuss candidates and issues. Rusk, who ran for mayor of Athens in 2006 as “the no bullshit candidate,” says he intends for there to be plenty of open forum time before the weekly film screenings. And while Lewis plans to voice his opinions on who should be mayor and why, he says he’d be disappointed if members didn’t think it was their duty to figure it all out on their own.

Rusk and Lewis admit it’s preposterous for anyone to want to court a WSLA endorsement. For one, if the WSLA agrees with you, they will loudly agree, attracting the attention of voters who may not get the button/beret humor. They would hate for that to hinder a candidate they want to get behind. Second, if they disagree with you, they will loudly disagree. If you mess up as a candidate, they will turn on you.

“Getting the WSLA involved can be a double-edged sword,” Lewis says. Nonetheless, a WSLA member, as yet unnamed, will be running for the ACC Commission in an as-yet-unnamed district—though not with any proper affiliation to the group. Mayoral candidate Brandon Shinholser has joined the Facebook group, and after reading about the Army in The Red and Black, UGA student and mayoral candidate Glenn Stegall contacted Lewis.

Although he hasn’t officially announced his candidacy, Spencer Frye is Lewis and Rusk’s pick for mayor. Frye trekked up to tent city with the WSLA, and the experience, in addition to other interactions with Frye, the executive director of Habitat for Humanity, “impressed the hell” out of Rusk. Lewis, who says a Nancy Denson or Charlie Maddox mayorship will happen “over [his] dead body,” has donated his graphic design skills to the unofficial Frye campaign.

He is prepared to lend more than that to the prospective campaign of his choice for Paul Broun’s Georgia U.S. Congressional District 10 seat: Rusk. Though at press time Rusk had not commented publicly on the matter, Lewis has launched a push to “draft” him to run against the WSLA’s bête noire. Will Rusk do it? “That’s a good question,” says Lewis. “I don’t know… what kind of person would it take to beat Paul Broun and be decent? On paper, Andy seems like the perfect guy for that. It sort of seems perfect—he might end up killing me for this, but whatever.”

Who does the rest of the WSLA want to see in office? While neither Lewis nor Rusk would ever speak for the group, Rusk has some general ideas for what the Washington Street Liberation Army wants for Athens: they want to see Star Wars on a big screen again; they want a return to the dollar PBR; they probably don’t want people sleeping in tents because they don’t have any other place to go; and they don’t want children spending Christmas in homeless shelters on Barber Street.

“For all the bravado, all the machismo and the funny hats—it’s just people who care enough about this town to work toward the common good and wise enough to have fun doing it,” says Rusk.

Andre Gallant