Last month I reported on the Chicago Poster War Project, a street art collaboration in response to the fifth anniversary of the war. Interest was huge; in fact, it got more hits than anything I've published this year.

The organizers, who still wish to remain anonymous, said the project went off without a glitch. About 30 artists fanned around town to wheatpaste posters on the night of March 18. Some posters were put up along the route of the mass march held on the following evening, but the crew managed to post artwork all the way from Pilsen to Rogers Park, with stops in the South Loop, Humboldt Park, Lakeview and several other neighborhoods along the way.

There were no encounters with the police, which could have led to vandalism charges. The Municipal Code of Chicago defines vandalism as:

[…] the willful or malicious destruction, injury, disfigurement or defacement of any public or private property. This offense includes, but is not limited to, cutting, tearing, breaking, marking, drawing, painting or etching when these actions are intended to or have the effect of causing damage to property.

The offense is punishable with a fine of up to $750, and while the Daley administration has been too busy with graffiti artists to pay posters much mind, the definition is vague enough that it could apply to the Poster War Project.

But the organizers are undeterred. This past weekend they had a booth at the Version>08 Festival's NFO XPO, where they displayed their work and gave away posters and wheatpaste to any takers.

They're hoping to have monthly printing sessions and keep up the project as long as possible. The video embedded above is helping spread the word, and a blog is in the works. "We signed up a lot of people who are interested in helping this weekend," said an organizer, holding up an address book with three pages filled with names and e-mail addresses. "We're hoping to make it a national project, trying to work with groups in other cities."

On nearby streets and corners fresh posters graced lampposts and city fixtures, exposing unsuspecting passerby on a perfect spring day to stylized expressions of anti-war sentiment.