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The anger of Illinois Republican state Rep. Mike Bost is spontaneous and raw.

In 2013, for example, he raged against a floor amendment to a concealed carry gun bill.

"Once again, your side of the aisle is trying to make ploys instead of dealing with the real issue!" a YouTube video shows him bellowing. "Keep playing games," he says. "Keep playing games."

YouTube

Now, Bost is running for a seat in Congress against first-term Rep. Bill Enyart, a retired general and Democrat, and Bost's anger has become a campaign issue.

Voters in the 12th Congressional District in southern Illinois are hearing a lot of another Bost rant, a furious harangue from 2012 about language inserted into a pension reform bill on the final day of the House session.

YouTube

"Enough! I feel like somebody trying to be released from Egypt! Let my people go!" he hollers. "These damn bills that come out of here all the damn time come out here at the last second and I've got to try figure out how to vote for my people!"

The video of those remarks went viral that year. In it, Bost is seen throwing the bill into the air. He whiffs at the pages as they fall, then picks up the papers and throws them again.

YouTube

Enyart is running ads that point to Bost's rant as proof that he doesn't belong in Congress. Using footage of the lawmaker's outbursts, the announcer says, "Mike Bost. Twenty years yelling. Twenty years being the problem."

YouTube

Bost has represented small towns in rural, conservative southern Illinois for nearly two decades. Many voters here see his fury as well-placed.

"I think this was appropriate," says Bost supporter Jill Bunyan of Bost's pension rant. "You can get angry, and that's OK. And I think at that time, for that few moments, that was an appropriate response."

Bunyan lives in the tiny town of Cobden, in southernmost Illinois, population 1,100. People in Bunyan's part of the district, which hugs the Mississippi River, are frustrated with the state's fiscal troubles and weak local economy.

But head north to some of the district's larger cities, like Belleville, population 44,000, and Bost's anger is embraced less and criticized more. Interviewed on Main Street, Richard Rockwell thinks "the rant" is all political theater.

"I'm hoping that's the reason, and not that he's acting the fool in a deliberative chamber," Rockwell says. "That would be rather disconcerting to me."

Bost, in his own ad, refers to a video of the rant and embraces it. He half smiles and explains in folksy fashion that he's angry about the direction his opponents are taking the country.

"What the Chicago politicians and Gov. Quinn have done really made me mad," Bost says. "And what Bill Enyart and President Obama are doing to our country upsets me as well."

YouTube

At The Greater Piney Grove Baptist Church in Atlanta, about 700 congregants jam the pews every Sunday morning at 10:30. The church is near the edge of DeKalb County, and it's helping lead a "Souls to the Polls" drive.

Georgia Democrat Michelle Nunn is running an extremely tight race for Senate against Republican David Perdue, and the difference between victory and defeat could ride on the African-American vote. The push is on to get voters to turn out early — especially at black churches.

This year, for the first time in Georgia's history, some polling places are open on Sundays. Pastor William Flippin Sr. urged his congregation to head straight to the polls right after the service this past Sunday.

"I don't know if you have voted already, but please know that it is your civic responsibility," Flippin said. "People died for us to have the right to vote."

Democrats are trying feverishly to avoid what happened in 2010. That year, there was abysmally low turnout among black voters, which happens often in midterm years. Core supporters for Democrats — like minorities, single women or young people — tend to drop off during the midterms.

In Georgia, more than a million African-Americans voted in the presidential elections of 2008 and 2012, but only 700,000 hit the polls in 2010. Democrats aren't taking their chances this year.

The Piney Grove church is in an area that is 55 percent African-American and therefore one part of Georgia that could help Nunn win the Senate seat this November. That's if people turn out to vote.

Former first lady Rosalynn Carter joined the congregation yesterday to help rally churchgoers to the polls and work to "help make Martin Luther King's dream become a reality in our state."

"We can do it, if we all work together, if we all go to vote, if we can be sure that all of our friends and relatives and neighbors go to vote, and vote early," Carter said.

Sunday voting caused some controversy in Georgia. Republicans grumbled about it giving Democrats a boost. But Flippin says it's only fair that black voters get a chance on Sundays to mobilize.

"Many of our people still do not have professional jobs that they can take off or go into work late. You know, most corporations — they allow you to come late or come early on Election Day. Well, if you're working in a factory or job like that, they can't take off," says Flippin.

Piney Grove worshippers loaded up on two church buses and, with a caravan of cars following, drove to the voter registration and elections office in Decatur to vote.

On the bus, Evelyn Jackson of nearby Ellenwood said she's voting this midterm because something has to be done about the rampant joblessness. Georgia has the highest unemployment rate in the country, and Jackson says you can't trust a Republican to fix that.

"Republicans ... they care about money, and they care about people in their echelon. And they don't care about people who are lower middle class or poor," said Jackson. "I know people, there's one of the ministers, who's been out of work for, like, three years."

When the buses arrived at the polling place, a stream of other worshippers from other black churches converged with Piney Grove.

Thirty percent of all registered voters in the state are African-American. Allen Davis, a nurse, wishes more black Georgians actually knew that.

"I think if they know how powerful their vote is, they'll come out and vote," Davis said.

One potential stumbling block to getting more African-Americans out to vote is that most Democrats have spent this fall distancing themselves from a president so many black voters admire. But Darryl Yarber says he understands the practicality of that strategy.

"African-Americans are a little bit more savvy than that. They know what's going on. They know the reasons for the distancing. That's a reason we have such a crowd right now," said Yarber. "They understand the game."

And Yarber says electing a Democrat who will barely acknowledge President Obama is still better than letting the other side win.

The anger of Illinois Republican state Rep. Mike Bost is spontaneous and raw.

In 2013, for example, he raged against a floor amendment to a concealed carry gun bill.

"Once again, your side of the aisle is trying to make ploys instead of dealing with the real issue!" a YouTube video shows him bellowing. "Keep playing games," he says. "Keep playing games."

YouTube

Now, Bost is running for a seat in Congress against first-term Rep. Bill Enyart, a retired general and Democrat, and Bost's anger has become a campaign issue.

Voters in the 12th Congressional District in southern Illinois are hearing a lot of another Bost rant, a furious harangue from 2012 about language inserted into a pension reform bill on the final day of the House session.

YouTube

"Enough! I feel like somebody trying to be released from Egypt! Let my people go!" he hollers. "These damn bills that come out of here all the damn time come out here at the last second and I've got to try figure out how to vote for my people!"

The video of those remarks went viral that year. In it, Bost is seen throwing the bill into the air. He whiffs at the pages as they fall, then picks up the papers and throws them again.

YouTube

Enyart is running ads that point to Bost's rant as proof that he doesn't belong in Congress. Using footage of the lawmaker's outbursts, the announcer says, "Mike Bost. Twenty years yelling. Twenty years being the problem."

YouTube

Bost has represented small towns in rural, conservative southern Illinois for nearly two decades. Many voters here see his fury as well-placed.

"I think this was appropriate," says Bost supporter Jill Bunyan of Bost's pension rant. "You can get angry, and that's OK. And I think at that time, for that few moments, that was an appropriate response."

Bunyan lives in the tiny town of Cobden, in southernmost Illinois, population 1,100. People in Bunyan's part of the district, which hugs the Mississippi River, are frustrated with the state's fiscal troubles and weak local economy.

But head north to some of the district's larger cities, like Belleville, population 44,000, and Bost's anger is embraced less and criticized more. Interviewed on Main Street, Richard Rockwell thinks "the rant" is all political theater.

"I'm hoping that's the reason, and not that he's acting the fool in a deliberative chamber," Rockwell says. "That would be rather disconcerting to me."

Bost, in his own ad, refers to a video of the rant and embraces it. He half smiles and explains in folksy fashion that he's angry about the direction his opponents are taking the country.

"What the Chicago politicians and Gov. Quinn have done really made me mad," Bost says. "And what Bill Enyart and President Obama are doing to our country upsets me as well."

YouTube

Republicans are trying to make inroads with African-Americans in the Deep South, who have voted overwhelmingly Democrat since the civil rights era. In Alabama, the GOP is fielding more black candidates this cycle than ever before. One of them is Darius Foster, who gained national attention with this viral video challenging racial and political expectations:

YouTube

In the video, a diverse group of men and women mouth the candidate's introduction: "Did you know while growing up we went half the winter without heat, or that I think best while listening to Frank Sinatra? The last concert I attended was Lil Wayne. Yes, Lil Wayne." It ends, "Do I really fit in a box? See you on the campaign trail."

Foster says he needs no reminder that he stands out. "With me, unfortunately, everything is black Republican. Not Darius did this, but the black Republican did that. So, you know."

With the bulky frame of a former linebacker and a warm, hearty laugh, Foster fashions himself as a Lincoln or Teddy Roosevelt Republican.

"The fight-for-the-people Republican. That's what they were. I'm not sure where the Democratic Party was able to hijack that narrative from us. But they did. And they have it. I'm trying to bring it back," he says.

Foster is a 33-year-old business consultant. He's been active in the GOP since he founded a lonely chapter of College Republicans at the historically black Miles College in Birmingham. He's been tapped by the Republican National Committee as a future leader.

Foster was raised by his grandmother, who forced him to vote a straight Democratic ticket the first time she took him to the polls. He says he went home and looked up political parties in the family's Encyclopaedia Britannica.

"I read through and went through all of them, I got to the Republican Party and I was just reading through the principles. My grandmother hates taxes. She doesn't do gay marriage," he says. "She's always taking about defending yourself and strong defense. And I said, 'Mom — you may be a Republican.' And she looked at me and walked off."

She's still a Democrat but has endorsed her grandson in his race for a state House seat representing part of suburban Birmingham. It includes the predominantly black city of Bessemer, where Foster spends a lot of time going door to door introducing himself.

Democrats have long represented this Alabama House district, which is about two-thirds African-American, giving his opponent, Louise Alexander, the advantage.

Foster knows he's up against some strong notions about the Republican Party. "I think they hear Republican they think of white men. And people who don't care about them and ... who don't understand them," he says.

What he calls "TV Republicans" — conservative pundits — are a thorn in his side, Foster says. And some of his fellow Alabamians haven't helped. Like the Republican state senator who referred to blacks as aborigines, or the congressman who declared that there was a war on whites.

Foster says he doesn't have to defend Republican principles — only Republicans. Especially those who are hostile to President Obama, who got 95 percent of the black vote in Alabama two years ago.

"And it's not saying that I agree with President Obama. I'm just saying that I can show somebody and talk to them about what it means to be a Republican and not mention President Obama's name at all. This is what being a Republican is. This is what being a conservative is," he says.

Over breakfast at their neighborhood IHOP, his wife, 28-year-old Setara Foster, a lawyer, talks about growing up black in Houston where her parents were union members and loyal Democrats.

She now identifies more closely with the GOP. But she says she tends to split her ticket.

"I think that when we as a group identify with one party, for one thing, all the time, that party never has to earn our vote. Ever. And so I think that by having a diversity of political ideology within ethnic, racial, gender, age groups, we force politicians to work," she says.

On the campaign trail, you won't hear Foster talk about Republicans or Democrats. Instead, he talks about how he's invested some of his campaign funds in community initiatives — technology for schools, shoes for a basketball team, hosting a local job fair.

The strategy has won some converts like Juanita Graham. "When this gentleman came along, I was a die-hard Democrat," she says. Graham owns a firm that offers inner-city students enhanced engineering and math courses. She first met Foster while she was working for his Democratic opponent.

"There were some preconceived notions; I will not lie. Because when you say Republican African-American, the first thing pops in most African-American minds is Uncle Tom, butt-kisser. I'm honest. That is the mindset," she says.

But when Foster helped her with startup funds, and talked about tackling Bessemer's low high school graduation rate, he earned her vote.

Graham says she's still a Democrat, though. And that's the real challenge for Foster and Republican leaders who hope to position the party for the future.