Last Sunday the Electronic Frontier Foundation had a birthday party. That wild teenager’s 15 years old now.

The EFF is one of many amazing NGO groups in The City working for progressive social change. They’re responsible for shaping the internet into what it’s become. They’ve done this in a way that’s beyond any other group involved in cyberspace. John Perry Barlow (co-founder) was actually the first person to apply the term cyberspace to the internet.

They defend your right to freedom on the internet. They support development of projects like Tor. Tor is a program that allows you participate in an anonymous onion routing network. You can use tor to help anonymize your websurfing, your use of IRC and most other internet communications.

They defend programmers and other digital artists. They go to court when the RIAA sues people for using P2P software. They’ll listen, they’ll offer advice and they’ll help you. They’ve helped me countless times.

If you work with computers or value freedom on the internet, I suggest you support the EFF either by becoming a member or by donating your time.

The entire set of my photos can be found on flickr.

How many mirrors can a bike have? Over 24 in this case!

It’s scooter weekend in San Francisco. Tag your photos with ’scooter’ and blog about it!

So while all of SF metbloggers were out drinking at a house of ill repute, many of the local activists were fighting to save the planet.

The battle was Greenpeace and Energy Action versus the courageous Ruckus Society and the talented Rainforest Action Network.

The battle ground: Speedway Meadow in Golden Gate park.
The stakes: Ending up really really drunk and probably covered in grass stains.

The winners would be decided after a five round kickball match ending with something not unlike a frat party; a long run off of keg stands.

You see to play, you had to hold a cup in your hands; a cup full of the sweet sweet nectar of the gods! Many a cup of beer was splashed as players were pegged with the kickball. Many people heckled, someone even brought out the bullhorn and fired away with insults.

At some point, I decided that I was going to be a switch team player but that I was going to do it in a spectacular manner. You see underneath my Greenpeace shirt I was actually wearing a Rainforest Action Network shirt. I was an insider ready to exploit. I waited until the bases were loaded and then I told the player to bunt.

Goodness me, I was eager and perhaps a little tipsy. The player believed I was actually on his team, he bunted and I grabbed the ball. I took off my Greenpeace shirt and I yelled for everyone to storm home plate.

Then I realized everyone was just staring at me and I had blown my cover so that I could catch what was apparently a foul ball. Way to go, whoo!

Despite even my best efforts to throw the game into my teams favor, we still were horribly beaten.

Favorite moments included:

• RAN decided that they didn’t want to let GP score anymore and they stormed the home plate. Of course they screamed the famous chant: “This is what democracy looks like.” The sit-in lasted about ten minutes and eventually ended with a chug off. Greenpeace has some amazing drinking ability. One of their team members was able to just open the hatch and pour the entire cup of beer in one gulp. I’m pretty sure no one expected it and since we’re good to our word, we ended the sit-in.
• Overheard on the bullhorn: “Greenpeace, winning at kickball, losing at everything else.”
• Also overheard on the bullhorn (something like this): “Greenpeace, do you hear the whales crying? They cry for your ability to play. Save Greenpeace!”

At the end, I somehow ended up doing a keg stand for the first time in my life and holy jesus christ was I drunk afterward. I held out for 49 seconds and then I had to run the bases. My knees are sore from falling over. Get your mind out of the gutter, I said I fell.

Surprisingly someone from Greenpeace beat us even at getting drunk and their team was able to hold out for 60 seconds on the keg stand. I bet that guy has a worse headache than I do at this point.

So to recap: Greenpeace lost and they’re sore losers. We love them anyway.

Rumor has it we’re going to have a rematch.

Today’s wacky event was a priate battle in Golden Gate park. This was similar to the zombie flashmob but it was pirates fighting on Stow lake. It was a birthday party for our dear friend Nifer. Most of the people that were around the lake enjoyed the show but found it strange that we weren’t part of a theater group.

I’ve posted the full set of photos on flickr.

By god at this point, we had a ROT of zombies. That’s what you call a gathering of shamblers that eat brains. A rot.

The zombies continued their rampage and they made it to the trolley cars of Powell street. At this point, I was separated from a number of the zombies for my own safety. They had attempted to eat me despite my camera blocking their pathetic attempts. I ran for my life and the group split in two. They followed to Union Square where they continued to eat innocent bystanders. I got word from a friend being chased by the other zombies that she was safe for the moment at Powell Street station. I ran to distract the other zombies in hopes they would leave the other poor people alone. When I made it back to the station, I found that I was trapped. My friend had been caught and she was turned. I ran for my life.

I was able to get back to Union square where I ran into the St. Francis Drake. Apparently the zombies got wind of this because someone mentioned a labor strike that was broken. Fresh scabs you see. They infested the hotel lobby and i ran through the theater conference in hopes of escaping but I was followed. I was able to evade them again but I ran into their leader at the door to the hotel while running. They again followed me into Union Square where I ran this time towards a different entrance to the local MUNI.

I received word that a local apple store was near. I knew that if I went into the store, I would be able to escape. They would see the Genius bar and be tricked into eating their differently thinking large brains. While this did fool the zombies briefly, it did not last for long. They caught me leaving the store. Only by the brim of my hat was I able to escape as I beat one of them to death with it? What is it when you beat a zombie until it stops twitching? They were so close, I could smell everyone of them. It was horrifying. I was panicking and I was covered in blood.

I ran into the MUNI station and I realized they thought I was one of them. I lead them to the BART station. I explained in a few grunts and motions how to purchase a ticket. They used their money wisely and bought return tickets much to my dismay. I was hoping and wishing that my trick to leave them in Colma would work but I knew I was already foiled. I had to at the very least get them away from the public. I hope that if I could lead them onto the train and bring them to Colma, I could at least escape with my life.

While we waited for the train, the zombies began to eat children. I said, “think of the children! Stop! Stop! Is nothing scared?!” Clearly the zombies knew that children are the freshest source of blood. I was surprised that Jesus didn’t show up or Lazarus for that matter. What with those two being the first zombies ever. Or were they vampires? I forget.

Where was I?

Oh yes. Then the police came.

We were surrounded by the police in the BART station. They had white plastic latex gloves on and were obviously there on some business. The little children zombies were fighting to eat their soon to be undead friends. The police looked to me as if I was responsible. Little did they know how close they were to death. These zombies would eat their brains if they had any. Lucky for the police, when they asked me where the seizure victim was, I knew they had none. It was hard for me to withhold my laughter when they inquired about the seizure victim. Obviously they missed out on the pack of zombies now pounding on a newly arrived BART train directly in front of them. Someone had reported them as if they weren’t purposely eating peoples brains.

When the doors of the next Colma bound BART opened, I ran inside. The zombies followed because I had shouted BRAINS BRAINS BRRRAAAIINNS BRRRRRRAAAAAIIIIINNNNSSSSS. Once inside the car, they turned more people into zombies. More innocent lives were lost and I will live forever with this guilt.

When we arrived at Colma, they were confused. They saw no people and they could taste no more fresh brains. When they saw me waiting for the next San Francisco bound train, I knew I was cooked. I was as good as eaten. Luckily for me the train arrived shortly after they began their jaunt down the stairs to eat my brains.

As the train pulled away, I signaled to a police officer who saw the zombie horde coming directly at me. The doors had closed and he didn’t fire a shot to save me. The bastard. I was able to run through the train and avoid them. I tried to warn the other on the train but no one listened. Once they saw the zombies, they screamed. One sleeping man looked as if he would have a heart attack and yet he was entirely silent when he wet his pants.

I continued my run through the train. When I reached the end of the train, I was able to fake being already dead. They surrounded me but all of them began to lounge. They made zombie lounge sounds. Something like “Brraaaainnnsssss.”

When I heard this tone of brains being said, I knew their plan. They were going to eat the people in the Mission district. Their plan was to go to Pancho-Brain-Oh. I’m sure this wasn’t the correct name but apparently it has vegetarian brains. Vegan zombies!

When they exited the BART, I pretended to be one of them. They were so slow they didn’t even know that I wasn’t. Amazing.

At this point, many questions came into my mind. Where did they come from and why do they like Mexican food? Why is it that I’m wearing this stupid Panama hat covered in blood?

We made it to Pancho Villa on 16th and Valencia. I explained to my zombie friends how to wait in line. Nearly all of them ate Vegetarian burritos.

Suddenly, I saw something strange, one of them put their face on the table. Then the next and the next and the next. As suddenly as they had come alive, they had dropped dead from lack of tasty flesh in their mouth.

This time, I was able to escape in a leisurely manner and come home to wash all the blood off.

With great regret,
Jacob Appelbaum

Photos located here:
http://flickr.com/photos/ioerror/sets/685972/
http://crypto.nsa.org/zombies/
http://crypto.nsa.org/zombies/zombies.html

I received a message from the brain eating master today:

“We’re trying to create a self perpetuating Zombie Mob in the streets of San Francisco on Saturday (Saturday, July 30th). A seed group of zombies will start at St. Mary’s square, and as we march up Market St. we’ll attack Willing bystanders, converting them and giving them ingredients to make more zombies. We’ll end up at Union Square,
Eat tourists, then eventually hop a train to Colma for a Picnic in the Cemetary. There’s a reception afterword at Launchpad with Blood Wrestling and Zombie Olympics, then Movies and Music. See http://eatbrains.com to get involved.”

If you need makeup for the event or some limbs to munch on, you can contact their leader via email.