The speaker was explaining that we had come to Chevron's front door to stage a die-off on the black plastic "oil spill" to dramatize the need for change in the oil policy of our nation.

     

     

     

     

     

Next we cleaned up the "oil spill" and marched from Chevron's HQ to Exxon's HQ.

 

The sunlight was so bright my camera had what I would characterize as "spaz attacks". Every now and then it would white out and take a crummy picture. I could just feel the thing's squinting through aged light sensors.

  

As we marched along these people would lead us in chants. I took a picture of the chant sheets because they were clever and well thought out chants. No harm is done by braying them as you march along. In fact, you are being the media for everybody that gets it when you do. A lot of fun besides.

     

  

     

That banner reads "heal the planet - turn the tide on big oil".

  

     

At Exxon HQ a bunch of speakers talked about how Lisa Jackson needs to listen to this pile of letters she is going to get asking her to do something about climate change and oil spills.

Then we marched to BP headquarters.

  

  

  

     

  

        

        

BP's crimes are so heinous that a bunch of people had decided to get arrested to make their opposition a point of law. One crew blocked the entrance to the building.

     

Another group sat down in the middle of the intersection around that parachute they had been playing with. This group was surrounded by cops. Their leader made some big speech declaring those who remained in the intersection after a brief but dignified delay (my words not his) would be arrested.

     

Then we started waiting. For a few seconds this involved watching, but soon enough it turned into listening to speakers and mingling and so forth.

  

The people that didn't want to get cited and pay a fine for blocking traffic or whatever stood back and watched from a safe distance.

  

Then one by one the intersection blockers would listen to a private speech and get handcuffed and hauled away.

     

Once the protesters that had backed up traffic were gone the waiting vehicles drove through. Then the intersection was really empty for a few seconds before the situation returned to normal.

  

Meanwhile, the crews in front of the entrance were still waiting. One by one a variety of speakers took turns running down the sound system's battery. This guy was a poet from Berkeley. He made our efforts sound like the antidote to the business as usual being perpetuated by the people inside the building and the government controlled from Washington DC by the status quo.

  

The guy in the DEFEND THE COAST shirt had been part of the cleanup crew. He had a bunch of questions for BP. Things like "why have my fingers been numb since I picked up all that oil?", "Why can't all the fishermen who live in Louisiana fish for a living any more?" and "Why have so many fish and birds died?" It hurt to just listen to him.