At approximately 11:45 pm PCT (10-4-2000), the F.L.F. successfully stormed the Foothills from the main campus gate adjacent to the intersection of Campus Drive East and Junipero Serra Blvd. We met with absolutely no resistance as the university simultaneously demonstrated its admirable commitment to our freedom of expression as well as its apparent and sadly unsurprising desire to keep this area of controversy and conflict out of the public eye. Perhaps the tactic of a nighttime invasion during which the precious reputation of the administration could be obscured by the dark blanket of fog that spread itself over the entire bay area as we climbed towards our destination and as the administrators slept did not achieve the most widespread and noticeable sort of publicity; however, the crisp, clear morning that greeted the foothills, the administration, the community at large on Thursday morning seemed to confirm the incontestable proof that a blow had been struck in the name of accountability and openness.

The proud and jubilant F.L.F. forces displayed a heartfelt commitment to the ideals of community and conservation that the invasion adamantly supported with its actions. Drums, mouth harps, flutes, small horns, and enjoyable conversation echoed through the sectors of campus through which the march snaked its way towards the foothills area gate. There was even some lively interaction with the brothers of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity who expressed their regret at having to stay in and finish their homework while the marchers got to have all the fun (We love you S.A.E.!!).

The no-show of the fuzz made hopping the gate blocking our path to the dish trail a much simpler affair than it might otherwise have been, and as individuals poured over the gate, stepping on "No Trespassing" signs as they went, a wave of energy spread through the group. Everyone walked peacefully up the trail, tasting the savory night air of the foothills lightly peppered with a spoonful of victorious satisfaction. A cheer went up as the freshman were officially welcomed to their first nocturnal experience of the foothill area.

Upon reaching the infamous dish, the group sat down and circled up around the drummers who continued to play for some time. There could be no denying that we had accomplished our goals and achieved complete success in spite of the official efforts to downplay the importance and vitality of the event. The foothills had, for a brief hour or two, been liberated, and while the lights that glowed in the valley below may have just been the unfortunate result of the uncontrolled suburban sprawl that plagues this vicinity of our nation, the gentle luminescence that emanated upwards and guided our steps as we strode blissfully downward and back into the concrete jungle that awaited us, may have been a sign from the natural forces of good in the universe that this night would live on in our collective memory for years to come.

The Revolution WILL NOT be televised!