I’d met Rowley in 2006, at her campaign fundraiser at my parents’ house. At the time, she seemed fierce and friendly, with a somewhat prim persona akin to her plaid-skirted appearance on the cover of TIME four years before. Now, a comfortably rumpled Rowley sidled into a courtroom seat with the more relaxed bearing of a street-level activist and occasional blogger. She had a stack of “Defend the RNC8!” postcards to pass out, and a lot to say.

Rowley recently submitted data requests about law enforcement during the 2008 Republican National Convention to the FBI (via the Freedom of Information Act) and to the Ramsey County Sheriff’s and St. Paul Police departments (through the Minnesota Government Data Practices Act). She expects to learn whether the surveillance and policing of 60 to 70 political organizations in St. Paul last September to protest the Republican National Convention (RNC)– as well as the surveillance of another 80 or so legal aids, independent media and artistic performance groups — was overly broad.

If it wasn’t, Rowley said that news will come as a relief to people like those she knows in CODEPINK who say they were pulled over repeatedly around the time of the RNC. But if the wide net she’s cast does snare examples of extra-constitutional overreaching, they’ll go into a book she’s working on with author William John Cox.

Rowley regaled me and Minnesota Public Radio’s Laura Yuen, who sat nearby, with stories about her early days as an FBI agent in the early 1980s. Hoover had died almost a decade (and several reform efforts) earlier, but his ghost still hovered over the Bureau. It was Rowley’s job to respond to the very sort of data requests she now has pending about the RNC. As we watched the defense attorneys from the National Lawyers Guild kibitz at the front of the courtroom, Rowley recalled that as an FBI agent she sat among stacks of files on the Guild’s members — a throwback to Hoover’s conviction that the Guild was a communist organization.

Back then, every new lead meant a new file, Rowley said. If folksinger Burl Ives threw a party, the next day everyone in attendance had an FBI file. She suspects that won’t be the case with the 150 groups about whom she’s requested records.

Rowley said she was always proud that the FBI fought public corruption as its top priority (it’s now the agency’s fourth priority, according to an FBI spokesman I talked to separately). I asked her about reports that the FBI is looking into allegations that businessman Nasser Kazeminy funneled money to U.S. Sen. Norm Coleman through a business he controls in Texas and Coleman’s wife’s employer in Minnesota. Does the FBI really open different levels of cases with some (like the Coleman cash question, reportedly) termed mere inquiries while others are full-fledged investigations? Rowley, who retired in 2004, said that in her day two levels of investigations did exist but the lesser was rarely used, and in any case the difference between them was nominal at best — you either had a case worth pursuing or you didn’t.

Rowley spoke in an elevated whisper — this being a courtroom, although the judge never appeared — that later put me in mind of the lower, hoarser whisper that actor Hal Holbrooke used in the “All the President’s Men” film to portray of Mark “Deep Throat” Felt, who had been Hoover’s second-in-command at the FBI. Felt died Thursday, having revealed himself as Deep Throat but taking with him any key to the internal contradictions of a man who helped engineer both the illegal surveillance on dissidents and the downfall of a president who put such dirty tricks to his own political ends. Next time I see her, I’ll ask how Rowley — who put her own livelihood at risk to root out wrongdoing within the FBI — how she felt about Felt.

The postcard Rowley was handing out this week.

At the Tilsner Artists’ Cooperative, where he’s lived on and off over the years, he shared a room a friend was renting out to people working for Indy Media and the Glass Bead Collective. “I spent the week with extremely freaked out and justifiably paranoid independent media people.”

He was getting “fog of war” reports all week. It was difficult to get the big picture — it still is.

So Parry — a songwriter, photojournalist and web designer — started a paper archive of everything that happened outside the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul. “I printed everything from Star Tribune reports to St. Paul City Council minutes.”

People he met during the convention who had stayed in town to work on a documentary about the RNC kept asking him about one document or another. “Finally I just decided to gather everything online.”

Parry has experience with this. He co-founded the website Electronic Intifada after his experiences in the West Bank. To this day, the site is an always-current archive of events in Palestine — often written by Palestinians themselves.

Parry’s current endeavor is RNC ‘08 Report. He calls it “a citizen’s archive of media reports, government documents and other resources.”

His collection, he insists, “is unprejudiced — it’s the widest possible range of sources because that’s what will be the most helpful. I’ve archived the Twitter feeds and I’ve archived Department of Defense press releases about the deployment of the national guard. I’ve got city press releases on the arrests of the RNC 8 and the press releases of the RNC Welcoming Committee.”

He’s still furiously adding to the site and wants people to tell him what he’s missing. His vision is nothing short of a total archive.

“The goal,” he says, “is clarity.”

Zach de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

“We want tits! We want tits!” came the chant from the floor before last night’s Rage Against the Machine concert at the Target Center. While Funk the War and other groups gave out radical literature from tables in the halls, young men voiced their simpler demand inside, and a young woman in the stands obliged them, as well as the rows behind her and to her right. Like any rock crowd, the Rage audience can quickly become the Jerry Springer audience. Yet some of the band’s appeal lies in the promise that this equation works in reverse.

Anti-Flag at Rage Against the Machine show on Sept. 3 (photo: Tony Nelson)

It wasn’t long before the nearly sold-out crowd was cheering those about to hop the barrier to the floor, a bit of authority-bucking that swelled the mosh pits. And when a female fan flashed openers Anti-Flag, bassist Chris #2 stopped the music to quip that there was probably a Blink-182 show down the street for that kind of thing.

Rage played nearly a dozen songs without mentioning the war, the RNC, or the growing and alarming police presence outside the arena. The band let anti-fascist songs such as “Bulls on Parade” (which they performed through a megaphone the day before at the St. Paul Capitol Grounds) speak for themselves, with only visual and musical clues to their revolutionary socialist gestalt: They took the stage wearing the orange jumpsuits and black hoods of War on Terror detainees, raised a giant red star behind them, and played “The Internationale” (in Russian, no less) over the PA before their encore.

Yet the momentousness of the music swept up even this Rage skeptic, who believes that Communists (like Republicans) are better for the world not being in power. The sight and sound of a suddenly illuminated coliseum full of kids shouting, “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” was undeniably powerful. At that moment, Rage were everything that makes them great: heavy as a planet, rallying as a P-Funk anthem, and deeply anti-authoritarian. The fact that frizzed-out singer Zack de la Rocha looked a little like Thing 1 or Thing 2 was just gravy.

Rage Against the Machine in orange jumpsuits during RNC (photo: Tony Nelson)

Zack de la Rocha and Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

The band more or less reunited to be here this week, a loud counter to the RNC’s week-long power grab on popular culture. (Which might explain why Rage is on somebody’s list: “Are you Rage Against the Machine?” the police asked them the day before at the capitol, according to members of Anti-Flag. “I don’t know,” was guitarist Tom Morello’s response.) Some speechifying at the concert was inevitable, and when it finally came, the words were carefully chosen.

“They’re concerned about a few people who broke a couple windows,” said de la Rocha to the audience. “They just broke two countries.”

Yet, perhaps sensing the Jerry Springer factor, de la Rocha closed with an appeal for coolness on the streets, in words that were part Gramsci, part MLK. “You know, in actuality, all these protests have been very peaceful, very in control. It’s really the police that have been out of control,” he said. “So when we leave here, let’s prove to them that we got more discipline than they do. Let’s show them that we’re willing to defend our rights here without any troubles, because they’re looking for shit tonight, they really are.”

Crowd at Rage Against the Machine Wednesday (photo: Tony Nelson)

Outside the Target Center, police in riot gear had entirely surrounded the building. An impromptu drum circle chanted, “Hey, Minneapolis, raise up your fists!” as the crowd poured out onto 1st Avenue and down the sidewalks, many stopping to take cell-phone pictures of the surreal spectacle of so much law enforcement. Before I could retrieve my bicycle across 2nd Avenue, an officer at the curb shouted to get to the other side of street, and pulled out his club. Though I smiled and kept going–”My bike is seriously right there,” I said–my hand was shaking when I unlocked it.

Peace sign outside (photo: Peter S. Scholtes)

Out in front of the building, a shirtless and visibly drunk Rage fan was yelling at a row of mounted police faced westward. The guy, who was eventually talked down by volunteer peace marshals for the week’s RNC protests, said something to the effect that he wanted only to have his own megaphone to disperse the crowd himself. (”You can arrest that guy,” joked Rage fans from the sidelines.)

After the police made the usual loudspeaker announcement to clear the streets in accordance with Minneapolis ordinance (adding a Robocop-esque “You have ten minutes to comply”), most people did, with a large crowd sticking around on the side to see what, if anything, would happen next. Soon the officers on horseback were gone, leaving behind only droppings for the stray downtown high heel to step in, and the remaining force eventually marched out as well, making way for traffic. Police arrested at least three people nearby, though I couldn’t confirm why (a mass arrest was going on a block away, though I didn’t know it at the time). When I tried to ask, one arresting officer said, “That’s not your concern,” while another threatened to arrest me if I didn’t leave.

In a way, for most fans, it was the perfect end to a Rage concert: defiance of arbitrary authority without painful consequences, just enough real danger to get the juices going. (”Fuck you, I will do what you tell me, but only after shouting at you for a while!”) But I was grateful that de la Rocha made his speech about not giving the police an excuse anyway. Though most people watched the street theater for what it was, police and protesters playing their roles, an excuse was all it would have taken to get ugly fast.

Atmosphere at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Allison Moorer and Steve Earle at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Billy Bragg at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Onstage performers invoked the names of Woody Guthrie, the Clash, and James Brown, among others, with Morello embodying the lineup’s unusual nexus of hip-hop and folk leftism as he took the stage with an acoustic guitar scrawled with the words “Whatever it takes” (a nod to Guthrie, who wrote “This machine kills fascists” on his). Covering Rage and bringing members of Iraq Veterans Against the War to the stage behind him, he somehow persuaded a sea of tattooed under-30-year-olds to sing and clap along to Guthrie’s clunky national anthem “This Land Is Your Land.” Bragg (who could later be seen head-bobbing to Atmosphere) had already told the crowd that the event reminded him of London’s Rock Against Racism show in 1978, where he first saw the Clash.

“Labor doesn’t belong to any country, any party,” he said.

Tom Morello at Take Back Labor Day with Iraq Veterans against the War (photo: Tony Nelson)

The Pharcyde at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Crowd at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Showtime and Myth, two b-boys on the grass near the stage, had never heard of Bragg or Steve Earle–they were here for Mos Def–but popped and locked to Earle’s DJ-accompanied rendition of the theme from HBO’s The Wire. (On that show, Earle plays the most iconic AA sponsor this side of Morgan Freeman in Clean and Sober.) Allison Moorer sang Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come.” And Mos Def (with his acting mentor Giancarlo Esposito in the wings) covered Brigadier Jerry’s “Jamaica Jamaica.” Atmosphere’s Slug dedicated “Yesterday,” a song for his late father, to George Carlin. Like the guitar says, whatever it takes.

Postscript: Not so peaceful. Most of us there didn’t know that arrests were taking place near the Wabasha Bridge down by the river within earshot of Atmosphere’s set–it was all over by the time I biked over. The irony is that the song, “Always Coming Back Home to You,” is partly about how relatively peaceful this city is. Watch the footage from theuptake above.

Here are some more photos from the show by Tony Nelson:

Steve Earle at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Atmosphere at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

The Pharcyde at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

See full-sized video.

“A woman straddling a large silver metal phallus, it’s hard to beat that,” remarked bystander Ian Rans. “I liked the people who were skipping,” he added. “They could have had a sign saying ‘It could be worse.’”

The recurring theme was defense of constitutional liberty. “This is a test of the emergency free speech system,” read a sign carried by Ben Masel of Madison, Wis. “If this had been an actual emergency, there would have been preemptive raids by the sheriff’s department,” he announced. Similar sentiments united a surprising array of participants, from Church of Scientology protesters Anonymous (wearing the Vendetta masks) to Ron Paul “freedom fighters.” (Who, for good measure, were answered by a Ron Paul sign with the word “SUCKS” painted across it.)

“It’s a very slippery slope with all this data-mining in this country,” said Texas Ron Paul backer Brian Bymark. “If you don’t do something now, you might not be able to do something later.”

Bymark said he won’t vote for either party’s candidate, citing Obama’s plans for escalation in Afghanistan. Masel, with the “free speech system” sign, said he’ll vote Obama, “but without falling in love.” Avram Leierwood, 16, in full zombie makeup, said he’ll support a Republican, but not McCain. “I’d vote for zombie Abraham Lincoln,” he said.

Full story inside.

Nine people were arrested following what was otherwise a peaceful and uneventful Veterans for Peace rally and march in St. Paul Sunday afternoon. The rally on the State Capitol lawn drew several hundred attendees, including a father pulling a flag-draped coffin commemorating his son who died in the Marines in Iraq, a contingent of Guantanamo Bay “prisoners” in black hoods and orange jumpsuits, and a 70-some-year-old nun who was arrested for civil disobedience.

The rally also attracted an unwelcome visit from five noisy and menacing Blackhawk military helicopters who used the occasion to circle over the capitol grounds and downtown several times in an obvious attempt to disrupt the activities.

Scores of St. Paul Police, Ramsey County Sheriff’s deputies and State Troopers were on hand as well but displayed admirable restraint, despite their intimidating presence.

Veterans for Peace activist David Harris of Red Wing led off a series of brief speeches in front of the capitol by various peace groups that included Women Against Military Madness (WAMM), the American Friends Service Committee and Code Pink.

“We’re going to be angry. But our anger is going to be something that leads to positive action,” Harris told the crowd. He then led the rally in a solemn march from the capitol toward the Xcel Center as he read aloud the names of soldiers and civilians killed in Iraq. The crowd responded to each name with “We will remember you.” Marchers also carried cardboard tombstones bearing the names of Iraq war victims.

A silent and powerful reminder of the human price of war rested on the capitol lawn off to the side of the stage: rows of worn combat boots and memorabilia commemorating Minnesota soldiers killed in the Iraq war. The display, “Eyes Wide Open,” is a project of the American Friends Service Committee and also features a collection of empty shoes honoring the deaths of Iraqi citizens. More boots from other states will be added to the traveling exhibit on the capitol lawn on Tuesday.

Joining the march downtown were a group of about 20 protesters from Tackling Torture at the Top, a committee of WAMM, dressed as Gitmo prisoners. Carlos Arredondo pulled a flag-draped coffin commemorating his son, Marine Corp L/Cpl Alexander Arredondo, who died in the Iraq war. Bruce Berry, a 1968 Vietnam War vet, carried a sign urging “Arrest Bush” on one side and “Arrest Cheney” on the other. Twenty-year-old Katelin Peck, a student at California State University in Monterey Bay, came all the way from California to protest with a pink parasol emblazoned with a peace symbol.

Drums beat a constant metronome beat that echoed against the building walls as the march wound down Cedar St. and up 7^th St. When they reached St. Peter, a contingent of marchers took an illegal detour down St. Peter and off the approved parade route in a planned act of civil disobedience.

Police allowed them to pass their line-up and escorted them down St. Peter, asking only that they to one side of the street. The marchers turned up 6^th St. to Washington St. between the Landmark Center and Travelers Insurance building. There, they ran into tall steel-mesh barricades that marked the perimeter of the sealed-off convention zone.

Several protesters, led by Harris, crawled under the barricades into a secured area on the back side of the Landmark Center. Two others, including Jeanne Hynes and Betty McKenzie, a nun, walked around the barrier into the secured area. All were met by baton-wielding, helmeted cops. A mostly symbolic attempt to get through the barrier on the other end of the area was thwarted by police, but that was the closest the entire event came to being the least bit disruptive.

After reinforcements were brought in—why they were needed wasn’t readily apparent—police escorted the civil disobedients into the Landmark Center. Still more police arrived on the scene—between 60 and 70 total by the end—and began clearing the intersection at 6^th and Washington until what remained of the marchers reversed course.

A much larger rally at the capitol—March on the RNC—begins at 11 a.m. Monday, September 1, and proceeds down the same route at 1 p.m.