(Zombie’s reports are cross-posted at Pajamas Media.)

Unstoppable force…

…meet immovable object.

But wait: how did we get to this point?

Word had disseminated among the protest crowd that there was to be an “Anti-capitalist march” as well as a “Meet-up for Fundraiser Disruption” jointly announced by Recreate 68 and DNC Disruption 08, two radical groups dedicated to causing problems at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. A notice online said, “Interested parties will gather at 6pm at civic center park” where “top-secret information on a couple of the choicest fundraisers and parties in Denver” was to be handed out. Then, “at the appointed time monday night, we’ll emerge from the shadows to reconvene in downtown and get down and dirty.”

So every anarchist and ne’er-do-well in Denver gathered in Civic Center Park at 6pm sharp, looking for action. Problem was, no action was immediately forthcoming.

Everybody milled around for over an hour, wondering what was supposed to happen. Glenn Spagnulo and Mark Cohen, the head honchos of Recreate 68, weren’t revealing anything, even though many people pestered them with questions.

An unfortunate side effect of announcing your riot on the Internet is that the police can see the announcement as well. As a result, squads of cops milled through the crowd, looking for troublemakers.

Some of the radicals had collected urine in bags (seen at the bottom of this photo) to later throw at the police (seen at the top).

Finally a horn was sounded and a jolt of excitement moved through the crowd. The moment had arrived! Hundreds of anarchists formed a procession…

…and started heading in the direction of downtown Denver.

But the police were obviously on strict orders to not let these rioters anywhere even near the fundraisers and delegate parties being held in upscale hotels and restaurants just a few blocks away. They formed a blockade to stop the procession from advancing.

Which is where we were at the top of this report. Now, moving forward…

The first confrontation between the cops and the anarchists was very brief — less than half a minute, with decisive victory for the cops, who drove the anarchists (and hapless photographers) back. [Video coming soon!]

It was during this first encounter that someone (a policeman trying to drive back the onrushing crowd, presumbly) let loose a blast of pepper spray, some of which got in my left eye and throat.

The anarchists tried to turn around and leave the park from a different direction, and bumped smack into a smaller and more easily overwhelmed cluster of police. The first screams and thwacks of violence were heard and everyone came running.

It seems everyone had a camera — there was no clear distinction between rioter, journalist and bystander. (A fact which led to serious problems for me later.)

Someone had gotten into a scuffle with the police and was being arrested. Everyone screamed “Police brutality” and tried to stop the arrest. Reinforcement police formed a protective cordon around the arresting officers.

Here’s the first arrestee, face down on the asphalt, being handcuffed. I didn’t see what he had done.

A substantial number of the cops were policewomen, which surprised me. They seemed just as tough as the men.

By now huge number of reinforcements had shown up (on both sides of the conflict), and police took decisive action to retake the street and keep the crowd contained within Civic Center Park. They waded into the crowd in full riot gear…

And pushed us back into the park.

Some of the anarchists formed a line and began jumping up and down and chanting.

The police formed a riot line that was by now at least ten times as large as their original squad.

Faced with an impenetrable wall, the anarchists en masse suddenly turned and sprinted across the park and out the other side into the streets. It wasn’t the direction that was originally planned, but I think the idea was to loop back around to to fundraisers and delegate parties once we were free of the cordon.

The crowd of people participating in or documenting the riot had also grown considerably, and included many people, such as this young woman (and myself) who were not actual anarchists, but rather just observing what was happening. Little did we know that we were getting ourselves into a pickle.

Because when the crowd reached the end of the next block, a row of well-armed mounted police and riot squad members were waiting for us — as if they had known ahead of time we were going to run in this direction.

I tried to slip past the line of cops, to transition from being an observer within the riot to being on the outside looking in — but no such luck — the police would not let me by, despite my entreaties and insistence that I was not one of the anarchists.

Soon the first sprinters reached the police blockade, and were similarly rebuffed.

Within a few seconds several hundred rioters ran straight into the police wall and were driven back. Behind us, the pursuing police would not let us exit the other direction. We were trapped! No way out, as the city block we were on (I believe it was 15th Street betwen Cleveland and Court) was lined with closed office buildings that were also inaccessible and impenetrable.

Denied their primary targets, the anarchists made do with what they had: some began spraypainting slogans on the walls. This guy was writing “We’re taking St. Paul next!”

This woman, who had been standing near me, got a full blast of pepper spray right in the eyes.

The crowd roiled and seethed, but had nowhere to go.

Little by little, the cops inched forward from both sides, squeezing us in a vise.

They soon had us confined on one side of the street.

No amount of cajoling could convince the cops to let anyone through.

One of my fellow internees had run into some kind of violence (I didn’t see what) and was pouring out blood.

Someone else had gotten teargassed pretty badly, and some anarchist medics were trying to help him with water and eye-wash solutions. He was moaning in pain.

Other people were not in physical pain but instead were having panic attacks and freaking out. The medics tried to calm them down too.

As night fell, some of the rioters tried to convince the police they were harmless by sitting down en masse and flashing peace signs.

An hour or two passed, and by now it was nighttime. The police were not letting anyone out of our human cage. I tried once again to charm my way through the line; my attempt was met with nothing but a stony stare.

Recreate 68 leader Glenn Spagnulo was with us, and took the opportunity to give interviews to some radical media types.

Every time I tried to escape, I was physically driven back. At this stage I was quite sure I was going to be arrested along with everyone else and spend the rest of the convention in jail.

Finally, after who-knows-how long, a cry of joy went up: They were releasing people! We all raised our arms above our heads to show we meant no harm (often accompanied by peace signs), and we slowly moved toward a gap in the riot line.

I had no idea what precipitated this reprieve, but I was as relieved as anyone that we (at least some of us) were being let go scot-free.

Once out in the freedom of downtown Denver, many of the former rioters let out whoops of joy.

But the crisis was far from over. More police were arriving every minute.

I was torn between hanging around to see what more happened, and leaving, in order to file this report.

I opted for the latter.