An interesting hack is described near the end:

  Jim Myers began breeding a plant he now calls “The O.P.,”
  which stands for “open-pollinated.” Until then, his broccoli
  were either hybrids or inbreds, created by a process of
  narrowing the genetics until one select mother is bred with
  one select father to create a single, most desirable combination
  of genes. The O.P., by contrast, is the result of a
  horticultural orgy. Myers began with twenty-three different
  broccoli hybrids and inbreds, including some of the lines
  behind the exserted-head trait. He let insects cross-pollinate
  them en masse, and the resulting plants were crossed at random
  again—and again, and again, four generations in a row. He then
  sent germplasm to farmers around the country, had them grow it
  in their fields, and send back the seed they collected. Over
  the winter, Myers bred it in another greenhouse orgy, then
  sent it back to farmers. For six years, he repeated this process.

  The broccoli evolved in two ways simultaneously. The
  back-and-forth of the breeding scrambled the plants’ genetics,
  making the germplasm wildly diverse. It also let the environment
  whittle away at individual genes. For instance, plants without
  pest resistance produced less seed or simply died, reducing
  their presence in the gene pool. When it was hot, plants that
  could tolerate heat produced more seed, increasing their
  presence. Survival of the fittest.

  In the seventh year, Myers sent most of the seed back to the
  farmers—just gave it to them, without licenses, royalties or
  restrictions. The idea was that each farmer would adapt that
  dynamic gene pool to his or her farm’s particular climate and
  conditions, selecting the best plants every year to refine the
  population. In other words, they could breed it themselves. In
  time, each would end up with his or her own perfect broccoli.

  The beauty of the O.P. is that rather than challenge the
  intellectual-property system, it inherently rejects the concept
  of ownership. It contains many of the desirable genetics of
  Myers’s commercial broccoli lines, but in a package that is
  designed to be shared, not owned. Because it is open-pollinated,
  not a hybrid, its seeds can be saved by any farmer. And because
  it is genetically diverse, it would be difficult to pin down
  with a patent. Even if someone did claim to own it, because each
  new seedling is a little different, that claim would be all but
  impossible to enforce. In this case, the plant’s natural
  instinct to mate, multiply, change—to evolve—isn’t an impediment
  at all. Rather, it is a central reason why people would want to
  grow it in the first place.

I like that it is the exact opposite of their other strategy. Instead of going down a road where "the tools of the master are repurposed in a way that... actively subverts the master's hegemony", the plants are bred in a way that makes the tools of the master obsolete and useless.

Is there an equivalent anti-patent strategy for software?