The police are overwhelmed and beaten by the small fluid groups who don’t wait around to be crushed, but instead move quickly, spreading terror in those who can’t identify themselves as belonging to the mob.
A stormy, fairy-like gleam of light bathed my room: like an armed, youthful and illuminated Saint George attacking a dragon, she hurled herself at me, but the harm she intended me was to tear my clothes off and she was armed only with a hyena’s smile.
—Georges Bataille. The Impossible.
One question that still isn’t considered with the adequate attention in the militant context is the one of the struggle-force. The struggle-force, like the love-force, must be protected and regenerated. It’s a resource that doesn’t renovate itself automatically and needs collective conditions for its creation.