After Dellums marches himself back into City Hall, we pick back up where we left off. People scream:
Round Two! Round Two!
There are 150 of us, new faces, just outside of the downtown plaza. There’s shouting, and the police decide to shoot tear gas. We are running, but without fear, and with wide smiles across our faces. After the few block sprint we looked behind us and realized the pigs didn’t follow.
Shit, they thought we’d scatter like scared rats.
You realize, we can do ANYTHING…
The world, as it is always upside down, is tonight, finally, right side up. Somehow, cars are trampolines and windows are smashed. Someone ghostrides their car, beats pouring out adding rhythm to our step.
There is one dumb-as-fuck white yuppie man who thinks now is a good time to confront us. He tries to use his dog to threaten us. A verbal fight carries out, but we do not smash him. He is advised to go inside; he scurries back indoors.
Hey! We got to get shit into the street!
A dumpster is pulled into the street and people gather around it, pulling trash bags apart.
Who has a light?
Here. Anyone have matches?
Damn. We need to be better prepared.
The police roll down tree lined 17th street. It is a war zone. Every storefront and every car are hit, trash cans and dumpsters are on fire, smoking debris litters the street. We scatter and disappear. We do this over and over: evading cops, pulling things into the street, windows broken, jokes cracked. We turn each corner quickly.
Enough is enough! is the messaging. But not in the form of signs or anything stated to a reporter. Enough is enough! says the dancing on the cop car. Enough is enough! says the broken windows up and down 14th and 17th Streets. We outrun the police, we laugh at them, we taunt them. Enough is enough!
By this point most of the anarchists and the wider Left have disappeared, either because they are sketched out or because they thought the night had already come to a close. We are running with an entirely new crew of people; it doesn’t seem like anyone from the initial rally. Many join in from text messages, or from seeing shit unfold before their eyes.