This night I was in a supermarket. The supermarket was controlled by a gang of marginalized, alternative
hippies and punks. These
anarchists had taken over the supermarket but their power was not constituted by
direct violence and it wasn't
formal power. Not at all, their power was that of
biopolitics (see
Foucault et al). The people willingly did exactly what the hippies wanted thinking that it was their
free choice to buy certain things et cetera. However, all the pieces dropped nicely together just exactly how the
commies had thought beforehand. In principle, I was with them because I shared their outspoken aim to
change the world.
But the plan wasn't going right. A detested hierarchy emerged among the hippies and thus the original aim of quiet revolution was diluted. Furthermore, there were many teenagers who were now conscious about biopolitics. These teens were led by a cute lassie with a short brown hair. In order to gum up the biopolitical control of the anarchists the teens rearranged merchandise in the supermarket. I noticed what they were doing but I did nothing to stop them for two reasons:
1) The original noble cause of the anarchists was corrupted.
2) I fancied the teen leader.
So, before the long the hippies worked out what was going on but it was too late to do anything but to take the battle (of power) to the next level: that of physical violence. For an average customer the storm of hippies came out of the blue but the teens were prepared. Their leader organized the resistance in a second and the reorganized merchandise gave them an unexpected advantage (don't ask by which mechanism).
It was soon clear that the biopolitics of hippies was dismantled by this tiny war and thus the anarchist leader escaped. He run out the store and I followed. I was bit of afraid that if he saw me it would mean hard times for me. But he didn't and I took the different direction when out. Finally I took a bus to Hervanta.