A biodiversity of people, ideals and colors meet up at the main station in Rostock, dressing up to transport their message. “We are so many clowns,” cheers a representative of the Parliament of Clowns. Kneeling down, painting the face of a colleague in white, funny red lips and green eyes, silver stars sprinkled all over the costume. Chanting for international solidarity, beating drums, playing for attention, the crowd clinches together in groups, looking for associates, getting lost in the chaotic turbulence in front of Rostock’s train station. “Climate Killers” over here, “Liberated Pigs” over 

Let's start with a confession: there were those in our group who threw rocks. Unprovoked, some may say, we sought the conflict. We started the violence.

There is some truth in the first statement. We do seek the conflict. In an unjust, repressive system, the only answer is refusal to listen, to acknowledge the authority of those in power, and to fight the symbols and guardians of this repression. They are the strong, and we are the weak.

As to the second statement, the absurdity of such a claim is apparent to all. Violence is the currency