A common hatred and disgust for poverty and homelessness is pervasive throughout these occupied lands. The unsheltered are left to die in the streets, viewed as an inconvenience, as self made tragedies beyond saving. Society has hardened its heart to the suffering of its least fortunate. Still, they persist, in the cracks of the concrete, in the corners behind stripmalls and under the bridges, by the shore of lakes and along the canals.

The cruelty of the society we inhabit consistently manifests itself through the constant legislation of new forms of social murder. The state routinely prohibits vagrancy, panhandling, loitering, and trespassing. In 2024, the supreme court ruled in favor of the “right” of cities to ban sleeping in outdoor spaces even when no other shelter is available, effectively criminalizing homelessness. Yet another way this full frontal assault on some of the most vulnerable members of society advances is an outright ban on or requirement of permission to feed those who need it in public spaces. City councils will cite health and safety concerns and complaints from community busybodies to justify this direct attack on mutual aid efforts. Just this year in 2025, Tempe became the latest city in the valley to criminalize public food distribution without a permit, a move that will hinder the ability of organizations and individuals to provide this critical assistance to those who need it, and creates a pretext to wield greater state violence against those who take direct action.

The resultant chilling effect will cost people their lives.

These developments have created a new challenge for us to work around, but also have created an opportunity for us to innovate new ways of directly meeting the needs of our neighbors.

If an action has become vulnerable by nature of its static location,

why not become a moving target?

Local radicals may be aware of the push by Phoenix anarchist collective Make Total Destroy to reestablish an anarchist space here in the valley, following the loss of their previous location in 2024. Recently, these plans have evolved from securing a physical stationary location to purchasing a bus.

“In an effort to try and subvert existing structures, the homies in Phoenix have been trying to buy a bus. This bang bus will be used as a way to create, destroy, learn, unlearn, play, anti-work, and explore with one another. Phoenix lacks the kind of meaningful radical distribution that we envision and, rather than whining continually about the declining Cool People scene in the area, we’re just gonna do it ourselves. The eventually modified bus will serve as a mobile infoshop, food distribution for the unhoused, and possibly a small and mobile print shop.”

An idea originally stemming from the financial infeasibility of meeting the ridiculous cost of rent, this proposal steps up to the challenges of a sprawling car centric city, and the criminalization of unpermitted food distribution. Distro on wheels mitigates the need for unhoused people to travel long distances to reach one of sites of distribution, and expands the reach of anarchy to the far edges of the valley. It allows for the outside agitators to sow the seeds of rebellion and mutuality across communities. It enables the ability to pop up, act quickly, and pack up before the pigs show up. It draws less unwanted attention and allows for adaptability as situations evolve. The potential of this method is further highlighted by the fact that non-anarchist organizations and nonprofits already host mobile foodbank pop ups across the country with regular success. It is clear then, that there is plenty of room for an explicitly anarchist project in this vein, combining this method with our strengths and our aims. With a bit of concentrated effort, we could have our very own roaming autonomous zone, reclaiming freedom in brief spaces of our own improvisation, as well as in the joy of being in motion, journeying to new places.

At the local level, a mobile distroism also leaves room for bicycle based actions, for our comrades who either can’t or won’t drive a car. The bicycle itself is a subversive and versatile form of transport, allowing for quick transport to and through spaces both accessible and inaccessible to cars. A bicycle can slip through the cracks of the city and through the fingers of the cops. It requires less maintenance and money. It is ecologically friendly and energy efficient.

There are already examples of mutual aid on the back of a bicycle. On the occupied indigenous lands also known as Toronto, a group known as the bike brigade consisting of 1500+ cyclists formed during the height of the pandemic to deliver food from local organizations and food banks to those in need. The bike brigade has continued to operate even as the pandemic restrictions have been lifted, and they provide a critical lifeline of support to those who are food insecure, low income, and living in food deserts.

Such organization and direct action could be recreated across this continent, creating new networks of solidarity and drawing more people into mutual aid and community support.

The final point of importance is that we need not limit our imagination to food and water. These networks could easily be expanded to distribution of necessities like HRT, narcan, clothes, hygiene products, bicycle repair services, as well as agitprop. Sunspots Distro itself primarily distributes zines by bicycle. These are only a few examples of what could be done. There are many more contained within ourselves, waiting to be realized. Let a thousand mobile autonomous zones rove across the concrete wastes.

The avenues of possibilities are wide open to us. Let us utilize them to bring new modes of mutuality into existence, to build resilience in the face of oppression, and to affirm the humanity of our neighbors.