In Clearly Kabouter, Coen Tasman composes a lucid yet kaleidoscopic cartography of a movement that refused to be domesticated by either liberal tolerance or revolutionary orthodoxy. The Kabouters, with their surrealist folkloric aesthetics and unapologetic ecological insurgency, are not merely a charming footnote in Dutch countercultural history. Tasman shows how they conjure an embodied, clown-communist refusal that is neither nostalgic nor utopian, but materially inventive. Reading this chronicle is like being handed a bag of tactical compost. The Kabouters offer tools, not blueprints, for generating non-state public spheres: media as playground, urban space as living commons, governance as a temporary hallucination. They politicized the invisible – air pollution, bureaucratic opacity, capitalist boredom – through playful interventions that blurred the line between joke and infrastructure. They practiced a politics of presence rather than petition. Tasman’s narrative is alive to these ambiguities, presenting the Kabouters not as idealized heroes, but as processual figures, rhizomatic agents in a transversal ecology of resistance. Their legacy, as Tasman implies, lies not in replication but in resonance. Their experiments resonate with today’s movements seeking ways to inhabit the public without appealing to the state: to become ungovernable in joyful, situated ways.