Cold Beer and Hot Politics. Chapter 4.

Sunlight shone through grimy windows, rousing John from slumber. His mind felt unusually clear this morning, vestiges of revelry at the fête still humming through his veins. Throwing back the duvet, John rose with vigour he had not known for years.

After dressing, he eyed the sitting room's fussy order with fresh disdain. The stale tidiness now offended him, summoning memories of his unkempt student bedsit, its walls proudly plastered with radical broadsheets. Seizing the moment, John stacked teetering piles of old books and newspapers, garish disruptions breaking up the symmetry. Twitching the faded curtains aside, he flung open the window to breathe life into the room's dead air. Gazing at the council flats nearby, distant children's play carried on the breeze, echoing the cries of impassioned crowds at protests long ago.

Rummaging deep into the back of the wardrobe, John uncovered a battered shoebox brimming with his unruly past— the transformed self he had buried for decades. Frayed pamphlets with defiant titles like "Smash the Establishment!" transported him back to his blazing-eyed firebrand days, rallying the disaffected masses. A snapshot showed his bearded student self addressing crowds at Speakers' Corner, demanding "Resist Illegitimate Authority!"

Another photo captured a blissful week in 1967 San Francisco where, high on youth and conviction, John plotted alongside Ginsberg and the Diggers to manifest their "Age of Aquarius." He had returned home still burning with holy purpose, determined to channel his generation's fury over Vietnam into coordinated resistance. They would dismantle the unjust world order they inherited, brick by unjust brick.

As John lingered over these relics of the past, the dying embers reignited within his breast. By God, the Establishment lurked as entrenched and remote now as ever! Imagining himself dispersing his old pamphlets outside Parliament, he chuckled subversively. If he could rouse fellow geriatrics to wild-eyed protest, their dissent might spur apathetic youth.Together, they could revive Britain's principled agitation!

Invigorated by revolutionary memories, John flung open the obstinate window sash once more to the vigorous spring air. Yes, this nation was overripe for waking! And this old campaigner would be the one to stir the slumbering masses.