Late one soft summer night in 1966, my brother Christopher slipped out of our north Oxford house and bicycled to the centre of the city. There he spent a worryingly long time with a spraypaint can, inscribing the words ‘Hey! Hey! LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?’ on a long builders’ hoarding outside Trinity College in Broad Street.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Get 10 issues
for $10
Subscribe to The Spectator Australia today for the next 10 magazine issues, plus full online access, for just $10.
- Delivery of the weekly magazine
- Unlimited access to spectator.com.au and app
- Spectator podcasts and newsletters
- Full access to spectator.co.uk
Or
Unlock this article
You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it. Try your first month for free, then just $2 a week for the remainder of your first year.
Comments
Don't miss out
Join the conversation with other Spectator Australia readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.
SUBSCRIBEAlready a subscriber? Log in