On Friday night I went to the cinema and saw T2: Trainspotting with a mate. I loved it; for my money it's a wonderful film. Albeit one with a terrible name. I put it to you my alternative title is better... Ish. I went to see the original in the cinema. Like pretty much anyone of my generation I had the mandatory orange posters plastered on my walls. I read the book multiple times. I had the video, the VHS cassette (I'm that old). Hell, I had the green special edition VHS with the deleted scenes. (Which was probably only released because at that time the marketing men realised they could slap Trainspotting on * anything * and make some money.) If I was going out for a night I watched Trainspotting with a drink in my hand before I headed out. It was part of the vague rituals of my life. The film meant a lot to me. It's hard to express just why; excessive exposure has tattooed it into my mind. Part of it may be that the characters feel real. I have the same r...
The missives of Reillys journeying in foreign lands...