Perhaps the past really is a foreign country. Ambling idly through my teens the other day, I came across a tiny snicket I’d not noticed before. Peering down it, I see myself walking home from the pub one evening, aged about 17, and coming across a very fat skinhead with his left hand around the throat of a pretty girl. In his right hand he had a hefty claw hammer, and was waving this around above her head.… READ MORE.... …