![]() On high days and holidays we have Her Majesty The Queen meeting, greeting and sipping tea on the lawn with some very nice, very polite aliens, while in her darker moments under threat from rogue comets Her Majesty slips into a pair of rubber gloves and washes the dishes for Europe. The obligatory migration of the human species away from planet Earth is achieved in über-cheap Virgin Model-T spacecraft - available in any colour you like, so long as you like Virgin red. We have mill-owner’s sons rebelling with a spot of ballet, mill-owner’s daughters wantonly playing the cello and mill-owner’s wives demonstrating the noble art of fainting into a small glass of something medicinal from the Orient. The truth about what really happened during the Industrial Revolution is revealed, including full details of that nasty accident with the first half-dozen steam trains, most of the bankers and all of the lawyers. Within these pages are old people in space, conscripted into the English military (and we have no idea how we’re ever going to get the universe to smell fresh and clean again). ![]() The science is improbable, the history inaccurate, the plots farcical and the fiction splendid. It’s all dreadfully civilised fun, and not at all serious. ![]() NGLND XPX (or “England Expects”) is a wonky-wheeled pudding-trolley of sweetmeats and savoury treats for your brain-gland.
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