I’ve found the tonic for Britain’s woes. It’s called Anglofuturism and if you want to know what it is, it’s about using red squirrels to colonise Mars, building quantum computers inside oak trees and blending CrossFit with Morris dancing. It’s a movement for the young, the talented, the disenchanted, anyone who refuses to accept living in the dreary, stagnant modernity passed down by our forebears. It’s utterly absurd. But it’s deadly serious.