Let’s talk about letters, namely XX. They’ve got more meaning than you might expect.
And the music, with the exception of the songs by Lana Del Rey and The xx, is awful.
That it received a big co-sign from The xx was just the icing on the cake.
Syr, quod he, xx nobles was inne the pourse; I am halfe a walshe man; and my name is John vp Janken.
We certainly would not charge him xx with theoretical atheism, holding as he does this ultimate religious idea.
XX, 29, is perhaps a name compounded with that of a king, the latter being in a cartouche.
And xx mark for the soule of Stevyn York to the werkys of the chirche and to other werkys doon before.
Where on earth—-or elsewhere—have we got to from the XX century and the Sierra?