The Weekly News Review. A look back at the News Stories of the last Seven Days. Complete with the appropriate level of rage, sarcasm, and “what the hell is wrong with everybody.”

Have you ever noticed how every week the news somehow manages to get dumber, louder, and more exhausting, like it’s in a competition with itself? And the prize is a migraine. Because this week oh boy  this week the world really said, “Let’s see how far we can push these people before they start chewing the furniture.”

Let’s start with Donald Trump, who has spent the last seven days firing off barbs at the UK like he’s trying to win a prize for Most Unnecessary International Tension. Every time you turn around, he’s taking another swing. It’s like he’s got a little calendar that says:  

MONDAY: Insult Britain.  

TUESDAY: Insult Britain again.  

WEDNESDAY: Repeat steps 1 and 2.

And the UK just sits there like a polite dinner guest thinking, “Well, maybe he’s just tired.” No he’s not tired. He’s energised. He’s like a toddler who found the swear button.

Meanwhile, over in the House of Lords  the only workplace where the dress code is “Victorian funeral” we’ve got hereditary peers trying to find a way to stay in the chamber. Of course they are. These people haven’t voluntarily left a room since the invention of the doorknob. They see reform coming and suddenly they’re all constitutional scholars. “Well actually, if you look at the ancient scrolls of Lord Wafflebury the Third…” No. Stop it. You inherited your job. That’s not a career, that’s a genetic accident.

And then we’ve got Chancellor Rachel Reeves, who says she wants to stop top British tech firms and scientists from “drifting abroad.” Drifting! Like they’re leaves on a pond. They’re not drifting — they’re running. They’re sprinting through Heathrow with a suitcase full of patents yelling, “GOOD LUCK WITH THE BROADBAND!” And Reeves is standing there like a parent trying to coax a teenager back into the house. “Come on, sweetheart, we can talk about tax incentives.”

Speaking of political tension, Angela Rayner gave a speech so explosive it reignited leadership speculation. Of course it did. In British politics, you can’t even sneeze without someone whispering, “Is this a leadership bid?” Rayner could say, “Good morning,” and half the press would start drawing battle maps. The other half would be outside her house with binoculars.

But let’s move to something wholesome  and I mean actually wholesome, not “politician‑pretending‑to‑care” wholesome. Rhinos are back in the wild in Uganda. Forty years after the last one was poached. That’s right  real rhinos, walking around, doing rhino things. This is the first good news story in decades that doesn’t involve a dog being rescued from a drain. And it’s beautiful. It’s hopeful. It’s nature saying, “You humans screw up everything, but sometimes you get it right.”

And then because the universe can’t let us have nice things for more than six seconds we get the NHS inquiry. Turns out the NHS “came close to collapse” during Covid and patients were failed. Failed! That’s the polite word. The real word is “abandoned.” The system was held together with duct tape, goodwill, and nurses who hadn’t slept since 2019. And now we get the big official report telling us what everyone already knew while it was happening. It’s like being handed a weather report that says, “By the way, that hurricane last year? Yeah, it was bad.”

So that’s your week:  

A president yelling at Britain,  

lords clinging to their chairs like barnacles,  

scientists fleeing the country,  

politicians circling each other like sharks,  

rhinos making a comeback,  

and the NHS being told retroactively  that it nearly died.

If this is the warm‑up act for the rest of the year, I’m moving to wherever the rhinos are. They seem to have their act together.