Imagine this. You go to your GP with something like a sore throat. Nothing that’s going to immediately kill you, you understand.

Let’s say, just for argument’s sake, that you don’t like Donald Trump.

Being handed a diagnosis of lethal cancer together with the promise that it will radically shorten your life rarely provokes — in the person hearing the deadly prognosis — the desire to be funny.

The weather, this weekend, and its effects on the environment, would remind you of those

Trump’s own supporters, though, will have been rocked by watching their man look like a traitor, writes Terry Prone

Where were the organisations that get state money to promote the interests of older people? writes Terry Prone. 

THE arrest of an open-faced 28-year-old nurse, Lucy Letby, on suspicion of the murder of eight babies and attempted murder of as many more simultaneously impels and repels, writes Terry Prone.

Why on earth would a sensible man like Diarmuid Martin try to convince anybody that there isn't a shortage, asks Terry Prone. 

You don’t often get Government ministers casting dead bodies in the path of senior civil servants, but Robert Watt had barely finished an expository sentence on an interesting transport-related topic when Shane Ross made with the dead bodies. 

The Kindle was supposed to do away with the “beach book”. It didn’t. Whatever sun-warmed sand you trudge through this summer, you’re more likely to see readers holding fat paperbacks than holding reading gadgets.