There's no real news at the moment. That's why the story on the front page of today's Times is a statement of the obvious:
Did anyone think it had? In other "news", the Met Office has revised its forecast of a "barbecue summer", and Britain is to be cold and damp, hence the gurning Les Dawson look-alike in what my mother calls a "rain pixie".
When there's no news, non-news makes the headlines, but there is also space to learn about the non-famous, who are much more interesting than the famous. From The Telegraph, where there is also very little news:
Louise Brown joined her local library in 1946. Since then she has borrowed 25,000 books. "I've always loved books," she said modestly when staff at Stranraer public library drew attention to her record. What's more, she has never returned one late.
Public libraries, a royal road to learning for all, are a quiet triumph of British civilisation. Lesser nations find that borrowers don't bring books back. When Mrs Brown joined, libraries were libraries. Philanthropists knew their value. Andrew Carnegie, who declared that to die rich would be to die disgraced, built 660 public libraries in Britain. John Passmore Edwards notched up only 24, but gave books to dozens more. In too many libraries now, for all their internet access and chatty surroundings, books are the missing element. When borrowed, they do more than decorate a room.
And libraries have provided a space for teenagers to do their homework when the home is too noisy or cramped, and a refuge for intelligent children whose comprehensive school is a hotbed of crack-dealling and multiculturalist indoctrination.
No news is good news; conversely, much that is good - books, for instance - is not news.