If the riots were about divisions in society coming to the fore, then radio phone-ins are similar, without the window-breaking and the plasma screens. Take the explosive mix of tensions, prejudice and bigotry that kicked off on Jeremy Vine's phone-in on fat people.

Have you ever said to yourself, "Why is there never enough BBC drama about middle-class people with young children living in north London?" No? Me neither. I know Outnumbered was very successful on TV, but sometimes feels like the whole of north London is squabbling, parenting and getting a divorce right here in my (south London) kitchen.

If two people decide not to register their relationship, or if they just don't get round to it, what duty should the law have to them?

What do you want at five o'clock in the morning? Ideally deep slumber between silken sheets, of course, but if you have to be awake, is Vanessa Feltz the answer? For most radio networks, getting-up time is the most intimate part of the day, the time when listeners are at their most irascible. Annoy them at your peril. Sarah Kennedy, who departed the Radio 2 early morning show abruptly last year, had, to say the least, a distinctive style. She was Bunty Bagshaw, listeners were the Dawn Patrollers. There was cosy giggling and in-jokes. How will three million listeners take to Vanessa, a crisp, no-nonsense Cambridge First? And how will Feltz cope with a 3.30am start, as well as hosting her daily Radio London show, a new Channel 5 show, and deputising for Jeremy Vine?

Ed Miliband admitted yesterday that he had to improve the way he got his message across to voters as he pleaded for more time during an uncomfortable radio phone-in.

Rant

It's a fine art, presenting a phone-in. Like politicians, presenters face the daunting occupational hazard of having actual contact with the public, however chatty, deranged or boring they may be. It was Peter Cook who first realised that you could call in and say just about anything you liked, live on air, as long as you weren't obviously obscene. He spent many happy evenings between 1988 and 1992 calling Clive Bull's late-night LBC phone-in, posing as Sven from Swiss Cottage, a bipolar Norwegian fisherman engaged in a fruitless search for his estranged wife and talking about fish. You can still hear some of these meanderings on YouTube. "You sound a bit depressed," says Clive, unnecessarily.

Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg today said he "massively regrets" being unable to deliver on his pledge to prevent university tuition fee increases.

Vanessa Feltz is to join BBC Radio 2 to take over the early breakfast show slot vacated by Sarah Kennedy.

The Archers, which was originally founded to impart Government advice about the turnip crop and the prospects for pig farming, has been dispensing some less rural tips recently. Peggy has been learning to surf the web – an activity almost guaranteed to end in the arrival of a romantic stranger in Ambridge. This storyline is in fact a not-too-disguised part of the latest BBC public information campaign to target the Digitally Disadvantaged. That's not those of us who regularly fritter vast chunks of our time on Facebook and email, but the nine million people who have never got online at all. Now a campaign called First Click has been devised to drag them into the 21st century.

Leave rush hour behind for a day out on London’s mighty ring road. Simon Calder fires up the Focus

Police are investigating complaints made by BBC presenter Jeremy Vine that he was the victim of a stalker.

Foreign Secretary William Hague said today his decision to publicly deny speculation about a gay affair with an aide was "not an easy thing to do".

Analysing humour, it has been said, is a bit like dissecting a frog. You can do it – but the frog dies in the process. So it is probably not wise to try to explain exactly why a one-liner by Tim Vine has been named as the best joke at this year's Edinburgh Fringe.