Aware that I was getting strange looks from my fellow passengers, I tried to stifle my laughter. My attempts only resulted in a coughing fit, which earned me even more strange looks.

Adam and Joe must be two of the most entertaining people on the radio. I really wish they’d hurry up and return to their 6 Music show.

The BBC’s digital channels have long been a target for the corporation’s enemies. In the early days the Daily Mail criticised the BBC for wasting money on channels which no-one watched (and, given that BBC Choice launched in September 1998 before any digital TV receivers became available for the public to buy, they did briefly have a point). Last year, Sky boss James Murdoch criticised the BBC’s expansion. And of course there is a long list of BBC Three programme titles ready to be dropped into a Richard Littlejohn piece at the right point.

The BBC’s radio stations generally, meanwhile, have come in for criticism from commercial rivals. This ignores the fact that, almost without exception, commercial radio is total crap (or should that be Absolute crap?) with unimaginative playlists, annoying presenters, far too many adverts and “local” stations which are often broadcast from a playout server 200 miles away from their licence area. And that’s just music radio, not speech — if BBC Radio 4 closed down tomorrow, would GCap Media step in with their own replacement?

The real problem here is that no-one (including, it seems, BBC management) knows what the corporation is supposed to be doing. Is it supposed to broadcast entertainment and information for the masses (in which case, CLOSE IT DOWN because commercial channels can do that) or is it supposed to broadcast niche programmes of interest to a small minority (in which case, CLOSE IT DOWN because satellite or cable channels funded by subscription can do that)?

My own view is that the BBC is funded by everyone, and therefore has the opportunity (and in fact a responsibility) to be all things to all people. That’s why I’m trying to avoid a “How can the BBC axe (x) when they spend millions on (y)“-type post (where (x) is a show I like, and (y) is probably Top Gear), because programme (y) is going to be of interest to someone, even if it’s not me. Stations like 6Music and the Asian Network are an essential part of that “something for everyone” mix.

The Tories, unsurprisingly, welcomed the move. An incoming Conservative government (I know, I’m scared too) is likely to impose far more radical cuts on the BBC (and everything else, for that matter), so this could just be the start of a very painful period for Auntie.

The first voice I heard was the lugubrious tones of Freud, and at first I thought all my suspicions, about Radio 4 being a home for dull upper-class people, were true. But then I listened more, and soon he was delighting me with the incredibly funny things coming out of his mouth, all delivered in that brilliantly deadpan manner.

This Just a Minute blog has some of his best lines.

Chris Moyles has been censured by Ofcom for condoning negative stereotypes of gay people, after the DJ made what the media regulator ruled were derogatory comments about Will Young on his BBC Radio 1 breakfast show.

Moyles changed the lyrics of two of Young’s songs, Evergreen and Leave Right Now, and sang them in “an effeminate and high pitched voice”, according to Ofcom.

What will it take for him to be sacked?

Meanwhile, on the blog, I started a new regular feature, Hampo’s Book Club — if I interpret the word “regular” strictly, the next installment is due a week next Tuesday. I also took time to laugh at the nasty mobile phones sold by TJ Hughes, before getting incredibly maudlin and deciding to hide from Google, a daft decision which I swiftly reversed.

February brought us Liverpool: The Number Ones Album, a compilation of covers by — it has to be said — mostly second tier Liverpool artists. The good (Anthony Hannah’s cover of Relax) mingled with the bad (Connie Lush?) and the just plain entertaining (The Scaffold!).

I championed the humble semicolon, before spending an uncharacteristic three hours outdoors exploring the Wirral peninsula, and jolly nice it was too. Sun and Cloud returned for one of their occasional appearances.

In the news, the Children’s Commissioner said that maybe damaging children’s hearing wasn’t the best way to get rid of scallies hanging around outside corner shops, and a predictable knee-jerk reaction ensued. A brilliant photo appeared on Flickr of two smashed up Merseyrail trains.

March started with a nightmarishly long call to Sky technical support, from a cordless phone that was dangerously low on battery power. I was briefly reconciled with RISC OS, before realising that you can’t actually do anything useful with it any more. I visited the Magical History Tour at Merseyside Maritime Museum, and left feeling all warm and fuzzy about Liverpool. The exhibition is still on until September 2009 — GO AND SEE IT. I celebrated the anniversary of the BBC Micro, but forgot to celebrate the anniversary of my own blog. Oops.

I’m sure important stuff happened this month, but the highlight must surely be Charlotte Green corpsing uncontrollably while reading an obituary on Radio 4.

April started off promisingly: Futurama was back on DVD, and didn’t disappoint. The Merseyside village of Lunt was the subject of predictable vandalism. The saddest news in ages came with the death of jazz supremo and radio punmonger, Humphrey Lyttelton. At the same time, and seemingly in homage to Mornington Crescent, rail companies prepared to introduce a new set of convoluted ticketing rules. I hoped at the time that this would end passenger confusion over ticket types. It didn’t, but that’s a whole blog post in itself.

In May local elections brought a surge of excitement, except in Liverpool where the usual apathy reigned. Panel-show chairman Boris Johnson became Mayor of London, sparking howls of protest from Guardian readers. The promised fascist dictatorship has so far failed to materialise.

The best Liverpool souvenir in ages: a Merseyrail map with famous people instead of stations, which you should keep with you in case you need to be distracted from a disgusting dangly thing on the train seat opposite yours. Although that’s a far more pleasant experience than Manchester rail passengers had, thanks to some boozed-up football fans.

Terry Wogan mulled quitting Eurovision as the Eastern bloc countries dominated the competition again. I crunched some numbers and proved… that no-one really cares.

In actual entertainment news, The Colbert Report finally hit these shores, and didn’t disappoint.

Liverpool One threw open its doors for the first time and actually lived up to the hype. Suddenly Liverpool was the cool place to shop; the only thing that could go wrong would be two of the chains that had set up shop there going into administration within months of opening — but surely that wouldn’t happen?

June saw my apathy reach breaking point as Euro 2008 began, without England. Somebody else tried to get into the spirit, but it didn’t really work out.

The Government took away a couple more civil liberties, while simultaneously getting tough on Zimbabwe.

In local news, Liverpool was flooded with poisonous cigarettes — well, all cigarettes are poisonous, but I imagine even the most rabid chain-smoker would draw the line at rat droppings. Alexei Sayle returned to the city he betrayed (© Liverpool Echo) in a BBC2 documentary, which turned out to be an affectionate celebration of all things Scouse.

I posted a very long ramble about Dr Beeching. Sadly BBC4 decided that Ian Hislop would be a bigger draw, and got him to do their documentary instead.

That’s the first half of 2008 summarised neatly; come back tomorrow for more!

• One of the main roads into Liverpool City Centre has been closed after a sewer collapsed underneath it — normally this would be of no interest to me whatsover, but the same sewer passes directly under the railway line I use to travel to work on a daily basis. Despite the heroic efforts of United Utilities, St Michaels station floods every time there’s a light drizzle and yours truly has ended up on an Arriva bus in a traffic jam on two separate occasions.

• John Barrowman apologises for exposing himself on a Radio 1 show, following a complaint by a person who clearly doesn’t understand the concept of radio.

• Remember RISC OS, the computer operating system which was great when first released in 1988, but struggled to keep up with Windows and was eventually left in the dust? It’s now available to download for a fiver. Sadly in today’s market it’s still overpriced by about £4.50, but the nostalgic may relish the opportunity to have a legal copy to plug into an emulator.

• Steve Coogan says his Liverpool show got bad reviews, not because it was a half-arsed performance, but (of COURSE!) because the Scouse audience hated Mancunians. The reaction locally was… predictable (although to be fair, for once Paddy Shennan has a point).

• Many people have suspected as much for some time, but now it’s official: The Simpsons is over as an icon of subversive pop culture. How do I know? The Daily Mail has run an article praising the show.

• Staying on the same subject, the Mail on Sunday has decided to launch its own music label, or as Paul McInnes puts it on the Guardian music blog: “As if belonging to one industry with a death wish wasn’t enough, now the Mail wants to get into another!”

  The new label will be called Mail On Sunday Sounds (MOSS) and launched with a free giveaway of a CD by a Gospel choir. Contrary to rumours, they won’t have any recordings featuring Mick Jagger or Keith Richards, because MOSS gathers no Rolling Stones.

I quite like Russell Brand. I never listened to his Radio 2 show, but I’ve enjoyed much of the stuff he’s done on telly (Ponderland was a pleasant surprise, and he was one of the best guests to grace the panel of HIGNFY this year). This isn’t the first time he’s crossed the line, but I can’t imagine that the Daily Mail will get their wish and see him disappear into obscurity.

However, despite what the majority of Radio 1 listeners apparently think, I don’t think Brand and Ross’s antics were funny or clever. Yes, comedy should be all about challenging preconceptions and pushing boundaries, but this didn’t do that — it was just… well, stupid.

Has the BBC over-reacted in the face of a tabloid witch-hunt? Yes, but they did themselves no favours by hiding behind bland statements from anonymous spokesmen for days, while the corporation’s enemies were demanding blood. The BBC’s slowness to respond has allowed the tabloids to fuel the story with plenty of good old-fashioned hysteria.

Now its time to get a sense of proportion: at this moment Google News reports 4,115 articles about this kerfuffle. Meanwhile people are dying in wars, losing jobs, and having their civil liberties taken away — can we start reading about that on the front pages please?

Whether the show will succeed without Humphrey Lyttelton depends very much on who they get to take over. I can’t think of anyone who could match his deadpan delivery.

I remember reading an article about I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue which stated, “Humph could read the dirtiest single-entendres as if they were shopping lists.” His deadpan presence in the chair was surely a massive part of Clue‘s enduring success.

It’s very rare that a single person’s death affects an entire broadcast network, but I think it’s true to say that Radio 4 will be much poorer for his absence.

Not much more I can add really. Here’s the BBC’s obituary.

The spring series of BBC Radio 4′s comedy show I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue has been cancelled after long-serving presenter Humphrey Lyttelton was admitted to hospital.