Oh Him Again?

In my last post I wrote that I'd be starting a formal complaint about TV Licensing's behaviour. I decided to wait a month so that I'd receive a second letter from them: this way they can't excuse themselves by claiming a temporary glitch in their system sent out a spurious letter.

So here it is: the latest letter as TV Licensing resume their briefly interrupted campaign of harassment. Their latest fad seems to be telling the postman I'm a bad boy: so there's threatening language on the envelope as there was last month. It's the same old story: completely missing the point that, as a private company that has no business with me, they are not in a position to require anything from me whatsoever. The lady at the bakery up the road has the same legal powers as they do. Only she's nicer, and I get bread from her.

The only action required I think uses two fingers

Someone's seeing red again - I think it's me

Same old, same old

It comes as a surprise to discover that my 'details are being passed' to their enforcement officers. Hence the title of this blog entry. Those poor enforcement officers must be sick of receiving my details, or 'authorisations' concerning me. Of course, an alternative explanation is that TV Licensing are telling me another one of their lies and this is just another one of their standard threatening letters sent to thousands of addresses in the UK. Given our past history, I can leave you to decide for yourself which is true.

But perhaps the most annoying part of this letter, where they seem to descend to new depths is this: We have sent you letters like this before. However, there is still no TV License at this address. Yes, quite right, they've sent me lots of letters like this. But, no matter how many they send, there will never be a TV License at this address: for the simple reason that I do not need one. I do not watch TV.

So it's time to make a complaint: that topic will be dealt with in the next post.

Dear Mr Brown

Attempts to abolish the TV License are nothing new. So I can't see the latest effort, a petition to the Prime Minister, presenting any real hope. But I'll sign it anyway.

I'm mulling over my response to TV Licensing's latest assault on my peace of mind. The BBC Trust's website details their complaints procedure: in the initial stages this involves a circumstance so ludicrous that I'd think I had misread it, only I have checked it over and over. Of this, more gory details in a future post.

We Must Stop Meeting Like This

I know now that a really good stern letter will get you a respite of a year or so. Just long enough for me to have moments when I forget about the people who have been running roughshod over my peace and serenity. I was just beginning to hope that TV Licensing had finally gotten the message that I don't watch TV.

There's an article that gives me some hope. The BBC Trust has expressed concerns over the methods used by the agency, which is contracted by the BBC to collect and administer the TV Licence fee. But then I read the date on the article. I don't manage to laugh although there is some grim humour there.

A private company has the power to require action of me?

Did I miss you? No, actually

The only sense in which I'll see the back of them?

Fashions come and fashions go. It appears that, for 2009, letters from TV Licensing will be sporting a new, thinner look. A4 is just so 2008! Oh and there's a new name and a new post for the supposed letter writer, if he exists. But one thing stays the same: the content of these letters. The threats. The same logic is still there. If I don't reply their enforcement team will visit. If I do reply then they will visit. I have to say that I don't know why my 'details will be passed to the enforcement team'. They had my details long ago, along with enough authorisations to sink a battleship and refloat it afterwards.

It is this latest eruption into my otherwise peaceful life that prompts me to put my record of how TV Licensing behaves on the web. It's difficult to sleep when you are under attack and are powerless to strike back. By publicising their behaviour I may feel that I haven't just lain back and let them walk all over me. Perhaps I won't spend the night going over all of this in my head, time after time. It's not much, but maybe I'll get to sleep before dawn.

Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles

Audrey Tautou is cute. But sadly this isn't about the film of that name, or indeed about any of her films. There's nothing cute to talk about in this blog. There's a gap in the correspondence between TV Licensing and myself, that's all. I am sorry to disappoint.

And do I miss them? No, not really. I have fonder recollections of toothache. With toothache you can visit a dentist and get it excised.

Perhaps TV Licensing have decided to stop harassing me. But I don't know: after all that has happened up to this point, I feel sure that they lack the decency to apologise and end this on a civilised note. They are happy to leave me wondering whether tomorrow, or maybe the day after, the man with a search warrant is suddenly on my doorstep. So my nerves still fry. Perhaps that is the final hurt they can offer me.

A Late XMass Present For TV Licensing

First I was an engineer, then I was a programmer: neither of these professions are renowned for works of literary genius. But it happens that I do have some training: I used to write reports that went to the Ministry of Defence and to the Safety and Reliability Directorate. I won't ever win a Pulitzer Prize, but I am more than barely literate.

Here it is, the letter I hope will repel all hostile invaders. Because it is serious now, I put the letter together after careful thought. It costs an extra pound to send it by registered delivery, but I want them to be absolutely certain that I am not going to be easily crushed, and the Post Office will roll their eyes a bit if TV Licensing deny having received it.

I don't want to be pen pals but it seems we must.

I omitted the normal ending of 'yours sincerely'. Petty really, but 'sincerely' didn't seem to cover it and any words that would seemed abusive. Perhaps I should have outlined something in their favourite shade of 'stern but fair' red. TV Licensing seem to like that.

What really concerns me at this moment is that I am educated, and I can be articulate when sufficiently motivated. Hit me with a stick for long enough and I will fight back, and I have a fair chance of winning. But what happens to someone who doesn't have those characteristics: whose only sin is that they don't watch TV? I would have thought that this would be a matter of grave concern to the people in authority whose business it is to protect the average citizen. But TV licensing have been doing what they do for years. It seems the authorities, and the BBC, approve.

Who Was That Dark Stranger?

Am I paranoid? I'd say almost certainly yes. Perhaps it's the effect that TV Licensing have had on me. This has affected me, changed me. And remember, this hasn't been just for a year or two: my record of it starts when I moved house, but its been going on for longer.

I still don't know who that man in my porch was. But the next letter seems to imply that TV Licensing have been round. Was it them? Could their 'detection equipment' be a trespassing ear pressed to my front door? Strangers aren't in the habit of sheltering in my porch: perhaps this is a remarkable coincidence. I can't prove anything.

A New Friend In My Life That I Really Didn't Want

I have to say that at this point things are really scary. This is no form letter, this is close and it is personal now. I don't watch TV and I don't do anything that would require me to have a TV license. And yet these people claim to 'have reasonable grounds to believe that television receiving equipment is being used at this address'. So if the court finds me guilty based on these - unspecified - grounds I face a fine each and every time TV Licensing decide to prosecute me. I can't throw away a TV I don't possess. I can't stop watching TV programs when I never have watched them.

But there's a few things here that raise my spirits as I look over the letter. There's no reference at the top: in my day any competent bureaucrat would use a reference. And then, their threat is that they will get a search warrant, and even then they are only 'considering' doing it. So I doubt they think they have any grounds at all. And to cap it all, nobody at TV Licensing remembers to sign the letter. It's a lot more scary when you think the people attacking you are competent.

So maybe it's a search warrant next, and then they visit. But I doubt it, their record so far leaves me with little confidence of that. In fact, from what I've experienced, a visit is the one thing that is not going to occur. As usual there's the usual demand for money accompanying the threats. I won't pay, I'll send them a letter back. And this time I will exert myself.

Strangers In The Night

It's evening, it's dark and it's cold. I'm sat at my computer playing an online game. Ever had that weird feeling that someone's there? That chill when the hair on the back of your neck stands up? That happens to me now. I don't believe in a sixth sense, so maybe I heard something that didn't properly register: but I am not alone. It's scary, but even so I'm hardly believing what is happening as I head to the door.

I open the front door, and there, inside my porch, stands a total stranger. Middle aged, slightly built, narrow face, short brownish hair. I stare at him, he looks at me. He hands me the free newspaper that's been on the floor of the porch since it was dropped there two hours ago. I'm in shock. He doesn't say anything, he leaves as I stand there gawping.

Have I finally met a member of my local enforcement team? Are they really capable of committing trespass? Or do their inspectors have a special vocation to gather up errant newspapers? I don't know, even now I don't know what to think. But I did get a good long look at him, an oh so very close look, so I'll know him if I see him again.

My porch is enclosed. You have to open a door to get inside it. And I never found anyone lurking in my porch before, and I haven't since. But surely it can't be a man from TV Licensing? They have been informed they have no right of access and have accepted this.

As I said before I just gawped. So I am not a man of action, and that inescapable conclusion depresses me. When I was a young man I wanted to be the tough guy. Nothing unusual in that. At the time, the martial arts were popular, so I joined a Karate club. A lot of people did that, but they'd usually quit after a few months. I stuck at it and I got my black belt. We'd travel down to Crystal Palace and compete in the Nationals. We'd lose. On the nights before the Nationals we'd practise Kata, our opponents would practise Kumite. We competed in the Kumite. I never became a tough guy, but I've met a few.