Full credit must be given to BBC for their decision to air Storyville: India's Daughter on Friday, ahead of schedule, in response to the lunacy displayed yesterday in India's Parliament, and by the attempts to ban the screening of the film, not just in India, but absurdly beyond the country's borders as well.
The Committee suggests that the licence fee should be extended to cover catch-up TV and that some BBC services might be provided on subscription. But beyond this it recommends only "careful thought".
Without the license fee, the BBC wouldn't have been able to establish the web services leaving other broadcasters in the shade - my service users would consider that a reason for keeping the fee, not abolishing it, and like any business owner I should put them first, surely?
I start to think about the writer I want to be. Maybe I'll get really good at Twitter. I could become one of those writers who has their finger on the pulse and can talk about Newsnight and the latest series of Ex on the Beach, Yeah, maybs. I turn the wifi back on.
With the greatest of respect, TV fiction is like other fiction types. It is escapism. It suspends the boundaries of reality. That is, after all the only possible reason the writers on Eastenders get away with entire families living in large houses in London, whilst earning no money for themselves.
Anyone not wanting to attend university is often force-fed the idea that apprenticeships are the way forward. Nearly half a million people started an apprenticeship in the 2013/14 academic year, including, surprisingly, more than 80,000 people aged over 35...
It's a golden age. A purple patch. A triumph of style and substance. Ring out the cliches, because UK telly drama is the cat's pyjamas right now. You don't need to be Sherlock to recognise the quality of the scripted stuff on our screens last year.
Is Rona Fairhead doomed to be the very last chair of the BBC Trust? The chair is a basket-case of a job in which you can please no one, achieve nothing and the chances are high that you'll end up wondering why you ever applied in the first place.
Mantel understood that her More, like her Cromwell and her Anne, reflects cultural projections and agendas no less than Bolt's. "All historical fiction is really contemporary fiction," she told me, "We always write from our own time."
Of course I felt a little nervous submitting my application, but when I read the words "only the fittest, strongest, bravest and toughest need apply" on the website, I felt inspired and thought, go for it!! I read the terms and conditions and all the information on the website more than once. No-where did it stipulate that women aren't eligible to apply.
The BBC highlight three particular problems: the care system is horrendously complex and about to get more so; it is massively underfunded; and the government's planned cap on care costs being introduced next year will help very few older people pay for care.
I can't help but think that it must be hard for The Sun's readers to absorb credible stories about women, since the first image they are met with is boobs.
It's how and why the memories of one of the darkest moments in human history should be kept alive that formed the theme of the film. And during the months making it I was struck by the myriad of ways those who suffered the atrocities of the Holocaust have chosen to pass their memories on. How they refuse to allow the echo of what they witnessed fade.
There's a virus spreading across this land. It's been there festering in dingy backwater pubs for decades, but slowly it's eating its way further into the general public. And it goes by the name of darts.
These days I've become increasingly bored of television formats and much prefer the company of my laptop, the neighbours cat (who wanders through my conservatory in a daily escape bid from captivity) and a mug of beef tea.
He also told us that he and Paul McCartney used to go around London by bus sometimes, and people would look at Paul in a wondering sort of way and then think "no, can't be" and leave them alone. Not something that would happen today with all the camera phones and selfies.