Living in fear of tabloid tv's 'They'

"THEY" lurk around every corner waiting to do mischief.

HERE I am, fresh from another "They" weekend, and I'm feeling a bit scathed (as opposed to un-).

What's a "They" weekend, I hear you ask?

It's time spent with my sister who watches tabloid television and has been so indoctrinated by it that she believes "They" lurk around every corner waiting to do mischief.

"They" can find your computer in your house unless it's switched off and disconnected from a power source, she tells me with more than just a hint of excitement in her voice. "They" have scanners that can find such items no matter where you hide them.

"They" will break into my house and steal my generic brand smart tv off the wall, and may bait my dog in order to do so. No matter that "They" can probably buy a better one from a pawn shop for less than a packet of rat poison and a quarter kilo of mince, and with much less effort.

"They" will smash the glass panel in my front door unless I have a security mesh screen door.

"They" will skim my credit card details while I'm sitting at the local cafe, unless I keep my cards in a scam-proof metal canister. (To be honest, it might be a relief if someone stole my card details; they may well spend less money than I currently do.)

"They" will steal my rusting, very second-hand mountain bike from where I leave it (chained) outside that vulnerable front door so I am shamed into riding it to anywhere local rather than be lazy and hop in my car. When I point out the wheels are chained together with a heavy-duty steel cable, she counters that "They" will throw it in their truck and cut the cable when they get it home. When I ask her who "They" are, she can't tell me of course. Apparently they're anybody capable of the antisocial behaviour that the tabloids feel they should publicise in order to sell the many gadgets they are constantly spruiking. Because there's always a gadget, and my sister owns them all.

"They" (and now I'm talking about the tabloid world, where Kochie and Grimshaw are king and queen, and Liz Hayes is the dowager duchess), peddle fear among their many viewers, and make a fortune doing so.

No matter that I have fairly modest tastes in homewares, reasonable security measures and a large dog with big teeth and a propensity for barking loudly at anyone who comes to the front door or the side gate. Despite her poodle status, with all that implies, she's an enthusiastic and conscientious guard dog who looks like she'd take your leg off if she didn't like the cut of your jib.

I refuse to live behind bars, in fear. "They" can take a flying leap.