In the 90s, broadcasters received most of their death threats in the post. Inefficient. It takes time and effort to type out a letter, fold it up, put it in an envelope, find out an address, buy a stamp and post it. If someone can be bothered doing all that, how much further are they willing to go?
I've had two mailed death threats in my life. One hand-written, the other a cliched mess of letters cut from a newspaper. It related to a TV piece called "Cunstables". "Think you're smart? We know where you live. Watch your back on the streets. Won't be laughing when dead." Or words to that effect.
Nothing came of it. The sender was probably having a laugh. But I didn't like it. There's something unnerving about holding in your hand the same piece of paper recently held by your threatener.
Personally I prefer phone-call death threats. When I started at Radio Hauraki four years ago the station was transitioning from Classic Rock That Rocks into the enlightened musical format we all enjoy today. I was the first DJ of the new breed and, boy, did the listeners hate my guts. My first shift ended with an irate caller threatening to murder me and my co-host. "I'll be waiting with a hammer when you two fags leave the building, you're f***ing dead," he threatened. I'd describe a late-era Pink Floyd tune as shit and he wasn't going to take it.
The threats continued for weeks. We dubbed him "Death-Threat Dave" and he became part of our daily routine. One day "Death-Threat Dave" rang up. He sounded different. Almost tearful. After six months of threats he delivered some great news. I'd won him over and he didn't want to kill me anymore. Great result.
I got to know Death-Threat Dave quite well over the months. Turns out Death-Threat Dave's name was Greg. A plumber. The poor man was having trouble with the IRD. We told him to start a savings account and put his GST aside every week. Easier to manage that way. That helped. He was grateful and invited us fishing. We didn't go. I was worried he would drown us at sea.
In 2015 people prefer to threaten members of the media via social media. It's fast and easy but far from anonymous.
Two weeks ago my co-host's impersonation of a leading New Zealand broadcaster was taken out of context by certain people. An angry online mob quickly whipped itself into pointless existence. A classic shame pile-on.
Nestled in among the badly spelt insults and mindless musings, the odd death threat started to emerge.
Threatening someone via Facebook is a bold move. All your details are on display.
Of course, none of the threats are real. This is New Zealand. No one posting is actually going to hurt anyone. There is a huge gap between what people say and what they do. Even bigger between what they type into their computers, and get off their arse and actually enact.
Still, posting a death threat is a big move.
In the busy modern world in which we live, no one has time to get out the snips and paste anymore. Things are changing fast. But, as long as there are broadcasters pushing boundaries, people will find a way to threaten their lives. I can only imagine the wondrous ways they will do it in the future.
On a personal note, if you're out there, "Death-Threat Dave", give me a ring - it's been too long.
