I remember when I was seven or eight my mother read me a book about a boy who crawled inside his TV and lived in different TV shows. He had a magical and enriching experience, but eventually the boy left TV and went home. He was, however, a better person because of the experiences he had. A few days after I heard this story I tried to climb inside my TV but there didn’t seem to be a way in. I saw this as a challenge. I placed the TV on one side of the room and ran towards it, my head down. When I regained consciousness my mother asked me what had happened. I told her that I had been attacked by a magical gnome. Sadly, unknown to me at the time, there was a magical gnome living across the street. Apparently he was cheerful little man, but my mother believed he had attacked me so she ripped out his heart and made a jacket out of his skin. Years later when I told her the truth we all laughed, except for the gnome because he was dead. TV can be dangerous.