Open letter to Don McKellar and Bruce McDonald

Don McKellar and Bruce McDonald, I adore you. Why have you forsaken me? Why is it still impossible to get the truly delightful, transcendant show Twitch City on DVD? I love you guys. I saw eXistenZ even though it was a David Cronenberg movie. I saw it in the theater. My god, what awful shlock that was. But I digress. I curse myself daily, or at least monthly, that I didn't record it while I had the chance. Naively, I hoped for better. I have waited patiently, hopefully, thinking ahead to better times, yearning to see Callum Keith Rennie as Newbie once more, remembering fondly the catfood killer. Bonding with Canadians -- Canadians! -- in hopes of finding a partner in mourning, someone to share the memories of better times gone by. And yet as the years have passed no DVDs, no reairings, not even a solitary crappy quality VHS tape, have been forthcoming. I am at the end of my tether. Decimated, dashed, as crumpled as a used Kleenex at the bottom of the deepest compartment of my mom's faux-leather purse.

Please, Don McKellar and Bruce McDonald, tell me that my long torment is almost over. Tell me that this DVD is in the works. Tell me that I'll be able to smile again.

Love,
Kieran Margaret