January 2004 | Is anybody out there, just nod if you can hear me

There are people out there, at least two of them (OK, at most two, whatever), who know that tiny dog has lost its mind, here in the dregs of 2K3, as evidenced (in one way of many) by the new year's screed at right, said to be shrill and even, yes, bread rant-like* (whatever Makry, you're just jealous).

Tiny dog is having a crisis of the printed word, and what it has to know is, reader, are you out there. Having recently stumbled across a plethora of "modern" style websites writing zippy little peices on pop culture and other matters of interest to 25 year olds that I seem to lack the patience to read, tiny dog must conclude with resignation that this web site, like the hypothetical cell phone described in bullet point number one at right, is merely ringing into the din of cold, black space.

Say it is not so, people. Send us your letters, immediately, with your comments on the tiny dog you know so far, and the new, improved tiny dog you want to see in 2K4. Your feedback is critical to our survival. If you do not send your e-mails immediately, you will tune in and find that this site has become a smoking crater in the vast and rocky moon that is the Internet. OK, that is a sulky lie since I have renewed the domain name for another zillion years. But whatever. The spirit of the threat remains, in some vague and petulant way.

People, what is it you want from tiny dog... reviews? Advice? Celebrity profiles? (ok, owing to our pathological hatred of celebrities, that's not gonna happen.) Letters? (admittedly the letters page was once popular, and if yours is not obscene, I will print it this time, I swear). You need to put these thoughts into e-mail post-haste, and ship them to tiny dog before the swirling winds of apathy and idleness cause you to forget.

We here at tiny dog demand that you send a letter immediately to mail@tiny-dog.com, unless you think this site is about dogs, or you are spamming me, in which case, I would look behind yourself when you are walking alone in dark parking lots. For I will be there, seeking sweet revenge.

*bread rant: One time in the car on the way to Sea-Tac airport, my brother flew into an unhinged rage at the factthat grocery stores place staple items like bread on the bottom shelves, out of reach, placing pointless items they want to market conveniently at eye-level. It was in a larger sense a condemnation of American values, and has come to symbolize all breathless tirades against "society" (a key word used in bread rants... let's check to see if I used it at right... no, but I used "conspiracy." Same thing.)

Hey, peeps. Send mail to mail@tiny-dog.com.