
Okay, well ... I'll be frank with you. (Just call me "Frank" from now on.) We are grasping at straws here in Big Green land, now that our interstellar tour has been scuttled. And here it is, the holidays. We were thinking that we'd be traversing interstellar space when Christmas week came, but no dice. Trouble is, that was going to be our excuse for not getting anyone presents - sorry folks, we're headed to a big gig on planet KIC 8462852. No time to shop! Well, THAT'S out the window. Any other good ideas for cheapskates?
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) humbly suggested we hand out signed copies of our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas, which appropriately follows a theme somewhat tangentially related to the holidays. Of course, we've resorted to that tactic before - it's been a full 17 years since we put the sucker out, so everyone we know (and quite a few people we don't know) has a copy. By this point, they're stacking them under broken table legs and using them for drink coasters. I saw one of our friends re-purposing the jewel cases. Talk about a post-apocalyptic music hell-scape - people are mining our album like it's a natural resource. (And it's anything but natural.)

For the holiday week itself, we may put out a rerun podcast with some additional "members only" elements. (Oh, right - we don't have membership levels. Scratch that.) Back to the grind, boys!