I am a veteran of the War on Christmas. I am just emerging from a battlefield strewn with dead trees and torn shreds of brightly colored wrapping paper.

I am on until I am dead, like a light bulb.

I am one of the crucified dead.

I am an employment hyena. I am happy to make a meal of what the lions leave behind.

I mean I appreciate fan mail and that the people like what I am doing but I can't answer it. If I would answer 25 letters a day I would be just a guy answering mail and not an artist anymore.

As long as I am nothing but a ghost of the civil dead, I can do nothing.