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Phil Austin Headshot Here's a letter delivered to your illustrious Freditor from Phil Austin, dated 1/27/98:

The new Firesign Theatre album has definitely reached a verifiable state of actuality. Proctor, Ossman, Austin and Bergman have written now for about 20 days and have therefore accumulated enough pages of script to go into the studio just as soon as the contract is signed with Rhino. According to Frank (the Country Gentleman) Stewart, our lawyer, signing is imminent. Frank reports as well that Eagle Products, in Kansas City, is once again to market their stunningly crude line of Bearwhiz T-shirts and so are sending us large amounts of money. We are happy for this, and we urge you to buy pictures of bears urinating on motorcycles, as a kind of bizarre ritual whose deeper meanings have their explanations in the works of Claude Levi-Strauss.

As you can imagine, the experience of having the Firesign Theatre itself in a room, facing its full self for 6 or 7 hours every day for 20 days, spread from November until (as of now) late January - you can imagine that this experience is somewhat ... hmmmmm. Metaphorical? Could be, could be .... I was right about the comet. (But I've forgotten why, exactly.) In other words, the whole experience has been even more amazing than I imagined it might be. And when I was imagining, there was no reason to believe that it would ever happen, for any reason, so many bridges were burning behind and around us.

Now here's the deal. The piece we're working on - still untitled as of this moment - is the real thing, this much I can tell you. It's an actual Firesign Theatre classic album. It's got all four people working on something that contains no old material (although a few old favorite characters show up) and is a completely new story written from the ground up. It is certainly Millennial:

BEBOP: We've got a developing chase situation out on the Tribulation Highway. Let's go to Happy Pandit in News Chopper One ...
HAPPY: We knew it was going to be a hell of a rush out here through the last hours, but what's going on down below isn't going to make it any better. Evidently a big red convertible came right out of the sea and is going the wrong way - Against the Arrow of Time - and she's inbound, Bebop, she's inbound!
BEBOP: Madre de dios! Is it a babe for sure?
HAPPY: Either that or a clown with a lot of red hair. She's weaving and drinking out of a Gold Cup ... hold on ... the Highway Patrol says she's drinking a Bloody Mary ... or wait a minute, could be the Blood of Martyrs ...
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