The Great Gazoo has returned to Earth again. He’s too busy to bother with nonsense like TPM registration, so he has asked me to convey his heartfelt regrets:

Well, dum-dums, now you’ve gone and done it. Since my brief stay on Earth during your Stone Age, I have devoted a small amount of my valuable time on Zatox monitoring your transmissions to see if any of my incredibly useful advice would take hold. (I am always right, you know - it’s a curse, but it is true.) On Zatox, I am the acknowledged expert on human affairs. If I but had the time, I could solve all of your problems in the blink of an eye. But I’m hard at work on another invention, and anyway, it’s more fun seeing you Earthlings try to get something right.

So imagine my profound disappointment at the recent election. Faced with intractable war, environmental calamity, energy depletion, financial panic, do you take the intelligent course and fall into hopeless despair and pessimism? No! You elect an intelligent, hard-working leader. One bent on solving all your insoluble problems instead of enriching his cronies! What a colossal waste of time.

I’m not the only one who feels this way; everyone on Zatox is stunned. From my observations and lectures, all of us on Zatox have developed such an intimate knowledge of your situation, indeed of your puny Earthling souls, that any of us would assure you that your noble efforts are doomed to certain failure. If only your forebears had listened to me.

Thanksgiving, indeed.

P.S. I would gladly send you a smaller version of my universal doomsday device, if the authorities would only allow it. (Philistines!)