Near where I worked today, I watched a guy splitting a stack of rounds, looked like mostly oak, fresh, bright orange, red oak. As he split, the wife and kids were busy filling a pair of wheel barrows and lugging them into the daylight basement, I assume for "seasoning".
Then your neighbors will run from you, and your friends will disappear into the black void which is the rip in the space time continuum. 
I'm guessing they will never know the pleasure of burning truly seasoned firewood.