Who the Bleep are the TAZ?

[Zukeenee]

Comm ID: Charlie, baby!
Transmit to: The Old Man Above the Clouds

Whew! It's been a while, huh? So, uh, how's everybody doing? Has anyone been watering my plants like I asked 'em to? No, wait, I forgot to ask... damn. Well. I'm sure I can bum some of the Golden Stuff offa' someone else for a bit, until I can get my little crop back on its feet. Or roots. Or whatever.

Anyway, that's right! I've taken my time off, spun around this fine little galaxy of ours, and wound up back here. Funny how that works, innit?

I spent a while on Freeport 14 like I said I would. A pretty desolate place, truth be told, but peaceful. The folks on the station were friendly, though not the most out-going of folk. I suppose that's why they packed up and left for Yukon in the first place. A good place to be alone. Well, I got a good taste of the true Zoner way there, as it was in the early pioneering days. Isolation.

Got old fast.

So I hitch-hiked a ride back to the heart of "civilization", right in the heart of good ol' Liberty. Pennsylvania. I didn't have the cash to settle down on Erie, and I didn't much want to anyway. I hear the place is being overrun by all sorts of cabbages nowadays. So I rented a small room in the living quarters of Bethlehem and found work in and around there.

Well.

I think we all know what Liberty's like. I wasn't there for long, either.

So then I realized that I was lookin' at this all the wrong way. I was seeing things in absolutes, in blacks and whites. Isolation against overpopulation. Old habits against new changes. Hodge against Podge. And that last one reminded me of our two little rocks of the same moniker, back home in Baffin. They have their dance, they clash every now and then, but they continue like that until there'll be nothing left of 'em. They're holding onto their black-and-white principles, neither yielding to the other, and they're dying because of it.

My ideals of what TAZ should be--of what it was and of what it is--were tearing me apart. I couldn't let go of my straight-jacket approach to our little flock. I couldn't have that going on inside me. I feel that, over the years, I'd gathered so many grids; so many variations of this so-called "reality" and stacked them on top on each other. I had so many of these grids stacked in front of my face that couldn't even see the light they were outlining anymore. So I took a trip to wipe it all clean. Bought myself another ship and flew all around Sirius, observing the Apparent Order and Disorder, bringing a sense of balance back to my life.

Well, I'm not gonna go on about it too much here. I figure a trip down to the Geode will do me good to clear me out once and for all and understand just what I've "learned."

So that's where we are. And now, the big question:

Can I come home now, please?

Lessee, where are those Questions Five you want all the recruits to answer? They must've changed since I applied all those years ago... Just show 'em to me, I'll give you a 23-page essay! I'll go out and herd Scrubbies for ya, I'll negotiate with those Gallic turds, I'll polish yer boots!

Just lemme back in, Mal. I'm ready to come home.

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