Letters to the Editor

Once upon a time, in the early days of photography, photographers would often find that there was inadequate light around their subjects for them to effectively expose their pictures. Instead, they got dim and smeary scenes, murky with darkness. This is still a problem today in many instances, and so almost all consumer cameras have integrated flash units. But in the nineteenth century, photographers had no such fancy devices, and so they had to resort to chemicals. They would mix two parts ground magnesium with three parts saltpetre carefully, place it in an elevated pan, and ignite it with a sparker. It would flash up in an instant, burning hot and bright, and lighting up a dim scene to be captured on photographic plates. This was their only substitute for the powerful and continuous light of the sun.

It is from this process that we get the phrase "flash in a pan." It indicates a powerful but exceedingly brief effort or action... the kind of effort that can light up a room for a moment, but fades back into smeary darkness in short order.

Too often, we get Talossans who are flashes in the pan.

The problem has been called many things: "30-day citizens," "temporary Talossans," and so on. But it all describes the same phenomenon - enthusiastic new citizens who apply for citizenship, put forth a burst of effort and activity, before fading away when they take up interest in something new.

And I think we all know why.

Many people immigrate because they feel it would be fun to pass laws, run a government, or get a title of rank. And to be sure, those things are fun. It is thrilling to author a new law which fixes a problem you can see in the country, convincing your peers to support it, and seeing it take effect. It is amazing to be appointed or elected to a position and do your best to fulfill your duty, enacting policies and doing the real work of government. It is inspiring to receive or witness someone receive a title of nobility, honouring long and hard efforts within your beloved country with an appropriate recognition. But that thrill, amazement, and inspiration can quickly fade when one sees that other people are there for the same reasons, and expect you to actually live up to your legislation, office, or title. And when that occurs, the bright flash fades, and we are left in night.

In essence, it comes down to that eternal line the nation walks, treading it with fear and care: country or club?

A club is something where everyone gets to participate as much as they would like, that gives out titles and awards for the fun of it, and can be quit when it ceases to be amusing. It doesn't matter much beyond amusement, and it never will.

A club is a flash in a pan, a series of staccato bright lights. It is loud and then dies.

A country stands for certain ideals and its citizens, building a better future through consistent effort and competition. Policies are enacted not because it's fun to change them, but because they represent a better version that will help the country...

A country is the sun.

One of the greatest issues of our time in Talossa is how to stop flashes in the pan, and bring in the sunlight. How do we ensure and emphasize the immigration of those who will open the windows, rather than those who spark and fade? What must be done to make sure that new citizens recognize that they are in a country, and not a club?

As a legislator and minister, I have tried to do my part. Please, consider what you can do for your part. Keep Talossa in the sun.
-The Right Honourable Alexander Davis
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Your newspaper sucks, everytime I read it I want to vomit.
-Alexandreu Gavártgic’h