Captain’s Log, Stardate October 14, 2007.

Space … the final frontier. Once again, the Starship Enterprise is boldly going where no civilized man has gone before. I am about to join Mr. Spock on a bizarre world called Planet Rhode Island. We had to ask Scotty to put the Enterprise in reverse warp-speed to go back in time, since records show Planet Rhode Island no longer exists, having been declared bankrupt in 2012, and placed under receivership by the federal government, which sold off its parts to Connecticut, Massachusetts and Florida. Mr. Sulu, beam me down.

“Good to have you join us, Captain.”

“Spock, what is this place? It’s swarming with FBI agents. Is it some criminal headquarters? Some early model for the Klingons?”

“No, Captain. It’s the Rhode Island State House.”

“Why all these agents?”

“Apparently, Captain, the former Senate majority leader, one Gerard Martineau, undertook a circuitous machination to…”

“Damn it, Spock, can you put it in plain, non-Vulcan English?”

“He sold his votes for money.”

“The population must be shocked.”

“Not at all, Captain. Apparently it’s routine here. A former governor and the mayors of Pawtucket and Providence have gone to jail, and two chief justices were forced to resign.”

“Didn’t that teach public officials a lesson?”

“No, sir. That’s why there are so many FBI agents. They are said to have launched ‘Operation Dollar Bill,’ with seemingly half the State House in their sights.”

“ ‘Dollar Bill,’ Spock?”

“I believe, Captain, it refers to offering political favors in return for stuffing said bills in one’s pockets. There is a low regard for ethics on this planet. It strikes me as illogical. It is not the only illogical aspect I’ve encountered.”

“It gets worse?”

“Much worse, Captain. Apparently, economies are booming across this galaxy, with 40 of 50 states, including Louisiana, running budget surpluses. But Planet Rhode Island is facing a $300-million deficit, with the same or worse projected for a decade. This will soon prompt a downgrade in state bonds, which will exacerbate the death spiral.”

“How could it have come to this, Spock?”

“It seems that in the last decade, state government spending has gone up by 80 percent.”

“Impossible. Why don’t they cut it?”

“The governor has tried, but has met fierce resistance from the opposition, called Democrats, which hold a majority in the General Assembly.”

“How big a majority, Spock?”

“It’s 85-percent Democratic.”

“My God, Spock, I thought one-party states in this galaxy went out in 1989 when Communism collapsed.”

“Planet Rhode Island remains a curious relic, sir.”

“But why don’t these — Democrats are they called? — what’s stopping them from balancing the budget?”

“They appear to be infiltrated by, and beholden to, public employee unions, which are the very recipients of said budget.”

“Fascinating, Spock. It seems this planet has organized itself into the perfectly self-destructive organism.”

“Indeed, sir. As one example, the normal life forms here — taxpayers, they’re called — spent $350 million this year on the state pension system. Next year, it will be $400 million, meaning taxpayers have gone from footing 10 percent of government pension costs in 1999 to 25 percent today. Not to mention that the unfunded pension liability has risen to a preposterous $4.9 billion. But even whisper the words ‘pension reform’ and you’ll be lynched.”

“Madness, Mr. Spock. Pure madness. There must be a solution. Can’t this planet attract new businesses to expand the tax base?”

“Not likely, Captain. Just last week, an objective tax-research group in Washington ranked Planet Rhode Island dead last in the whole galaxy of 50 planets for business climate.”

“Dead last indeed, Mr. Spock — emphasis on the word ‘dead.’ No need to raise your eyebrow. It was meant as irony.”

“Irony, Captain?”

“It’s a human emotion you Vulcans aren’t familiar with. There’s got to be a solution. Can’t this planet attract more high-net-worth taxpayers?”

“Indeed, the 2 percent of Rhode Islanders who make over $200,000 pay 44 percent of all taxes, but oddly, Captain, they are being chased away. If you start to make a high income here, the state will tax you an unheard of 9.9 percent, not to mention that property taxes are almost the highest in the galaxy. All high-income life forms here are fleeing to planets like Florida, which have lower taxes. And ironically — is that the word, Captain? — such low-tax states have budget surpluses.”

“Why doesn’t Planet Rhode Island try the same system?”

“Like I said, Captain, it’s a strangely illogical place.”

“If the wealthy, job-creating life forms are leaving, who is staying?”

“People on assistance like it here, Captain. The average stay on welfare in other planets is 22 months. In Planet Rhode Island, it’s 39 months.”

“Is it not our duty, Spock, to stand on top of this dome and shout to these poor souls to change before it’s too late?”

“It won’t do any good, Captain. It’s about leadership, which is more interested in helping their friends today than helping the planet tomorrow. Which gets us back to all these FBI agents.”

“My heart is breaking, Mr. Spock.”

“Breaking? No need, Captain. I find this planet peculiar, but they seem content with their unfathomable choices.”

“Enterprise, come in. Mr. Sulu — I’ve seen enough. Beam us up.”

Captain’s Log, Stardate 8118.

It is good to be back in my own time, but I am still shaken, having indeed seen the final frontier. If they only knew on this planet that they still had a chance to live long and prosper. But alas, I can only quote Mr. Spock. Not all corners of the universe are logical. Kirk, out.

mpatinkin@projo.com