It’s sort of like playing with fire. Or, is it playing with dynamite?
I guess with all the violence in society nowadays, it should be stated, this is metaphorically speaking. Gosh, I love that phrase, “metaphorically speaking…”
But is it?
Note to thought police: with the word “killing” in the title, along with “fire” and “dynamite,” as well as the repeated case of “killing” in this article, you’ve got to think the thought police are out in force. In an uproar. With pitch forks.
Can’t somebody just do something. Anything.
We’ll see.
N0. The killing in this post, sadly, isn’t metaphorical. Not at all.
Do something about this!
Teens can’t openly talk about killing and get away with it. Can they?
Now hold on
I don’t know if I want to back up? Jump ahead?
Or both?
At your service.
This is Kaila, 16 years old, San Diego. 
Ready to get the summer started. Only I’m not sure how to ease into this one.
Sometimes, it’s better to just jump.
Splash!
Jump right on in. The water’s fine.
Or is it?
Not to get all MLK on you. Again, but, I had a dream.
Pull up a chair, grab your favorite beverage. Is there a Starbucks nearby?
And a box of tissue. Huh?
Or, is it a nightmare?
Killing Them Softly
They’re small fishing boats. Over a dozen of them making arcs over the water. It’s a small bay.
These men have serious looks on their faces. No smiling. No joy in their work. They know they’re being watched.
Yes, you and I are watching.
Now, we just need the world. To watch.
We’ll see.
The men in the boats extend long poles from the side of their boats. Poking the poles into the water.
They’re banging with the poles. And on the side of the boats.
Are you watching? 
It’s a round-up. Only this ain’t cattle. And this isn’t Dodge City.
It’s pods.
Pods of beautiful dolphins. They’re swimming fast panicked. Confused. Dazed.
Across the bay, other boats are running long nets. Closing off the mouth of the bay.
There’s no place for the dolphins to escape. The boats circle. They continue to herd the dolphins tighter. Closer.
Beautiful.
Helpless.
Dolphins.
There’s no place for them to swim.
But wait, this is a public beach.
Really?
A public beach.
How can this happen? But it is. Still. Today.
Taiji, Japan.
The boats circle tighter and tighter.
Divers with full wetsuits. I grew up loving wetsuits. Wetsuits represent surfing. Fun.
Not today. They represent death.
Agony.
Shame.
Other men are wading out from the sandy beach. The dolphins are exhausted. Nowhere to swim.
The men carry spikes. They use the spikesto pull the dolphins by their spouts.
Daddy dolphins.
Mommy dolphins.
And, yes, baby dolphins.
I remember reading somewhere that a Japanese fisherman said about the dolphins, “we’re killing them softly.”
Killing them softly.
Killing…
Softly.
I’ll bet it doesn’t seem softly to the dolphins.
I sit up in my bed. In a cold sweat. My sheets are soaked.
Crying.
Dispair.
This can’t be real. But it is.
Taiji, Japan. Every year. It’s a public beach.
Does this make someone proud to be Japanese?
Dignified?
Self-respecting?
Am I allowed to ask?
What to do?
Reconnaissance:
An exploratory survey or examination, as in seeking out information about enemy positions or “installations.”– Websters New World College Dictionary Fifth Edition
Make a reconnaissance run?
See what’s there.
Could we do a dolphin paddle-out one day?
A dolphin awareness paddle-out.
When a surfer dies, they have a paddle-out. It’s a big circle of surfers. All celebrating their surfer friend. That died. Don’t you think these beautiful dolphins deserve a surfer paddle-out. They are The Original Surfers.
What do you think?
A gofundme.com campaign.
Stay tuned.
It’s just a really bad dream, is all.
Killing them softly.
Softly.
Go back to sleep.
There’s nothing you can do. You’re only 16. And, you’re just a girl.
Nothing you can do.
Maybe we can start small. A little ole reconnaissance run. Nothing big…
What do you think?
Who’s going to Japan this summer.
Who wants to save some dolphins?
A “The Original Surfers” Mystery Tour.
