Lo, the Malibu Dolphin

If, as a wise man once said, the job of a newspaper columnist is to move in after the battle and shoot the wounded, I’m armed and ready to go.

The description is not to be taken literally, of course.

It simply means the job requires me to savage decent people who have done a good deed, or what they perceive to have been a good deed.

An example of such a deed would be if a coastal city suddenly declared that dolphins are henceforth to be considered naturalized citizens, and then vowed terrible consequences to any human who harmed one.

Once the deed is done and everyone is feeling good about having contributed to the welfare of a gentle marine mammal, I move in and make every effort to destroy the elation and create doubt and hatred.

Which brings me to Malibu, the City of Blue Eyes and Eternal Tans.

You remember Malibu. It was once declared a Nuclear Free Zone by honorary mayor Martin Sheen, who also, in a rush of magnanimity, invited the homeless in to set up their traditional cardboard condos along the golden beaches.

The homeless, thank God, never came, but Sheen’s Sanctus edictum had one noteworthy effect: Plans for creating an airfield for nuclear bombers on Pacific Coast Highway were scrapped by the Defense Department.

Malibu is also the place where an orchestra played at midnight on the beach to honor the common grunion, an otherwise forgettable fish, as a way of “uniting land and sea in symphonic harmony with nature’s eternal rhythm.”

Then they scooped in the fish by the bucketful and ate them.

Those of you who read and watch trivia in the news know that Malibu, while not actually naturalizing the dolphin, has now declared itself a sanctuary for the animal.

Exactly what, I hear you cry, does that mean?

Basically that the same guarantees apply to dolphins that apply to surfers. You can’t shoot, spear, net or capture for purposes of experimentation any dolphin (or surfer) using the ocean along the 26-mile Malibu coast.

Specifically, the City Council declared Malibu a human-dolphin-surfer shared environment. Well, human-dolphin, anyhow.

One of the purposes of the resolution, as explained by council member Missy Zeitsoff, is to voice strong objections to experiments conducted by the American military (damn them) on the “human-friendly” animals.

The dolphins, unlike surfers, are indeed intelligent and friendly creatures whose ability to think and mimic intrigues our generals. They feel there must be a way to channel those abilities into . . . well . . . neutralizing foreign humans with whom we do not agree.

The Japanese, for instance, might be wise to come to some sort of trade agreement with us before we develop the dolphin-bomb. Vomiting on their prime minister was only the beginning of what we are capable of doing.

At any rate, I asked Missy exactly how the military was mistreating the dolphin and she replied that, for one thing, the mammals are being forced to exist in water considerably too cold for their comfort.

I see.

Having gone through Marine Corps boot camp, I am certain there are other means by which the military has managed to abuse the dolphin, since they have always done so well at abusing their own recruits.

Forcing us to leap into cold water was one of the lesser cruelties.

Humans generally, I might add, have always managed a certain degree of ruthless behavior toward the creatures around us, including dogs, cats, parakeets and other living things less fortunate than the humans in Malibu.

That’s one good reason, for instance, why neither the shark nor the Bengal tiger has ever bothered to curry man’s favor.

In the future, Missy explained, Malibu will define more specifically what a marine mammal sanctuary means, other than warm baths for dolphins.

“A lawyer will figure it out,” she said. “It will be a place on the coast where X-Y-Z will be encouraged and X-Y-Z prohibited.”

Missy sought to elaborate on her own by suggesting that beach-goers will be encouraged not to steal the starfish frolicking in the surf and fishermen will be admonished not to shoot the seals that get into their nets.

“In case you haven’t heard,” Missy said somewhat defensively, “that’s a real problem.” No, I hadn’t heard, but Missy’s concern is good enough for me.

I’m actually not out to shoot the wounded in this case because I have nothing against dolphins. In fact, Malibu, like Bambi’s forest, ought to open itself to all lovable, liquid-eyed creatures.

It’s just too bad the Mexican dayworkers kicked out of their hiring center on Zuma Beach last year weren’t more lovable. They might’ve been one of the X-Y-Z’s encouraged to remain.