Georgia Bound: 7 – Breakthrough
Chow time was rather entertaining. As soon as everyone was seated, the dealing began. “Biscuit for grits!” one would holler. “Eggs for sausage,” another would announce. I didn’t trade. I gave much of my food away usually asking a guy near me if he wanted the dead animal on my plate along with other items. In time, my giving was reciprocated. Eventually, people just started giving me some of their food. They know that I liked the cole slaw because it was the only version of raw vegetables we were allowed, so I got plenty of that.
I spent most of the time lying in my bunk. I usually didn’t fall asleep until I was exhausted from a lack thereof or weakened by the constant adrenalin surge coursing through my body. My mind was in utter disarray. I could not recall simple things like and address or a phone number. After a couple of days, I finally remembered my wife’s number.
The phones were a real piece of work. Only collect calls could be made and the person on the other end had to set up an account with the provider in order to accept calls. I was given a free sixty seconds to talk to Jenni before we were cut off and she was required to render her credit card number. If she did not remain on the line after our call, she would not be able to create the account and I would not be able to call her again. I made the best of my one minute. “Jenni, please give me Kayla’s number. She’s the only person I know in all of Georgia and I need to know what progress she has made on getting me out of here.” I was short and to the point. Jenni gave me the number and wished me luck. She did not start an account.
I tried the number. No answer! I tried it again and again. Still! No answer. Had Jenni given me Kayla’s old number? At this point, it didn’t matter. It was all I had. I must have tried that number fifty times in ten days. There was never an answer. In my melancholy state, I considered asking to be moved back to solitary confinement but I didn’t. I had two things that kept me going. I had two things that eased the pain. One was a little piece of paper with Kayla’s number. The other was a song that kept resounding through my head. It was a song from a video that my friend, Jaki, had shared with me. It gave me a place deep inside where I could go for solace and comfort. It gave me a place in the far corners of my mind where I could rekindle a spark of hope.
Eventually, I had a breakthrough! I realized that every mistake I had ever made was a direct result of alcohol consumption. I decided that I would simply never drink again. I felt I had a new lease on life! Now I could live my life with no regrets of embarrassing incidents. I would turn the tables and make a difference. I would share this with the world for a number of reasons. One was so that it would not be thrown in my face later, like some skeleton in my closet. Another was so I could maybe help those with drinking problems by being a testament of hope. Finally, I now understood what captivity was!
There is no possible way to convey such an ordeal to those of you who have not experienced it. I, however, have a fraction of a glimpse on what our dolphin friends must be experiencing in their concrete prisons. I can only imagine what they are going through simply by not knowing if or when they will be able to go home; assuming and hoping that each show, that each silly trick, that each obeyed command may be the last before they are finally rewarded with freedom.
Dolphins are highly intelligent. They have been deemed by science as second in intelligence to man. I beg to differ. They understand our language. Hell! Ask their slave drivers (trainers)! Scientists are just barely beginning to decipher the language of these sentient souls yet these marine mammals have no problem understanding man’s communication efforts, whether it be by spoken or sign language.
So why doesn’t SeaWorld, Marineland, Miami Seaquarium, Georgia Aquarium or any other marine mammal slavery theme park simply tell their captors that they have been sentenced to life in captivity? I’ll tell you why. It is because there is a chance that the cetaceans may attempt or commit suicide. This is something I can relate to. I do understand what it is like to be so laden with emotional pain that there seems to be only one way to escape it. The sad thing is that it’s the one and only way for the dolphins to escape their life sentence early and the theme parks are well aware of this.
Dolphin Jumps Out of Tank!
“Where there is a mind, there are feelings such as pain, pleasure, and joy. No sentient being wants pain: all wants happiness instead.” – Dalai Lama
Dolphins Hurl Themselves Against Rocks to Escape Taiji Butchers
“It all comes down to pain and suffering. Not intelligence, not strength, not social class or civil right. Pain and suffering are, in themselves, bad and should be prevented or minimized, irrespective of the race, sex, or species of the being that suffers.” – Joaquin Phoenix | quote from EARTHLINGS
“There’s about as much educational benefit studying dolphins in captivity as there would be studying mankind by only observing prisoners held in solitary.” – Jacques Cousteau
“Science and the law can both help us forecast the consequences of our actions, but neither can tell us how we ought to act in a moral sense.” – Dalai Lama
“A time comes when silence is betrayal.” – Martin Luther King
Did you know? An Orca (Killer Whale) is a Dolphin.
Georgia Bound Saga: More to Come!
- Ask ATT and Coca-Cola Why They Support Dolphin Slavery (holisecleveland.wordpress.com)
- Scientists Plan To Chat With Dolphins (blogs.wsj.com)
- Translator Puts Us Closer To Dolphin Communication (idle.slashdot.org)
- “@ATT Proudly Supports Dolphin Slavery (holisecleveland.wordpress.com)
- Community Rally, Georgia Aquarium (holisecleveland.wordpress.com)
- Georgia Bound – One: New York (holisecleveland.wordpress.com)
- Wild dolphins at play (chimac.net)
- Georgia Bound: 6 – Population (holisecleveland.wordpress.com)