The first time I ever heard whale music — which became sorta popular at the dawn of the New Age phenomenon — I literally thought it was a joke. But, no. People literally recorded the mournful cries of whales and either released them as "solo" works or put gentle, peace-inducing backing tracks comprised of lush strings or oboes or flutes or even the sound of incense sticks smoldering into a microphone.

Interestingly, all of the people who were engaged in this work looked like Jesus. Except the women, obviously, who all wore muslin gowns and danced 'round poles dedicated to the month of May.

Anyhoo, the tender melodies of the great sea-beasts brought moments of wonderful and pastoral repose — and then the whales leaped out of the sea and killed everyone!

No, seriously. Think about this in light of the latest killer whale/human tragedy at amusement parks. Maybe the whale's music was a sort of primitive Siren's Song — designed to lull us into trust and comfort so they could turn on us and shred us like sides of mutton tossed into a hay thresher!

Or perhaps killer whales have their own music distinct from the New Agey peace-shrieks of the other whales. And the killer whale music sounds like Norwegian Satan Metal, only with a slight, effervescent bubbly tone because, after all, it's underwater.

This all makes me nervous. My own dog, the beloved Gumbo, has started taking French horn lessons. He writes lovely, melancholy pieces — Impressionistic tone poems, really — but, as he plays, his eyes follow me as I move around the room. There is a dark glint in them, a predatory sparkle, and he has started a knife collection.

This is what happens when we let animals make New Age music — and nothing good will come of it!