"Jonah and the Whale" is a Fishy Story

JONAH AND THE WHALE IS A FISHY STORY

Call me Orca.

I’ve got a whale of a tale to tell, and I spout no lies.

You think you know the story of Jonah and the whale, right? A big, ugly whale swallows Jonah, right? Jonah spends days in the whale’s belly, before God releases him and the whale exits, (as the audience loudly boos) stage right, to wild applause, right?

You’ve seen drawings of an evil, ugly or just plain dumb whale, covered in tattoos, including “Mammal Without a Cause,” “I 8 Jonah,” “Blow Hardy,” and "Born to Swim."

Forget all that. You know, whales have the largest brains in the animal kingdom (and much bigger than Jonah's.He flunked kindergarten.) And, they’ve been shown to exhibit empathy. (The fancy term is “emotional intelligence." Raise your hands if you know any humans missing that trait.)

The traditional “Jonah and the Whale” story is pure blubber, just a red herring, so to speak. If you believe that tale, I’ve got a used ark to sell you, and I’ll throw in a couple of unicorns.

You’ve only heard one side of the story – Jonah’s side. So, why do you believe Jonah, a guy who (1) disobeys the Lord, (2) runs away, and (3) tells the Lord that He’s not tough enough. What chutzpah. I don’t want to throw seaweed on Jonah’s character – God forbid. I’ll just leave you with one word: Check his police files.

I know: That’s more than one word. So sue me. I’m a whale, not an accountant.

Ever been fingered as a villain when you know you’re really a good guy? Ever hear a story where the whale is a good guy? Think Pinocchio. Think Moby Dick. Think “Orca, the Killer Whale.” (“Orca” means “Bringer of death.” Enough said? (Willie, “Free Willy” doesn’t count. What a wimp.)

Whales get a bum deal, with no one on our side: Ahab is dead. Melville is dead. “Pinocchio” surely is dead by now (reportedly eaten by termites).

My agent got me auditions for two animal movies, but no one would touch me because of my bad guy rep. Remember Dumbo? They wanted a big lovable flying animal. So who got it? Dumbo. Dumbo, the Dumb Elephant. Dumbo, the Dumb Elephant who can’t fly. (Neither can I, but at least I swim.)

Next they wanted a big, lovable animal for a musical comedy. My agent pitched me for that, too. Guess who they chose: Shrek. An ogre. Imagine what that did to my self-esteem, losing out to an ogre. They did offer me the part of Bambi’s mom in a musical revival; remember how that turned out for her?

Me, I’m stuck with canned tuna commercials.

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So here’s the real story of Jonah and Me.

The first part is pretty much true. The Lord asks Jonah to tell the people of Ninevah to change their evil ways within 40 days or face the Lord’s wrath. (What’s with this “40” thing, anyway? First Noah’s 40-day flood, then Jonah. And didn’t Moses spend 40 years in the desert? The Lord’s got some issues.)

Jonah thinks the Lord is too soft to really punish the Ninevians, so why should he stick his neck out. Instead, he dog-paddles to Spain.

Here’s where it gets dicey. According to the Bible, The Lord finds Jonah hidden away on a ship to Tarshish. No room service, no clean sheets. It’s the Super 8 Motel for animals. Then he sends a big storm to punish him. The crew blames Jonah and tosses him overboard. Jonah gets swallowed by yours truly and spends three miserable days in my belly. Jonah repents and The Lord makes me spit him out. Jonah goes to Ninevah, convinces the Bad Ninevians to become Good Ninevians, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Everyone but me, that is. Now, the “swallowed by a whale” part is true, as far as that goes. But, I get stuck with the label of “Instrument of The Lord’s wrath” – a label I’ve never been able to live down. (“Hey, Sid. We need an instrument of the Lord’s wrath; See if Orca is available.”)

So now, whenever I apply for a job, they check my rap sheet and see that I swallowed and tortured a prophet. Try to get a job with that albatross hanging around your neck. (Albatross: another animal that got a bum rap.)

So here’s the real story. I saw Jonah floating in the turbulent sea – and it really was a perfect storm – (another movie I couldn’t even audition for). I rescued him. Swallowing him wasn’t even my idea. Don’t take my word for it. Read your Bible: “And the Lord appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah.” Get that: It was the Lord’s idea, and I am, quote, “a great fish.” (Never mind I’m a mammal.)

Then there’s the three wretched days I spend with that wimp in my belly. Wretched, my fin. What did they expect: cable TV, room service and a continental breakfast? I gave him dry clothes and seaweed. More than he deserved.

So what do I get in return? Bupkis. Not so much as a thank-you.

According to the Bible, Jonah made nice with God, then made the Ninevians make nice. They did, and the Lord let them off the hook. (Ouch!)

So Jonah belly-ached to God for going too easy on the Ninevians, and God claimed to pity them because they were, and I quote, “more than a hundred twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle.”

Does God ask how I am? 

I have no idea whether Jonah lived happily ever after. Frankly, I don’t care. They made him an official “prophet” and named a chapter in the Bible after him. I’ll bet someone has written a movie script, casting Jonah as small town police chief and the town gets attacked by . . . you guessed it . . . a killer whale. And guess what eventually happens to the whale?

I can already hear the pounding theme music.

Title: “Blow Hard.”

Moral? Be careful what you swallow, and make sure to chew.