"Hey, what say we go grab some harpoons, along with a really high powered rifle and go get us some whale!"

I'm thinking that's the kind of conversation that kicked off this weekend's slaughter - I refuse to call it a hunt - of a gray whale off the coast of Neah Bay.

Next thing you know there are 5 guys zipping around in a boat all jazzed up as the harpoons flew and the bullets whizzed.

I'm sure the group was filled with Indian treaty pride as the gray whale finally sank beneath the waves.

Never mind that they didn't have permission from the Makah tribal council to hunt the whale.

Never mind that they didn't have the necessary federal permit.

Never mind that the spiritual and cultural elements of a whale hunt were no where to be found.

Never mind any of that.

Wayne Johnson, the guy who says he's got whaling in his blood, just felt the time was right to go out and kill.

No blubber shared with the elders and the young.

No ancestral stories.

No respect for the whale or for Indian heritage.

Seems to me that Wayne Johnson has been living among the whites too long.

He sure picked up one of our worst traits.

Killing something just for the hell of it.