Friday, June 27, 2003

What crap. Downstairs, where there had been a harmless if perhaps fruity gift card shop (a' la Hallmark) and a cable television office, there is now a GOLF SCHOOL.

I hate golf as a cultural institution, so clique-ridden, so WASPy, such an atavistic representation of the worst of bourgeois "lifestyle". I hate its marketing, its commercialisation which panders to the geriatric, the whitebread and the culturally reactionary. I hate its ecological effects : it is or should be the poster child for recreational resource waste. The golf course, as a cultural institution, is a modern version of the English fox hunter's game preserve : a carefully managed and incredibly wasteful bit of pleasure kept exclusively for the privileged few.

Fuck golf. Golfers should be set on fire. There are but two good things to be said of golf: that it made
possible, and that such a disproportional number of its players are fatally struck by lightning.

Falling Down
, despite its other flaws, has one of the best anti-golf rants, ever.