Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Jonathan Franzen does not like golf.

My difficulty with golf is that, although I play it once or twice a year to be sociable, I dislike almost everything about it. The point of the game seems to be the methodical euthanizing of workday-sized chunks of time by well-off white men. Golf eats land, drinks water, displaces wildlife, fosters sprawl. I dislike the self-congratulations of its etiquette, the self-important hush of its television analysts. Most of all, I dislike how badly I play the game.
Jonathan Franzen, "The Way of the Puffin," The New Yorker 90 (April 21, 2008).

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