Thursday, August 31, 2006

War on Terror Getting You Down?

It's a drag, all this Warring Against Terror. During every ill-defined, murderous, morally dubious annexation of foreign oil, it's only natural that we should lose heart every now and then.

The eternal questions, "Was it right to invade Iraq?", "Was it right to bomb the almighty fuck out of all those Arabs?" and "Jesus Christ, is that a brown guy with a backpack? Somebody call the firearms unit!".

It's good to know that in these times of uncertainty there are just wars, causes we can all truly believe in. Ladies and gentlemen, you are invited to tie a yellow ribbon round whatever you think most appropriate, hoist the flag and show your support for the troops bravely fighting in Venezuela's principled and righteous War on Golf.

"The mayor of Venezuela's capital Caracas says he plans to expropriate two exclusive golf courses and use the land for homes for the city's poor.... Mayor Juan Barreto has said playing golf on lavish courses within sight of the city's slums is "shameful"...

... Mr Barreto had ordered the "forced acquisition" of the golf courses, city attorney Juan Manuel Vadell told the Associated Press... The golf courses... are in the city's most affluent suburbs, home to millionaires, foreign diplomats and celebrities, and are seen by some as a haven for the rich... Mr Barreto has said 5,000 people could be housed in the space taken up by a single golf course."

Now, don't get me wrong here - I couldn't give a damn about the suffering poor of Venezuelan slums, but I am deeply enthusiastic about anything that annoys golfers.

If, like me, you are rendered apopleptic by the sight of Pringle jumpers, now is our time. If ever a sub-group of society merited dehumanisation, persecution and the deprivation of their assets, it's golfers.

I know whereof I speak - I hail from a part of Scotland where golfers outnumber normal human beings three-to-one, and hundreds of infernal 9 and 18 hole courses blot the landscape.

After all, we invented the accursed sport. A major tournament here is treated like the descent of Zeus and the celestial cohort from Mount Olympus, rather than a verminous infestation of tweedy dorks.

I remember the exact moment I was alerted to the full horror of golf. It was during whichever Ryder Cup it was that the American team decided to show up in full desert camo gear because the USAF had just blasted the fuck out of some tinpot third world country or other, and proceeded to "Hoo-ah!" their way around the course like the short, sharp shower of arseholes they were.

So, hermanos, let us take up arms and declare justified war upon golf and golfers. There is no need for murder, assuming they agree to come quietly.

Victimisation on grounds of religion, ethnicity or wealth is a dreadful crime against humanity.

But I say to you, extremism in pursuit of men who believe that pink jumpers and tartan trousers are acceptable attire is no vice.

Fore!

Memo to Davis Love III - you're not a stormtrooper,
you bat balls around grass for a living.

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