Sorry, Joe, not just yet...
If you don't mind a wimpy and poetic post, this is the first thing your exchange with TE brought to mind, i.e. the line from "Inherit the Wind" that goes roughly like:
"We can have progress, but it must be paid for. There's a man behind a counter who says, 'Yes, you can have the telephone, but you will lose your privacy, and the charm of distance. You can have the airplane, but the birds will lose their mystery, and the clouds will smell like gasoline'."
He might've also said "You can mold the earth into bold and unnatural shapes for the sake of a game, but your senses will be dulled to the subtle differences of every leaf and bit of ground".
Until we stop playing golf outside and on land, it's hard for me to understand why, playing strategies and shot values being equal, one shouldn't strive to have a golf course at least LOOK as natural as possible. (If it actually IS natural, all the better, in my mind at least.)
Yes, we can and should appreciate the works of human hands (and I particularly like what Pavarotti did with his voice, and Goodman did with his clarinet, and Cather did with her novels etc). But in the case of golf course architecture, where we CAN, if we choose, hide the hand of man and have it subsumed into something larger and older and wiser than ourselves, why wouldn't we? (again, all else being equal; which is not usually a problem, as most every architect who ever lived understands shot-testing.)
The play's title comes from some line of scripture that I think goes like this: "A man who troubleth his own house inherits the wind".
Yes, I know - the right answer is that there's no "right answer", and that it's all a matter of taste. And I think you know me well enough to understand how much I appreciate ALL golf courses, and the talent and skill that goes into building ANY golf course. But somehow I can't shake the feeling that, since golf courses use nature as their canvas, we should at least TRY to troubleth that house as little as possible.
Peter