Borak: Standing Up For The Word

We often joke in the KLue office that Brian Yap is responsible for the closure of more restaurants than the Pope is for shotgun marriages. Not that we think the opinions we publish in this mag carry that much weight, but his dissenting voice over the years as a food critic has given the magazine a credibility rarely found. It seems to me that good opinionated writers—be it in politics, food or music reviews—is worryingly absent in some of today's papers and magazines.

I wasn't around when Brian got his first backlash from his first negative review—a well-known Italian restaurant whose food was really so-so—but he must've been shocked by the response. It was two pages long written in a heavily formal style that we learned in high-school, but the content of which certainly wasn't formal or pleasant. Of course, nothing was written about the fact that, hey, maybe the food could do a little tweaking.

I'm bringing this up because I've been hearing some negative feedback about a few columns and reviews that have been bouncing around the office—most notably surrounding Kevin Yeoh's piece on Laundry Bar (a minor gripe, really) and my little diatribe about hannah t's new image (complete with lowercase moniker). This, and a couple of other articles published by this office since, have elicited some reaction, and may I say, thankfully so. Columnists are a failure if they turn out indifferent articles that generate no opinion.

In my short career as a writer, I've always looked forward to hacks like Toby Young, John C Dvorak, and AA Gill as to what and how a columnist should be. They all have razor-sharp wit, but always stick their neck outs for what they believe is right—their opinions bound within the limits of a logical argument, backed up by observation and facts. The result is an often brash, funny, and straight to the point. But that's what having an opinion is all about. I'm sure that you'd rather read a piece from an opinionated writer than a fence-sitter who can't decide.

I've always taken to heart the line tossed out by AA Gill, one of Britain's most opinionated travel journalist and food critic: “No one's opinion is worth any more than yours [...] And just as no one's opinion is worth more than mine, so mine is worth no more than anyone's else. If my articles cause raised blood pressure, then good. That's what first person journalism is all about. We hacks do opposition. But while they may be the start of the argument, they're never the last word. There is no last word. No definitive view.”

This, from a man who wrote Monaco was a place for pot-bellied Eurotrash, that Japanese women are “either silent housework dredges or sex toys,” and “Japan is a country with no sense of individual value, [where] belonging to a job is their only sense of self worth.” Harsh, myopic, and ballsy. Being right is relative to only him—and to him, based on what he observes and deduces, his opinion is one he believes is right.

Also, in writing columns, I'm starting to understand why they're often harsh and cynical. There's a morbid fascination within columnists to be proved wrong. I know this because I want for Hannah T (lowercase be damned, stand up for yourself!) to succeed in her singing career, damn it. I've met her a few times, and she's a nice girl—a rare public persona who wears her heart on her sleeve—but I just don't think she's doing it right. If I'm wrong, then prove it otherwise. Likewise, I'm sure Kevin Yeoh would like Laundry Bar to prove that it’s not just riding on scenester hype, and that the local music scene isn't dominated by one-hit wonders who drop a single before dropping off.

Ultimately, the point I'm trying to make is that columnists shouldn't apologise for having an opinion. When writing out a piece, I'll always remember the words of The Dude in The Big Lebowski: “Well, that's just like, your opinion, man.” Challenge or agree with it. I only pray that you're not indifferent to it.

John Lim is still a young columnist wondering what to oppose next.