I am a contrarian and have been for as long as I can remember. When I sit down to write— especially these editorials— what comes immediately to mind are social critiques, commentaries and criticisms.

There are others I know who write only humor, never a serious thought to burden their minds, every adventure an addled gallivant through the utterly inane, and I envy their work, their guiltless insouciance, their humor. But that’s not me.

For me, the cause of the written word has always gone beyond the realms of mild entertainment, the same of the movies I watch, and it is in this cause, this involvement with the external world, that I have always found words to hold their most relevant power.

Through the years I have had to defend my place as a contrarian, and it’s true I’ve often felt the pangs of sorrow and regret for having been the one to speak when no others saw the point. And to this end, this defense, I have collected a few random scribblings by those who have come before me and who have seen just cause to keep their tongues warm, their words sharp and the pot perpetually turning. I include them here in my own defense.
“It is the writer’s duty to hate injustice, to defy the powerful, and to speak for the voiceless. To be, as Isaiah, and St. Francis, and Rabelais, and Thoreau, and Mark Twain, and Tolstoy, to name but a handful, the severest critics of our own society,” author unknown.

And...
“A shameful terror reigns, the bravest turn cowards, and no one dares say what he thinks for fear of being denounced as a traitor and a bribe-taker. The few newspapers which at first stood out for justice are now crawling in the dust before their readers…” Emile Zola.

So perhaps, at times, like those who chose coddles over critiques, placating over protesting, I too question the validity of vitriol. But, when that happens, as it often does, I think again of all those who have come before me, of those who chose not to move to the back of the bus, or head off to war, or to carry on in social norms they knew to be destructive; those who would not nod at the ignorance of the racist simply because they shared a hue or bow to a the falacy of god out of fear of not believing, but instead spoke out, stood up and leant in against the wall of social ennui, not for conflict but for strength. I think of them, and I too find strength.

At times, its true, we need the humorous, the callous, the clowns to help us forget our worries and to put out of our minds the world outside our laughter. But when the laughter subsides and the clowns go home, the world we inhabit awaits us, and when the worries we suffer and the pains we chose to escape are those by the hands of the other, no troupe of clowns will save us. That’s when we need the contrarian.

So, to all those whom chose comfort over conflict, who protect themselves through silence, I understand your place and respect it, and promise that when the time comes for you to goose step down main street, proud to be hailed by the masses, I will be there on the side of the road to speak-out against the armed guards hired to force your march. Yes, me, your wholly annoying contrarian.

James Askew

"He who joyfully marches in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice." - Albert Einstein