I am particularly well disposed towards columnists. Of all print journalism genres, column writing is more of an art than a science. Good columnists bare their soul, consistently and creatively.
They also expose their personalities to readers. So much so in fact that you feel you have had a cosy chat with them and got to know their quirks, strengths and failings.
An example: I met Fred Khumalo of the Sunday Times once Ã¢Â€Â“ just briefly, over a wee dram. He is true to the persona you perceive after following his columns week after week, month after month. Warm, sociable, clever and passionate, a real South African.
Stephen Mulholland of Finance Week is another case in point. Many journalists have worked with him and know of his short fuse and strong opinions. His columns don’t disappoint however much you may disagree.
I am sure that if I met Tom Eaton (Mail & Guardian), AndrÃƒÂ© le Roux (Sarie), Marianne Thamm (Fairlady) or Stanley Bing (Fortune) I would find the same truth.
Columnists are as you read them to be. And so it is with David Bullard.
What you have been reading over the years shines a light on the very being behind the keyboard. Or as he so truthfully describes himself (in promotional material for a book): “elitist, arrogant and offensive”.
And proud of it.
Ã¢Â–Â !_LT_EMBullard is a former columnist of!_LT_/EM The Media!_LT_EM magazine. Khumalo is a current columnist of the magazine. !_LT_/EMÃ¢Â€Â“ !_LT_EMEditor!_LT_/EM
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