When I sat down to write my first column of the year I found myself at an impasse. See, I never actually had a “final” column for this past school year due to the tornado. Chronologically, my last column from last year was a cannonball directed at UA TOMS; I enjoyed writing it tremendously as well as the comments and response(s) that followed. That being said, I was hoping for a last go around that would allow me to neatly wrap up my first year as a columnist.

The first piece I wrote as a staff columnist for The Crimson White was entitled “Guide to Opinions Page Fame,” and it was, at its essence, a release for two years of pent up frustration with the general riff raff that one finds wandering about the campus. It was a guide, to be sure, but it offered no real constructive advice.

After a year of service, I’ve gained a greater understanding for the monster that is The Crimson White’s opinions page and what to expect over the next two semesters from both my fellow columnists and the readers who chime in with letters and guest columns. And while “Guide to Opinions Page Fame” was massively entertaining to write, I feel it is almost required to write a legitimate advice column lest we see the battle between theists and atheists play out on page four again.

By now you’ve heard from various administrators and student leaders on campus or at least their communication directors (Hi, Seth!) as well as a couple of The CW’s regular contributors. If I were to use a relationship as a metaphor, this is the honeymoon stage. The crazy hasn’t come out quite yet, but believe me; it’s on its way.

There are a few basic truths every reader needs to know about what appears on the opinions page, the first being that literally no one is a journalist. The biggest misconception I see in reader comments is that we, as columnists, are somehow bound by this abstract concept called credibility.

The fact of the matter is that the opinions page is the exact place for rampant speculation and grossly over-exaggerated rumors.

You may be asking yourself, “What exactly is the point of publishing pieces that have no real value?” Well, here’s the deal: page four starts each production day as a blank page. The overriding goal is to create and/or maintain some sort of dialogue about any issue that the readership feels is important enough to talk about. The best way to generate this dialogue, believe it or not, is to publish the most absolute extremes of any one viewpoint.

It’s the same reason Rush Limbaugh and Skip Bayless are so successful – nobody reacts to a wet noodle argument that follows the pattern, “I think X is correct, but I can see why someone might think Y.” I know it seems counter-intuitive for anyone trying to foster constructive conversation to give a platform for nut jobs to spew their nonsense, believe me I do, but an extremist is the perfect way to get both the other side riled up and have more sane voices speak up to disown insane ones.

So yes, at some point I will write something that is probably going to make many of you upset – frankly, I might do it just for the hell of it. You know why?

There’s nothing less constructive than “0 comments” next to the title on The CW’s website.

Moving on (because I’ve only got about a hundred words left), there’s a critical piece of knowledge y’all need to know when it comes to writing a letter to the editor.

Writing a letter is like trying to start a successful band: people have done it before, and they sounded just like you. What is it about your point of view that is different than the last guy writing about how much he hates fraternities?

The opinions page is fun, and anyone can play. Last year I had people living in Qatar commenting on a piece I wrote to tell me how much they hate me. Be funny. Be angry. Be sad. Just be something.

John Davis is a senior majoring in NCAA compliance.