The problem with this job is there's usually a steady trickle of people who will tell you they can do it better. Not a few times this semester, I went to bed worrying that they -- perhaps you -- might be right.

It's natural that there will be criticism when you become the nearly-invisible messenger for some of people's most passionate opinions. I tried to bail out once or twice, but I thank those around me for offering the encouragement I needed to see me through to December.

I could tell you that I've become an emotionless opinion-page layout machine, emptied of all blood and biases, but you'd know that doesn't ring true. Instead, I'll let the past 16 weeks of this page mostly speak for themselves. If you hated them, be glad of our semester turnover here at the paper. If you enjoyed them, I'm glad to have been one of the moderators. But remember that the core of this part of the paper is what you, the readers, send in -- and the editor can only work with what he or she receives each day.

I've learned so much, and I hope you have, too. I wish more people could be offered the chance to have this responsibility. Before I pass the torch, some observations:

I've gained more appreciation for Penn State President Graham Spanier. Regardless of how you think he's running the university, he deserves respect: The man gets gobs of often-angry e-mail messages, and responds to them. When new opinion-page editors take over that e-mail address we print in the gray box (letters@psu.edu), they open themselves up to a daily barrage of letters from dozens of strangers. Sometimes this semester, I even got more letters than spam -- if that's at all possible these days.

The Internet has made it that much easier to whip off a heated complaint or angry retort (especially if you're a young alum with some downtime at your first desk job). I doubt this paper has ever received so many opinion letters, but at least they're already typed and ready to zip right into the computer program I stare at each afternoon.

We do get hand-delivered or snail-sent letters from time to time, although they're becoming more of an oddity -- sort of like an old typewriter collecting dust in the corner. But yes, we still read those items and print some of them.

In case it isn't obvious, we just don't have enough available newsprint to run all the letters we receive each day. There might be some newspapers out there that have this option; we rarely do. But that's a good thing. It means that many of you among our readership are engaged and interested -- or otherwise, peeved enough to speak up.

Other things I've noticed:

Men write in much more frequently than women. (Draw your own conclusions.)

Sarcasm and satire run rampant in letters. Most of the time, they work; maybe they even elicit a laugh. But sometimes, people don't get the underlying point. Just as some readers thought Jonathan Swift was actually proposing that the Irish eat their own babies in "A Modest Proposal," some Collegian readers have taken others' plans at face value. ("You mean we're actually supposed to copy Ohio State and start another riot?") A word to the wise: Make sure you can pull off the irony.

Certain topics really get people fired up: the prospect of war, religion, football, hunting, and most recently, the debate over homosexuality. These discussions could go on forever (and some of them have been going on forever), and it seems that only the end of the semester can dampen those fires.

There's a phrase we throw around in First Amendment discussions: "the marketplace of ideas." I like to think that the letters section is a tangible (but albeit imperfect) model for that. There are myriad other "marketplaces" around this campus -- but for better or worse -- people sometimes feel more comfortable arguing in print than in person. Just remember that the former has a fair share of lasting power. The next time you're in the University Archives, ask to have a look at the hardcover collections of old newspapers. All the bile and disagreement (and thank-yous) of blue-and-white ages past are in there, in old letters.

With this in mind, I'm sorry for any stray typos or mistakes I might have introduced or missed in anyone's opinion items this semester. Let's hope future generations give both writer and editor the benefit of the doubt.

Typos aside, clear writing and communication still remains one of the most important skills you should come away from school with, whether your degree will be in English or mathematics or professional golf management. (No, the people behind our GenEds aren't paying me to write this, and yes, sometimes it's OK to finish a clause with a preposition.)

I know it's easy for me to laud this skill because of my background, but you definitely shouldn't leave Penn State without it. Plus, the next time you write a letter to the editor, we won't have to fix much. (To be fair, I guess I could use some help on balancing my checkbook.)

Looking ahead: If you feel like you have an opinion that's been missing from these pages or the media at large, apply to be a columnist in January. Get a writing sample together and type up a separate column that could be printed during the first few weeks of the semester. We're looking especially for writers interested in talking about what's going on here. National and international events are vitally important, but there are lots of local stories to be told and local issues to be debated. That's what we do best. (Since the economic downturn, we've had to lay off our correspondent in Baghdad.)

Oh, and save your letters until the new year. They'll just be languishing in a lonely in-box during the holidays.