When the founders of this country got all pissed off at the British for taxing their tea or whatever and started killing them for it, there existed in the 13 colonies a patchwork of privately-owned presses, churning out pamphlets, tracts and newspapers. These journalistic enterprises bore little resemblance to the publications we read today. They were ludicrously, often downright criminally sensationalistic, full of bile and vitriol toward whomever the publisher didn’t like — whether they were government officials or that awful neighbor next door. They looked and read more like the untamed elements of the blogosphere of today than anything else.

Despite all this, despite the unprofessionalism and flagrant negligence of the best journalistic practices by these founding publishers, we live in the country they built, one pamphlet at a time. Despite all of their faults — and there were many — these “infamous scribblers,” as George Washington called them, obviously spoke to something real at the core of the human condition or whatever you want to call it. They showed that the truth needs advocates. That beyond just reporting the facts, a newspaper’s role is to give opinions, to persuade, to agitate.

Which is why we’re bringing back, after an overlong hiatus, the opinion page to the Emerald. This is the section of the paper reserved for you, to talk to us and each other, to offer your own views on things and to get real 1770s with it and mouth off if necessary. It’s your patriotic duty to do so.

Before we really get started with this whole thing, allow me to introduce myself. I come to the Emerald after writing and editing for Flux and Ethos magazines; last year, I wrote for the Emerald as an arts and culture columnist. I like to wear bow ties, and I’m generally fond of all sartorial matters (I have theories of style and everything.) I am a rap music enthusiast — I love Kanye West, Organized Konfusion, the Gravediggaz, Gucci Mane, all sorts of trap rap and the Black Hippy collective  — and I find arguments involving putting the word “real” in front of “hip-hop” utterly boring and loathsome. The less said about Odd Future and their abysmal racket, the better. Most of the time, though, I’m listening to podcasts like “This American Life” and “Bullseye.” I enjoy Nicolas Cage on a deeper level than you.

As I draw this column to a close, I’d like to share with you a philosophy of living, one I have borrowed from Gore Vidal and Oscar Wilde: You’ll get a lot farther in life if you’re amusing about serious things and serious about amusing ones. And, to steal from Thoreau, if you’ve built your castles in the air, you’ve done most of your work already — in the air is where your castles belong. Now build your foundations.