Is that most people have no idea what (good) editors actually do. And yes, there are good and bad editors—it's like any other profession.

Some random and rambling thoughts:

I'm managing editor of a global business trade magazine. I'm responsible for basically everything that gets printed. I fix terrible writing (by knowledgeable and wonderful writers who are dear friends) to serve readers and make the writers look better than they otherwise would. I select photos, lay out articles, and pay attention to every detail from the cover lines to the ad index. If it came off the press, I approved it. And I'm ultimately responsible if anything isn't right. I traffic all the articles, select photos, direct re-designs, argue with the bean counters over book size and ad-edit ratios, and scheme constantly to create a better product in every dimension. I try to encourage and nurture the best from our graphic designer, and yes, the writers. I placate advertisers and our sales staff. I go to dinner, I glad-hand. It's a lot of fun, and a lot of work. A publication's success or failure rests squarely on the shoulders of its editors.

The idea that editors are out there to keep someone from finding an audience is silly. So, too, by and large, is the idea that editors are frustrated writers. I was a writer who would much rather be an editor. It's a much bigger challenge and responsibility, and therefore, to me, a more rewarding role. Many is the time I've longed momentarily to return to the simple, single focus of writing. Until I remember all the things about magazine and newspaper writing that I don't like.

Magazine/newspaper editors exist because someone has to take all the disparate elements and assemble a cohesive whole.

A single blog is not part of a greater whole. The sad truth is that just because one can publish doesn't mean one should—practically speaking. A blog is akin to a column. Which, if you look at a newspaper or magazine, is just one tiny bit of a much larger publication.

The appeal of blogging is that anyone can just start in. Sure, that's democratic, and I've no problem with it. But I find more value in picking up publications that contain a rich mix of content than in trying to assemble all that content myself, piecemeal.

If you set up a browser page to bring you various content feeds, play with the layout to suit your tastes and priorities, change the colors and whatnot, you're doing some of what an editor does. Now, pretend that it's a business, and that not just your tastes prevail. You have to appeal to enough readers to attract advertisers and bring in the money to pay everyone necessary to create all that content. And you have to manage the creation and presentation of all that content.

Kamiya's point about editors online is that as content volume increases, the need to aggregate increases. Salon is an example of such an aggregation, just like any print publication. Aggregation is supposed to add value. When it doesn't, the publication (digital or print) dies.

I've worked as both a reporter and an editor. And here's a basic fact all good writers accept: Everyone needs an editor. There are some gray areas involving columns, and obviously, some writers are very, very good, making most editing superfluous. But most writers are not very, very good.

If you've ever seen Ezra Pound's editing of an early draft of T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland you'll know that even towering geniuses (if they're not egomaniacs) solicit and welcome input from those they respect.

The trick to being a good editor is having applied oneself to learning all the bits and pieces necessary to command a good writer's respect. Someone likened it to being a DJ. That's apt, as is also comparing a good editor to a good music or film producer.

Anyway, blah, blah, blah. And thanks, Gary.

I should've said that comparing an editor to a good DJ is apt, but more accurate is to compare the editor to a good club owner (who selects the right DJ for the target crowd), film or music producer.

Anyone citing Clarkson as evidence of vitality in rock music obviously has no idea what she's talking about.

I'm not even going to comment on the vapid and superficial generalizations regarding "black music".

Somebody please send some playlists to poor Camille.