Airbag Industries

Freed.

Yesterday morning Jason announced that he has broken the shackles of menial labor and refuses to work for the man anymore. And even though he gave a pretty good brief on what and why he’s doing this I felt there were some unanswered questions.

I spoke with Jason yesterday afternoon to to ask the hard questions I knew the editors of Wired would never allow.

Airbag: Jason, this morning you announced that you’re going pro…did you make a deal with the devil to pull this off? Does she really have cloven feet?

Kottke: Turns out the devil needs PageRank. Who knew? We’ve got a sweet little arrangement going, a souls-for-placement deal.

Airbag: I think the first question that America wants answered — do you work in your underwear? If not, why not?

Kottke: I don’t because it’s freezing in here. Luckily I won’t be working out of the apartment for much longer (Airbag scoop! Must credit Airbag!!!)…hopefully the new location will be a bit warmer, albeit filled with people that probably would not enjoy seeing me in my underpants day-to-day.

Airbag: What is your day to day routine now that you’re a professional blogger? Are you allowed to leave the house?

Kottke: I hope to leave someday soon. I was at Costco last week and can survive for several weeks here on all the hot dogs and lemonade mix I bought.

Airbag: About the webcam, will it ever pan down?

Kottke: So you can see the keyboard? It’s one of those white Apple ones, nothing special.

Airbag: Looking at your webcam shot I’ve noticed you have a lot of whitespace going on. Any thought of going NASCAR with the decor there? I know some people at Clear Channel Outdoor who could squeeze a billboard or two behind you… yes, no?

Kottke: You’re the second person to suggest selling advertising on the wall behind me. “Going NASCAR”…I like that.

Airbag: Do you ever see yourself buying a white suit and becoming the Architect? Because I’m assuming you don’t have a khaki pants dress code anymore.

Kottke: If I can be serious for a second, the no more khakis thing is fantastic. And I don’t quite know where you’re going with the Matrix/Architect thing, so I’m going to ignore it.

Airbag: Are you now the sworn enemy of Nick Denton? If not, why not?

Kottke: I am going to [explicative] bury Gawker Media. (Except for the logo.)

Airbag: There are bound to be Kottke readers/bloggers who are crafting letters of resignation right now. What would you say to those who see your move as an epiphany of their own?

Kottke: Just quit. Quit right now. Don’t look back. Wouldn’t it be great to see what would happen to the US if everyone quit their jobs all at the same time? I bet it would be great.

Airbag: How does it feel knowing you can never go back to being an amateur, that now you can’t participate in Olympic competition?

Kottke: I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my money counter.

Airbag: How do you plan on explaining this to your accountant? Are you now able to write off things like web surfing? How much are you wrists insured for?

Kottke: I get to write off everything that goes on the site. MetroCards, cab fare, restaurants, clothing, toilet paper, food, travel, hookers, booze, gambling debts, etc. I’m going to write about everything I buy and I’m going to buy things just so I can write about them and get the deductions.

Airbag: Getting paid to blog is like getting paid to ride the buss. Agree or disagree?

Kottke: I don’t think Jerry Buss has too much to do with it. The real question for the Lakers is, can Kobe get them into the playoffs this year?

Airbag: Does it bother you to know that Jason Santa Maria has an entire wall devoted to print outs of kottke.org dating back to 1999?

Kottke: Seriously? (No, seriously?)

Airbag: Ok, time to really come clean. In the last year how many times would you say you’ve ripped off links from Airbag?

Kottke: Between the ones you took from me and the ones I took from you, I think we’re doing OK.

Thanks Jason. I still think you should get a white suit and blog in front of a wall of monitors.

On behalf of Airbag readers (and asshats) everywhere we salute you and your endeavor.