You will know that Jason Kottke is a superstar blogger – and I don’t mean he wears a Seventies-style Adidas tracksuit (although he might, and it would be very retro) [click here if you don’t get the classic British TV reference and go bow at the altar of David Vine].
No, he’s been (Kottke, not Vine) writing a personal website (in the blog style) since sometime in 1998, which makes him – in web years – very, very old indeed (although he doesn’t look it in the pictures). If you haven’t read his site, you should because he’s good at this stuff, but now, in a nutshell (and the word nuts may be important), he’s given up a job to spend his days writing great content for his site in the hope that readers pay him (read his reasoning in more detail) for writing it.
Anyway, to cut a ramble short, I just went to read today’s postings (like this one) and have come away feeling like a dirty thief. I haven’t stumped up the cash, so I feel like the kind of person who walks out of WH Smith’s with The Independent under his arm and hasn’t paid (nor dropped a button in the honesty box to look like I am paying). The security guard hasn’t clocked me, but my toes are sweating in fear. Truthfully, I wouldn’t be a good shoplifter, which is why, mother, if you’re reading this, I am not a thief. And yet feel like one.
Damn, damn, damn .. I have to find a credit cards sans dust.