Seattlest Interview: John Hodgman, Writer
Seattlest saw John Hodgman give one of his unusual, deadpan readings from his first book, The Areas of My Expertise. Given our solely platonic love of ferrets and hobos, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak briefly with Mr. Hodgman.
During your reading at the Elliot Bay Book Company, you mentioned that the cohabitation of cats and skunks is a clear harbinger of Armageddon. Apparently you have photographic proof, and can see into the future. However, we have found no mention of this purported cat/skunk cohabitation omen anywhere in Nostradamus’ work. What might you say about that?
Well, as I alluded to in my book…
We haven’t read your book.
Oh, I see.
That would be tantamount to “research”. Like you, we stay as far away from that as possible.
Fair enough. As far as Nostradamus goes, he is a dirty lying scoundrel and I wouldn’t trust a word he says. The last time we had coffee together he accused me of regarding his work with nothing short of schaudenfraude. I tried yet again to convey to him my unwavering conviction that someday the Earth would be ruled by gigantic chihuahuas that are the size of regular dogs, rendering all his predictions moot. This only incensed him further, and he threw his asparagus bisque in my face. I challenged him to a duel but his pegleg tripped him up and he careened into the gutter. I took pity on him, and left him to the anteaters. Plus, he still owes me money.
We liked your own personal Hobo name that you gave in your answer to one audience member’s question. Given your obvious propensity for walkie-talkies, would you care to share your CB handle with us? Over.
I actually have an authentic CB radio handle, "Please Don't Make Me Look At the Pudding Again", given to me by a large Norwegian man who drove 3-car rigs with me back in 1954, transporting live lemming colonies across the Sierre Leone. I’ll never forget Svendslan. Over.
You claim to be an expert on many things. Are you an expert in matters Obtostinalogical?
Yes, as a matter of fact I am. [Takes a drink of tea.]
We just made that up. Obtostinalogical.
I know. Please, continue.
Are you wearing the same tie tonight that you were wearing the night prior on the John Stewart Show? We mention this because it is such a smart shade of orange, and we even noticed that last night on the show.
Yes, it is the same tie. I don’t actually own very many ties, much less nice ones like this. I’m always concerned that they’ll get caught in the industrial meat-processing facility at my mansion in the Hamptons, and I’d end up being eaten by small children for lunch, enjoying their cheese-filled hot dogs. However, I’m primarily fond of this one because it is spun by a very rare form of silkworm found only in Arizona.
Arizona? There are silkworms in Arizona?
Yes, again, they are very rare. These silkworms are capable of spinning only a shocking persimmon-colored silk. It is that color because they were imported by Russians from Kamchatka who settled in a remote area of the west in 1976 (now called Arizona) that is populated by a small subset of Native Americans who subsist on a diet consisting solely of Cheese-Its. It gets into the soil, you see.
Speaking of soil, we’d like to create an intricate topiary montage in the backyard. Do you have any pointers?
Topiary is simply the art of designing and training living plants into ornamental or decorative shapes. One often thinks of topiary design as relating to English manor or French chateau gardens, but some believe the art of topiary dates back to the hanging gardens of ancient Egypt.
Heh, hanging Egyptian topiary. That’s a good one.
No, actually, that is really true.
We were heartened to hear that your answer to one individual’s question about McSweeney’s, the Guardian, and Dave Eggers et al. You responded that not only do you believe it to be a valid new literary movement in the making, but one that has been already made.
Yes, I feel that there is really something…
Can you get us Dave Egger’s autograph?
Um, well, in theory: yes. But there’s one catch. Dave Eggers is actually a robot. He may write witty, wry, unexpected prose but he can’t sign a thing due to the special implants we put in his artificial brain to keep him from hunting down and killing anyone wearing a seersucker suit. That is a strange side-effect of his particular model, model FH-1799a, that we haven’t yet unraveled. However, I’ve been dabbling in neuronal network models of artificial intelligence during my sabbatical at the Nagano Snowmonkey Research Institute, and I think I’ve cracked a way to get him to sign. His agent will be overjoyed. I’ll send something along next week, as long as you don’t mind it coming on bright green parchment paper made by small Shaolin monks enslaved by our secretary –- that’s all we have available around the office right now.
Ed Note: It turns out none of this interview is true. We made the whole thing up. We were inspired by Mr. Hodgman, except of course we're not even on the same planet of funny that he inhabits. Or orbits. It seemed much easier to fabricate the whole interview while comfortably in our bed drinking a 24-ounce can of Miller High Life, The Champagne of Beers, than to conduct an actual interview. That picture of him isn't even ours, it is from the web site Transom. And yes, Jonathan Coulton did do a stripped-down, alt-country acoustic version of "Baby Got Back" that brought down the house, including people far too old to find it funny in the first place, bless them.
