Who the fuck are you? Jeremy Johnson; writer, meat-suit pilot, guy.
I have nothing to declare but my genius and … ? In the Jungle You Must Wait. It’s a play I wrote.
Why the fuck should we care? You should fucking care because it’s about you, you stupendous bastard! It’s about you and every person you know. It’s about work and escaping, love and punk rock, poetry and identity. It will CHANGE YOU. I mean, hell, it’s changed me. Like twice.
What the fuck do you care about? Music. I care a lot about a few things, but music is up there. Art that transcends time, emotion, logic. Sometimes … I think humans are secretly evolving from it.
You are about to be castaway with the author or fictional character of your choice. You’re going to be alone with them for a full year. Who would you choose? And why? Chuck Palahniuk so we can just make peace with the situation and spend our remaining years making each other laugh until we vomit.
If In the Jungle You Must Wait was a celebrity, who would it be? It would be party enthusiast and rock artist Andrew W.K. teleported into 18th Century England during a parliament meeting about where to put all of the shit that the peasants are making.
(Possibly not 18th Century England)
I have seen the future of the theatre and its name is …? Martin McDonagh of “The Pillowman”, “In Bruges”, “Seven Psychopaths”, and other theatrical masterpieces.
What is next for you? There’s a sci-fi novel in the works called Vessels, maybe at the end of the year.
Your three closest friends on the internet. Fuck, marry, kill. Go! I’m going to fuck rottentomatoes.com (for the texture), marry consequenceofsound (for always being low maintenance, fresh, and exciting). I’d kill twitter because it would upset a lot of people and be easy to do.
Have you come to terms with your own mortality? Yeah, I’m okay with it. I’m pretty sure I’ve been dead before. Apparently it wasn’t too memorable.
Tell us a secret. This winter, I’m bringing back coon-skin caps.
Say something outrageous. When I see pale, pear-shaped women walking around outside in cutoffs, I kind of get it. #Cannibalism.
A little more Jeremy
Jeremy Johnson lives in Omaha, Nebraska by the train tracks. He has a wife and a couple kiddos and drinks whiskey at least once a week. He’s written things; poetry books, plays, novels … a movie, recently. He’s been produced and published kind of all over the place, but most recently in his hometown with the world premiere of his play, In the Jungle You Must Wait.