AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH JIMOTHY

An unfiltered conversation with Seattle's most famous raccoon.

I found Jimothy behind a blackberry bush mid-business and did the only decent thing a gonzo journalist can do: started asking questions.

You know the shape of the story. A raccoon with a spine shorter than the universe intended, lurking in Seattle’s Ballard neighborhood for years, until a July video of him loping across a lawn detonated across the internet. Within a week he had a bobblehead, a mural, a city council proclamation, and a cameo in World of Warcraft. America found a small, strange, blameless creature and built an economy on top of him without asking if he wanted one.

What follows isn’t a puff piece about the internet’s new mascot. It’s a conversation with a creature who is having a very strange month, has strong opinions about Pacific Northwest music, and can’t quite believe he has to explain fascism to a country that already fought a war about it.

He didn’t ask to be famous. But somebody’s got to say the obvious things out loud, and this week, it’s Jimothy’s turn to talk.

ROOK: Jimothy, thanks for agreeing to this interview.

JIMOTHY: I didn’t agree to shit. You found me behind a blackberry bush. Next thing I know, you’re waving a notebook around and apologizing on behalf of humanity.

ROOK: People are fascinated with you and the shape of your spine. Has living with your condition shaped the way you see the world?

JIMOTHY: More than the spine itself, it’s the way people react to it. Humans see something different and immediately decide it’s either inspirational or tragic. My spine’s just shorter than average. I look like somebody accidentally compressed a raccoon into carry-on luggage. Big deal. What it taught me is that everybody carries something. Mine happens to be visible.

ROOK: Fame has to be strange.

JIMOTHY: Strange? I can’t even take a shit without becoming someone’s social media content. I’m halfway through one of nature’s oldest biological functions when somebody whispers, “Honey...there he is,” and suddenly there are six phones pointed at my ass like I’m unveiling the cure for cancer. I’m not. I’m taking a dump. Have some fucking dignity.

ROOK: The paparazzi have become a real problem.

JIMOTHY: They’re everywhere. I scratch my ear. Click. I yawn. Click. I climb a tree. Click, click, click. I’m not escaping from prison. I’m trying to eat a blackberry in peace. Somewhere along the line people forgot that celebrities, accidental or otherwise, are still entitled to a little privacy. Even raccoons like me deserve a moment alone.

ROOK: People genuinely adore you.

JIMOTHY: Which is flattering and deeply confusing. I’ve done absolutely nothing except exist. Meanwhile teachers, nurses, firefighters, journalists, and ordinary people are doing extraordinary things every day and nobody knows their names. I appreciate the affection. I question people's priorities.

ROOK: People are making a fortune off your image.

JIMOTHY: Isn’t capitalism precious? Jimothy mugs. Jimothy hoodies. Jimothy socks. Jimothy plushies. Jimothy stickers. Somewhere there’s probably a fucking Jimothy air freshener. Know what I’ve earned? Half a stale bagel and a bruised apple. Not even the good half of the bagel.

ROOK: Have they offered you royalties?

JIMOTHY: I’m a raccoon. My accountant is a crow with a gambling problem, and my attorney disappeared after accepting payment in peanut M&M’s.

ROOK: Let’s switch gears. Music.

JIMOTHY: Finally. A subject worthy of my time.

ROOK: What are your favorite bands?

JIMOTHY: Mother Love Bone. Mudhoney. Screaming Trees. Green River. Skin Yard. The Wipers. Give me guitars, honesty, and songs that smell faintly of rain and old amplifiers. In the late 80s and early 90s, Seattle wasn’t a genre. It was a community. I wish I could have been alive back then.

ROOK: We’ve heard from folks around town that you’ve become surprisingly political.

JIMOTHY: No. I’ve become surprisingly obvious. Cruelty isn’t complicated. Fascism isn’t complicated. History already ran that experiment. It failed catastrophically. Every authoritarian promises strength, demands obedience, invents enemies, and calls it patriotism. Same scam. Different logo.

ROOK: People have said you don’t exactly have warm feelings toward Trump supporters.

JIMOTHY: I don’t dislike people because of a yard sign. I dislike cheering cruelty. If you get excited watching your neighbors get dehumanized because you think you’re safe, that tells me everything I need to know. Empathy isn’t weakness. It’s the bare fucking minimum for living in a civilization.

ROOK: That’s going to piss some people off.

JIMOTHY: If somebody gets offended because a raccoon thinks authoritarianism sucks, they should probably spend less time yelling at woodland mammals and more time asking themselves why that struck a nerve.

ROOK: Do you have a temper?

JIMOTHY: Damn right I do. I’m a raccoon. I’ve hissed at trees that looked at me funny. But having a temper and letting your temper drive are two different things. I believe in nonviolence because civilization depends on people deciding not to indulge every ugly impulse they have. Self-defense is one thing. Making rage your entire personality is another.

ROOK: Does it bother you that millions of people seem more interested in Jimothy than what’s happening to democracy?

JIMOTHY: That’s the only part of this whole circus that actually breaks my heart. I’m supposed to be comic relief. If people can organize millions of views over a funny-looking mammal, imagine what they could do if they organized around protecting each other. I’m not asking people to stop caring about me. Just care at least as much about your neighbors.

ROOK: What’s your message to people who still identify with the MAGA movement?

JIMOTHY: Read a history book that wasn’t recommended by somebody trying to sell you fear. Meet people outside your bubble. Learn the difference between strength and cruelty. Stop treating empathy like it’s a contagious disease. And if a raccoon is making more sense than your political influencers, maybe it’s time to reevaluate a few of your life choices.

ROOK: Is there anything else you would like to say to the American people?

JIMOTHY: I'm not asking you to agree with me. I'm asking you to remember that every authoritarian government in history depended on ordinary people deciding that somebody else's suffering wasn't their problem. Don't make that mistake. Also, stop filming me while I'm taking a shit.

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Join us as we investigate the powerful, ridicule the absurd, and occasionally discover that the sanest voice in America belongs to a raccoon who never asked to be famous.