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Recently, in Moby's journal:
"next up: hookers and blow.
just trying to keep things credible here, what with me being a quasi-public figure musician and whatnot. can't just prattle on about scrabble and soy milk and tacos and expect to be deemed credible by the cultural gatekeepers. i've never done cocaine. i fear that if i did it once i would have to do it every day for the rest of my life. and it would make my chest hair grow and it would give me an irresistible desire to date models and hang out in cigar bars. so no blow for mo." And also:
"i'm almost tempted to go onto kazaa and download some of my own music, just to see if the riaa would sue me for having mp3's of my own songs on my hard-drive." I like Moby.
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"The mind of the thoroughly well informed [person] is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value."
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