I Read Moby Dick Cover To Cover, and I Still Have No Idea if He Hooked up With Natalie Portman

Call me Ishmael, because that is, after all, my name: Ishmael Simmons. Ever since 2017, when musician Moby claimed to have dated actor Natalie Portman in 1999, when they were 33 and 18, respectively, my heart has known but one obsessive desire — to know if this claim was legit. 

Portman, of course, immediately denied the claim, saying Moby was simply a creepy, too-old-to-be-there weirdo who acted inappropriately toward her at a very young age. That does, of course, feel way more accurate, but Moby doubled down, saying he had no idea why Natalie would lie about their very real love affair. Why would a famous male musician make up a story about hooking up with an 18-year-old when he was 33? Seems like a real bad look. Then again, that being said, if it was true, why the fuck would you brag about that? Every answer just seemed to raise more questions. 

As a celebrity gossip obsessive and avid fan of milquetoast corporate sell-out electronica, I desperately yearned to know the truth. You can imagine how excited I was to come across “Moby Dick” at the bookstore. I mean, an entire novel exclusively about Moby’s dick. ‘Surely, this will have the answer,’ I thought. Well, here I am, 720 pages later, no closer to the truth. Aside from helping me glean profound insights on the indifference of nature, the limits of human understanding, and the self-destructive folly of seeking vengeance, this book didn’t tell me squat. It doesn’t even talk about the production of 1999’s Play, his landmark album! 

They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and brother, they are right. Even when that cover explicitly states the book will answer your burning questions about celebrity sex gossip, sometimes it’s just a bunch of drivel about boats and obsession and shit. 

I don’t know who the fuck this Herman Melville guy is, but if I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s never even heard the song Porcelian while cruising in his Volkswagen Jetta down a scenic road at night, or even listened to electronic music at all! He damn sure doesn’t know shit about whether Moby is a creep for lying about hooking up with Natalie Portman or if he’s a creep for actually doing it when she was fresh out of High School.

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