Sorry for the mangled literary allusion, but just thinking about a celebrity coupling like this tends to put my brain into what neurologists call “vaporlock.” Moby, he of the eerily boring techno music with the vapidly earnest liner notes, is expressing some sort of bizarre, carnal interest in hooking up with Britney Spears:

She’s like this [U.S. playwright] Tennessee Williams tragic figure. The fatter she gets, the weirder she gets, the more I love her. I found her moderately appealing in the late ’90s, but now I would marry her in a heartbeat.

(Many thanks to the source for making the distinction between Tennessee Williams, the playwright, and Tennessee Williams, the Cuban baseball player.) It would be nice if this were true, because it would reaffirm my belief in a God that designed the universe as my personal CW sitcom, but that’s probably too much to hope for. More likely, this is like one of Michael Stipe’s periodic announcements that he’s gay. It reminds a world that has long since ceased to care that Moby still exists, and it suggests we can expect to see another Moby album sometime in the next few months.