Johnny Newport

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Moth Ankles is my metaphysical alter ego; a fatalistic, devil-may-care man who struggles to exist in a world with no inherent meaning.  Born from an homage to the indomitable Cocaine Biceps aka Galaxy Knuckles aka Ghostface Killah, the original iteration of this self was known as Meth Ankles. As time wore on and my alter self became more self-aware, I was awoken to the depressed realization that I had a severe lack of cowardice. It was with this in mind, coupled with my deep love for the 19th century golden era of Russian literature that I evolved as the enlightened and absurd "Moth Ankles".

Moth Ankles is my metaphysical alter ego; a fatalistic, devil-may-care man who struggles to exist in a world with no inherent meaning. 

Born from an homage to the indomitable Cocaine Biceps aka Galaxy Knuckles aka Ghostface Killah, the original iteration of this self was known as Meth Ankles.

As time wore on and my alter self became more self-aware, I was awoken to the depressed realization that I had a severe lack of cowardice. It was with this in mind, coupled with my deep love for the 19th century golden era of Russian literature that I evolved as the enlightened and absurd "Moth Ankles".

On the philosophy of the moth

In a world with no inherent meaning it is the duty of each individual to divinely inspire from within and create their own meaning for themselves. One must let one live their life to their personally created standard and personally stated meaning.

It is not reasonable to assume that the current status of man (an assumed apex of man’s ability to reason and know)- and the current intelligence that we are able to witness and recognize- is something we should use to discern and “know” this truth as it must be housed in something exponentially more advanced than us.

For us, all we do know is that there is in everyone a hardwired and programmed nudge to engage in certain behaviors; the moth clumsily flutters around the heat of light sources with its compatriots for seemingly no reason (at least to the perception of humans) and despite the ruin to himself and his family, the alcoholic drinks to a point of incarceration or death, whichever comes first.

If to an alcoholic, after an exhaustive inventory of values and worldview within a cost/benefit analysis framework, the meaning created for his life is to live fueled by his passion and his genius (to use the word as the ancient Greeks used it, which is to say his special and innate talent or perhaps something he was born to do?) then who are we to judge?

Just as we would not think twice at the gaggle of moths dancing with each other for the attention of the street lamp, the honest alcoholic of integrity should be allowed to slowly kill himself without shame, indeed with a measure of honor and respect. Why? Because, in summation, the task of any man worth his salt is to create his own values and meanings, based on unique perspectives, desires, and goals, and to embody them with 100% buy-in and integrity, for "good" or for "bad".

Ultimately, it is my opinion and the premise of my book that there is no meaning- at least no meaning we as humans are capable of understanding and appreciating- and the attempt to find a universally understood meaning is ridiculous and futile. The sooner one embraces "the gentle indifference of the world", one can begin to actually live (or die or commit suicide**).

Again in my opinion,

**I disagree that we must imagine Sisyphus happy. It is my position that Sisyphus is inefficient and a coward.

 


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