GLAD TO MIETZSCHE

Why did the eighth grader start reading Nietzsche? Because he was told not to by his Catholic school English teacher. Funny how some real education can slip in when you least expect it.

I can safely say that I started thinking in eighth grade as a result of three things that happened in a specific order. First, I started reading H.P. Lovecraft. Second, there was a class presentation by a "cool" couple telling us how being practicing Catholics was awesome that backfired, at least for me. Third, I was directed that there were five authors I shouldn't read, and Nietzsche was at the top of the list.

I'll write about each of these events in due course, but I wanted to take a moment to honor Nietzsche on the one year anniversary of my visit to his birthplace in Röcken, Germany. Great name for a town, right? Being there, bearing witness to his humble beginnings, brought home how a great thinking can rise from the humblest of beginnings to change the world. If you can't get there in person, maybe my little blogpost scrapbook might be a modest substitute.

VISITING NIETZSCHE

Take the road to Röcken and you can't miss it.

Just follow the sign after sign after sign.

You'll soon see Nietzsche's gravesite and a sculpture showing his mother and sister standing over the master's grave ...

... while the man himself looks on ...

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Follow the path to the church where his father, a Lutheran minister, presided. Grim indeed. You can almost hear the Last Men speak: "We have invented happiness,’ say the last men, and they blink.

Then onto the small museum and gift shop.

And, no, his plaster death mask is not for sale. You can't even get a replica for your den.