On my European grad trip, I wanted to sit in a double decker red bus, hike around the Alps, eat gelato for dinner and find Nietzsche. (From Switzerland to Italy to France. No need to reread all the works. Just flip through this book.) Despite all my efforts marching up and down, I could not find him. At all.
After a while, I stopped looking.
Is there a Lost and Found for Golden Gate Park? I did not ask that question.
P.S. I wrote this post after reading an article on the plane: The age of reason
- Travel was a problematic undertaking for me. Once, on a windy day in St. Petersburg, I followed a discarded plastic bag for about three miles, convinced it had something to tell the world about the illusion of free will.
- Ask me about the places I have visited over the last decade, and I will provide you with a thorough inventory; ask me what I felt while I was there, and I’ll probably have to make something up.
P.P.S. Being a philosopher is not easy.
NYTimes on American Nietzche: In 1924, Nietzsche’s reputation was further damaged when Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, the teenage sons of wealthy Chicago families, committed a random murder with the apparent intention of establishing their bona fides as overmen. (As Ratner-Rosenhagen shows, the case nearly confounded the great defense lawyer Clarence Darrow, who sought to blame the author of “Beyond Good and Evil” for the crime, but not too much; in his 12-hour speech to the judge, he called Nietzsche “the most original philosopher of the last century” and took pains to argue that “Nathan Leopold is not the only boy who has read Nietzsche. He may be the only one who was influenced in the way that he was influenced.”)