Moomf and Zarathustra

Please excuse this paragraph's misaligned justification. The solution has so far eluded me)

 After speaking on the phone with my Moomf last night, I was left with the impression that she may give my blog another try, but I doubt she will.   I am not sure what her first impression exactly was, but I suppose it drove her away with it's obliqueness.  I would need to write often about home improvement and occasionally about Bill O'Reilly if I were to retain someone in her demographic.  My entries here may be looping and fragmented, unsubstantiated and speculative, and horribly dilettantish, but the hope is that they become something as a whole that is larger than the sum of its parts - synergy.  I am so happy to have this outlet to send thoughts beyond myself, and if I were born in 13,000 B.C.E., I would be recording thoughts of the day with lines in the dirt.

    Above is a label I created in ohhhhhh...maybe 2000?  It features Moomphy's likeness, as she prepares a batch of her special spaghetti sauce.   I printed these and glued them on empty jars so she could sell it by the bottle, or give it away as gifts.  Its a good thing she never used then because I know now, that inkjet ink is not waterproof.   Its called "Lynne's Oh Jesus Christ God Dammit Spaghetti Sauce", for three reasons.  First, this is her most frequently used quote.  She can be heard saying this while driving, in the grocery store, and sometimes in her sleep.  Reason number two:  I think the idea of unreasonably long titles to be hilarious.  Thirdly, we had not started calling her Moomfy.  

    (Moomfy, if you are reading this, skip the entry called Superman vs. Ubermensch.  Its a transcription of a paper I wrote drawing connections between Nietzsche and the rise of the comic book industry.  It will bore you.  I think I said something about Bill O'Reilly in March.  Talk to you on Sunday!)   

    What Moomfy will not know at first, is that I have a small, but incredibly loyal following in Australia.  They are a silent minority, but I know about them through the Blogger stats.  Also, every once and a while, I get a thoughtful correspondence.  Just the other day, I got a message Adam, in Melborne,  asking why I randomly posted a research paper comparing Friedrich Nietzsche's Ubermensch, a theoretical perfect being, to 1930's Golden Age of Comics legend, Superman.  Well, Adam, I wrote the paper for a History of Comic Book class, and was glad to finally make time to do this research, as an interest in the topic had been simmering for years.  

     Turns out, Nietzsche is much, much, much, more interesting than the story of Superman's rise in popularity in the 1930s which is a story of disenfranchisement and commercialism....and Cleveland is just so...unbiblical.  Ubermensch is invoked by Zarathustra, an imaginary prophet who happens to share the name of the the Persian Zorastrian prophet.  Though named, Ubermensch does not yet exist, and therefore cannot be defined as a character.  Superman is known in the Western world as a character who is vaguely human, but moreover an idealized figure designed to be desirable to all seven sexes. Human susceptibility  to trends like pulp magazines in the 30's or  Cabbage Patch Kids in the 80's  (a more egregious example) are the very thing that Nietzsche stood against. Nietzsche saw followers of religion as cattle, but he was not anti-semetic; he respected the Jews. 

   Nietzsche did not always deny God's existence.  In fact, the grief he felt when God ceased to exist for him fueled his conception of Zarathustra.   Nietzsche labored through life full of unpopular opinions and poor health, but his fiery passion for perfection created a richness in his message.