I AM -- round V: THE FLEA

inside Nietzsche's now-dead head

It is late in the evening of January 3, 1898.  There's an unsuspecting horse over at the end of Piazza Carlo Alberto.  We're in Torino, such a pretty place, really, but where that jerk and intruder, Friedrich freaking Nietzsche, has just aggravated another political upheaval.  In some crazed fit (and in his final twitching throes of death he claimed he was defending the horse, which he absurdly believed was getting whipped at the time -- well, I was there, and there was no horse-whipping!), the man, mustache and all, hurled himself against the horse, arms tight around its neck, all the while screaming, "God is dead! God is dead!  It's left to me to defend this poor, innocent--"  But he was cut short.  Idiot.  I just couldn't take it anymore.  I jumped into the fray, sinking my mandibles deep.  Yes, it was me.  I am the flea that ate that jerk Friedrich Nietzsche's brain.

I AM -- round IV: THAT JERK FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE

It's unlikely that I'll be able to keep up with
illustrations for the I AM; these crappy little
doodles are surprisingly demanding.  Any
such contributions you care to make, please
send to my email.

I am that jerk Friedrich Nietzsche, who killed the Almighty Force with a stroke of his pen. 


Gott ist tot.