Blue Monday is the popular name of the Monday of the last full week of January, purportedly the most depressing day of the year. Although the notion is rather dubious, one factor that allegedly contributes to it is the amount of time since people have failed their New Year’s resolutions. This strikes me as plausible enough, as the vaunted resolutions cannot be kept up for more than a few weeks. At any rate, I do not find this particular day depressing at all. Still, I find it peculiar this year among years. As I walk around central Zagreb, I look at people walking past me with surprising affection. The more primitive they look, the greater the affection. The only thought that manages to shape in my mind amounts to a curious justification of the human species: “It ain’t their fault that they are as stupid as they look.” I cannot but think of Jesus, but I do not have a father I can talk to. My father is long dead. Chances are that my affection actually has to do with the last piece I have written today. In my mind, most of the people walking past me in the Croatian capital are as good as dead already.