Measuring up the tourists limping about Motovun in the heat, I cannot but take solace from the thought that climate change would be a blessing to old Nietzsche.

Addendum (August 19, 2016)

Even though Nietzsche has been with me since the beginning of my writing project, the explosion of pieces bearing his name the last couple of years is surely of interest (“Content Analysis: Nietzsche,” January 13, 2016). Indeed, now he is like a brother to me. Besides, I remember him much more often than I mention him in writing. And it is most often in connection with the abominable tourists that traipse through Motovun. And Zagreb, as well. For me, they are the epitome of this crumbling civilization. At its zenith, it has spawned billions of these ridiculous creatures that buzz around the planet like flies. More often than not, I imagine Nietzsche and I sitting together and laughing our heads off at the sight of miserable throngs in pursuit of yet another tourist attraction. Barely able to walk, their fat bouncing along, sweat dripping from their brows, they gawp every which way as if there is no tomorrow.