Man is a rope, tied between beast and overman
—a rope over an abyss.
   A dangerous across,
      a dangerous on-the-way,
         a dangerous looking-back,
            a dangerous shuddering and stopping.

What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not an end:
what can be loved in man is that he is an
overture and a going under.

I love those who do not know how to live,
except by going under,
for they are those who cross over.

I love the great despisers
because they are the great reverers and arrows of longing for the other shore.
I love those who do not first seek behind the stars for a reason to go under and be a sacrifice,
but who sacrifice themselves for the earth,
that the earth may someday become the overman’s.

Thus Spake Zarathustra, by Nietzsche, trans. by Walter Kaufmann, Prologue aphorism 4

What is worth living for, dying for? The question is singular. As fact, each day of life also is another day spent along the arc of one’s existence here on earth.  Another day, one day less.  So what’s it for? There’s no inevitability of purpose, since in an “advanced” society it seems that most live without any direction in particular.  Floating along the “lazy river” round and round, most are happy to be ensconced within our capitalist water park…

Still some of us can’t help ourselves but keep asking, “To what purpose, what affirmatively does my life amount to?” Is this obsession within our genes, or a fascination contracted by familial conditioning? Not a game for amusement this. Rather is a question that demands a stake. Something to be proved, by a single life, however much time turns out to be at one’s disposal.

What tune shall we bind our hearts with today?  This one by ZZ Top, will serve as compass for today’s journey. Sharp Dressed Man!  (No doubt my wife would endorse this thought.)