there is a great and terrible irony in the fate of lovecraft's works; the horror of the intangible ruined by overexposure. I could not think of a more cruel fate for an author, and in a cruel and unusual way it is fitting
Weak attempts at magic: Invoking a name, trying to provoke a reaction. But only a linguistic slight-of-hand, a palor trick. mimicry of wit. because they are desperate to have fun, to be fun, to be the funny, wierd guy.
-
-
it is sad and frustrating only because it is FITTING. Cthulu is a diety of excess, and his worshippers, in the text and now also his supposedly ironic outside, worship him because they are desperate to feel JOY, at any cost.
Show this thread -
The manics, the gluttons, the low self-control electronic dopamine addicts. the desperate broken men, who smile devouring grins; their mouths agape, revealing their innermost desire: Consume! Fill me! Eat until I Eat again!
Show this thread -
"[At the proper time,] the secret priests would take great Cthulhu from his tomb to revive His subjects and resume his rule of earth [...] Then mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones"
Show this thread -
"Free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. "
Show this thread -
"Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom."
Show this thread
End of conversation
New conversation -
Loading seems to be taking a while.
Twitter may be over capacity or experiencing a momentary hiccup. Try again or visit Twitter Status for more information.