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
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"[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"
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"Free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. "
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"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."
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