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
"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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