85 Years of Cthulhu
It was 85 years ago today.
Lovecraft taught us how to pray.
May I introduce to you
The God you remember after all these years.
Cthulhu’s soul eating band!
It was eighty-five years ago this month that a different kind of messiah was born. Yes, there’s been a lot of talk about “alternative” religions these days; from the likes of Scientology, Wicca, and the Cult of Celebrity. But the God I speak of is far more ancient and enduring than either of these faiths. I speak of the one true God who will unite us all in the presence of his body. I speak of he who can destroy worlds. I speak of he who shall rise again. I speak of he who makes an awesome chocolate mousse with lemon swirls. Alright, maybe I exaggerated that last part.
I speak of none other than…
Do I have enough modifiers?
His fictional exploits were first chronicled in Weird Tales February 1928. The publication of The Call of Cthulhu marks the debut of one of horror's biggest monsters...literally. The great prophet H.P. Lovecraft was the first scribe to spread his vile gospel. Yes, Abdul Al Hazred, author of the Necronomicon came first. But it was the dark dreams of Lovecraft that raised our God to the public consciousness, up from the seas of nightmares!
In the words of that most anti-divine prophet, “He is combination of a dragon, and octopus, and a human caricature…A pulpy head, with a mass of feelers at his mouth.”
And it was this nightmarish image that has haunted the dreams of men since then. Our mighty Lord from the depths has permeated all levels of culture. Books, games, toys, t-shirts, tattoos, and even slash fiction. He is more popular than Zarquon!
My first introduction to this awesome octopod god came via The Real Ghostbusters. In their aptly titled episode, The Collect Call of Cthulhu, the boys in ectoplasm do battle with his most unholiness. They vanquish him, but only for a time. For when the stars are right, he shall rise again!
[Editor’s note: It was at this point that the blogger began laughing hysterically. He tore all his clothes off, and then proceeded to dance wildly. He then gave offerings of spiced rum to a statue of Cthulhu, which was situated on a makeshift altar. He then proceeded to invite many young ladies at the office to become Brides of Cthulhu. They all refused, except for that smashing blonde with the big bazoomnies. Anyway, we had to call an exorcist. The less said about that, the better. Also, we can’t get the smell of that cherry incense out of the carpet. Mind you, it is quite nice, but it is distracting. And just you try getting goat’s blood out of a suit. I mean, really, nothing takes that out of a suit; not even club soda. Seriously, he ruined a Brooks Brothers suit in one afternoon. That’s the last time we allow “Casual Fridays,” I’m telling you.]
Since then, visions of his hideousness have remained with me. I have not forgotten the name Cthulhu. And it would appear that no one ever will.
For as the great prophet once wrote, “That which is not dead can eternal lie. And in strange eons, even death may die.”
I’m off to bake a soul-flavored cake with virgin frosting!
Copyright 2013 Johnny X.