LOVECRAFTIAN PLAY

"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

There is nothing sane about what we do.  We dredge the foul, hideous depths of the human psyche, where demons fear to enter and come up with loathsome, vile and generally nasty things and we call that good.

Cthulhu is the Priest of the Old Ones.  In that he is an old one himself, but actually an inferior.  He is not so much to be called upon as to be identified with, to become one with, to dream eternal dreams of madness and insanity and drive the world to a dance of destruction.

Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, is the messenger of the Old Ones.  He brings the Word of Madness to humanity.

And when we see a disgusting woman with four chins, legs that would do credit to a hippopotamus and a belly hanging over them, followed by a half-dozen ragged, noisy, smelly offspring we can say with all honesty that in truth she has been cursed by Shub-Niggurath, the black goat with a thousand young.

These are the creations that sprang from the mind of H. P. Lovecraft and he would spin in his grave to see what has happened to him, for a plush Cthulhu in beach wear sits in a chair in my living room.  What were things of ancient horror in his eyes to us are just, well, cool. Except for Shub-Niggurath of course.  And let us understand, they did not exist before Lovecraft wrote of them.  They are egregores, thoughtforms writ large.  And as such they can be drawn upon and drawn into us, except for Shub-Niggurath of course.  We do not call upon them as we would call upon deities.  We become them.

And we invoke them by play that leads to madness.  We search in ourselves for that which is unsane and amplify it, letting it fill us to overflowing and then we take that out on the mind of our submissive, leaving her a cringing wreck cowering in a corner.

Our goal is to bring madness to the world, to ever destroy the sleep of men.  Properly done, a Lovecraftian scene will put out such energy as to cause the suicide rate in the city to skyrocket for a time, and random acts of violence and mayhem to occur in such a way as to make all think that humanity has taken leave of its senses.

And as great Cthulhu dreams his dreams, the world will crumble.

And "The time would be easy to know, for then mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and reveling in joy.  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."

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange eons, even death may die."  H. P. Lovecraft