Fearful Cthulhumas!


The stars are not quite right, so he has not risen…yet. Hope is not appropriate, but you may continue your pointless day-to-day activities with a slight diminution of despair, and may resign yourself to the ongoing prolongation of your existence.

I think that means the party is at my place.

Comments

  1. echidna says

    The post is very timely for me: we Just had a despairing afternoon playing Arkham Horror, and restored our spirits by watching the Hogfather. Fearful Cthulhumas!

  2. Ray, rude-ass yankee "I'd have gotten away with it if it wasn't for you meddling kids!" says

    WooHoo! Party at PZ’s! Road Trip!!!

  3. says

    Thanks, PZ, for starting my day with laughter.

    Road conditions are really bad here. I may not be able to make it to my brother’s house, let alone your house. I appreciate the invitation, though.

  4. Akira MacKenzie says

    edhidna @ 1

    I was hoping that one of my relations would have gotten me that copy of “Mansions of Madness” I put on my Amazon wishlist, but no dice.

  5. Gregory Greenwood says

    And now for the traditional Cthulhumas seasonal greeting;

    Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!

    And before any abject travellers from the reaches of Faux News complain that this is some ‘war on Christmas’, I would point out that it is not a war – the Great Old One’s no more war with 2000 year old zombie carpenters then humans war with sponges. The Elder Gods have already won…

    ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

    Note to self – I have never played Arkham Horror or Mansions of Madness. I must rectify this at the earliest opportunity.

  6. Gregory Greenwood says

    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas;
    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas;
    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas and a Squamous New Year.
    Dark tidings we bring to you and your kin;
    Dark tidings for Cthulumas and a Squamous New Year.

    Oh, bring us a Squidy Overlord;
    Oh, bring us a Squidy Overlord;
    Oh, bring us a Squidy Overlord and let us be eaten first;
    We won’t go until He rises;
    We won’t go until He rises;
    We won’t go until He rises, so bring forth his rebirth.

    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas;
    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas;
    We wish you a Fearful Cthluhumas and a Squamous New Year!

  7. Azuma Hazuki says

    In all seriousness, I’d rather deal with Cthulhu than Yahweh any day. Cthulhu doesn’t torture anyone for eternity, and he doesn’t sacrifice his own son, who is also himself, to himself, to stop himself from torturing his own creations for doing what he knew they’d do before he created them.

    You know a religion’s got a problem when motherloving Cthulhu is kind and gentle and civilized by comparison to its head god…

  8. Lofty says

    Just remembered this:

    A Child’s Christmas in Warrnambool

    One Christmas was so like another in those years around the sea town corner now that I can never remember whether it was 106 degrees in 1953 or whether it was 103 degrees in 1956.

    Oh, the Christmases roll into one down the wave-roaring salt-squinting years of yesterboy. My hand goes into the fridge of imperishable memory and out come … salads and sunburn lotions and a brief exuberant hiss of beer being opened and the laugh of wet-haired youths around a Zephyr Six. The smell of insect repellent and eucalyptus and the distant constant slowly listless bang of the fly wire door.

    And resting on a formica altar waiting for ‘ron: the biggest pav in the world, a magic pav, a cut-and-come-again pav for all the children in all the towns across the wide brown bee-humming, trout-fit, sheep-rich, two-horse country.

    And the aunts, always the aunts. In the kitchen, on the black and white photographed beach of the past playing out the rope to a shared childhood caught in the undertow and drifting.

    And some numerous uncles, wondering occasionally why they weren’t each other, coming around the letterbox to an attacking field in a test match and then driven handsomely by some middle order nephew, skipping down the vowel-flattening pitch and putting the ball into the tent flaps on the first bounce of puberty.

    Dylan Thompson

    (Really John Clarke, from The Complete Book of Australian Verse)

    Merry Squidmass.

  9. Akira MacKenzie says

    caseloweraz @ 21

    Yeah, I’ve been suffering with a nasty cold the last couple of days and forgot that Google exists when I posted that.

    (Unless you actually recognized it off the bat without looking it up. If so, Otulengba!)