Eldtritch Abominations: Could we be in danger?

[Veceria]

Don't worry. I heard we are pretty benevolent. All that danger stuff is just propaganda.

[The Archregimancy]

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Trump Mar'a'lago wgah'nagl fhtagn.

[Farnhamia]

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Trump Mar'a'lago wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Instead of "lies sleeping" shouldn't that be "goes golfing"?

[Neanderthaland]

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Trump Mar'a'lago wgah'nagl fhtagn.

I'a Covfefe!

[The Archregimancy]

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Trump Mar'a'lago wgah'nagl fhtagn.

I'a Covfefe!

Have you ever seen Donald J. Trump and great Cthulhu in the same room together?

I thought not. I rest my case.

And I'm an archaeologist; I would surely know. That's why I always make sure to talk to Esquimaux* wizards and Louisiana swamp-priests about this sort of thing.

Now excuse me while I go and examine some giant blind penguin specimens a colleague of mine found during a recent trip to Antarctica. The colleague, alas, is no longer quite sane, but I'm sure that nothing can go wrong if I follow up on some cryptic clues in his blood-stained notebook.


*paraphrase from Call of Cthulhu; blame Lovecraft for the spelling, not me.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Trump Mar'a'lago wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Instead of "lies sleeping" shouldn't that be "goes golfing"?

'Golf' was invented in Scotland (no doubt under a gibbous moon) via the subliminal influence of a malignant Great Old One who lies slumbering just off the coast of north east Fife. Proof of this comes from the fact that golf is more instrument of torture than sport.

This is why in the ancient and near-indecipherable language of the Great Race of Yith, 'lies sleeping' and 'goes golfing' are analogous metaphors. This much was revealed to me when I consulted the Pnakotic Manuscripts while transported to Pnakotus, the lost city of the archives, when my body was briefly taken over by one of the Great Race (they tend to favour archaeologists for what should be obvious reasons). Alas, only brief fragments of this time remain to me, returning to me in dreams that seem to summon themselves despite my terror of their true meaning; but the details of the golf/sleep metaphor have lodged themselves in my memory.

How I wish I could forget.

In any case, the attraction of golf to Trump-Cthulhu should be clear.

[The Blaatschapen]

I'a Covfefe!

Have you ever seen Donald J. Trump and great Cthulhu in the same room together?

I thought not. I rest my case.

And I'm an archaeologist; I would surely know. That's why I always make sure to talk to Esquimaux* wizards and Louisiana swamp-priests about this sort of thing.

Now excuse me while I go and examine some giant blind penguin specimens a colleague of mine found during a recent trip to Antarctica. The colleague, alas, is no longer quite sane, but I'm sure that nothing can go wrong if I follow up on some cryptic clues in his blood-stained notebook.


*paraphrase from Call of Cthulhu; blame Lovecraft for the spelling, not me.

Instead of "lies sleeping" shouldn't that be "goes golfing"?

'Golf' was invented in Scotland (no doubt under a gibbous moon) via the subliminal influence of a malignant Great Old One who lies slumbering just off the coast of north east Fife. Proof of this comes from the fact that golf is more instrument of torture than sport.

This is why in the ancient and near-indecipherable language of the Great Race of Yith, 'lies sleeping' and 'goes golfing' are analogous metaphors. This much was revealed to me when I consulted the Pnakotic Manuscripts while transported to Pnakotus, the lost city of the archives, when my body was briefly taken over by one of the Great Race (they tend to favour archaeologists for what should be obvious reasons). Alas, only brief fragments of this time remain to me, returning to me in dreams that seem to summon themselves despite my terror of their true meaning; but the details of the golf/sleep metaphor have lodged themselves in my memory.

How I wish I could forget.

In any case, the attraction of golf to Trump-Cthulhu should be clear.

Golf is a weak British copy of the Dutch kolven.

[The Archregimancy]

Have you ever seen Donald J. Trump and great Cthulhu in the same room together?

I thought not. I rest my case.

And I'm an archaeologist; I would surely know. That's why I always make sure to talk to Esquimaux* wizards and Louisiana swamp-priests about this sort of thing.

Now excuse me while I go and examine some giant blind penguin specimens a colleague of mine found during a recent trip to Antarctica. The colleague, alas, is no longer quite sane, but I'm sure that nothing can go wrong if I follow up on some cryptic clues in his blood-stained notebook.


*paraphrase from Call of Cthulhu; blame Lovecraft for the spelling, not me.




'Golf' was invented in Scotland (no doubt under a gibbous moon) via the subliminal influence of a malignant Great Old One who lies slumbering just off the coast of north east Fife. Proof of this comes from the fact that golf is more instrument of torture than sport.

This is why in the ancient and near-indecipherable language of the Great Race of Yith, 'lies sleeping' and 'goes golfing' are analogous metaphors. This much was revealed to me when I consulted the Pnakotic Manuscripts while transported to Pnakotus, the lost city of the archives, when my body was briefly taken over by one of the Great Race (they tend to favour archaeologists for what should be obvious reasons). Alas, only brief fragments of this time remain to me, returning to me in dreams that seem to summon themselves despite my terror of their true meaning; but the details of the golf/sleep metaphor have lodged themselves in my memory.

How I wish I could forget.

In any case, the attraction of golf to Trump-Cthulhu should be clear.

Golf is a weak British copy of the Dutch kolven.

Yes, I understand there is a yet another Great Old One warping the minds of the Dutch and Frisians towards the embrace of the unspeakable horrors of club and ball sports.

What its insidious plan might be escapes me, but we humans are little more than insects in their eyes.

Are you absolutely sure you want to keep filling in the Zuiderzee? There are some things neither man nor woman was meant to know....

[The Blaatschapen]

Golf is a weak British copy of the Dutch kolven.

Yes, I understand there is a yet another Great Old One warping the minds of the Dutch and Frisians towards the embrace of the unspeakable horrors of club and ball sports.

What its insidious plan might be escapes me, but we humans are little more than insects in their eyes.

Are you absolutely sure you want to keep filling in the Zuiderzee? There are some things neither man nor woman was meant to know....

We stopped doing that.

Besides, we know that there is a great old one in the North Sea. In the shape of a dog. It's why it's called Doggerland over there *nods*

[Arident]

I highly doubt evoloution could go to such extremes, and even if it did somewhere, it's too far away/has better things to do than worry about us puny humans.

[Sodoran Alesia]

I feel obligated to post this here.

[West Leas Oros 2]

Ň̷̮͖̩̋͋͐̂͂̐̅͒͋o̸̢͕͍̺̘̺̱̰̯̣̱͂̍̏̊́̎̅͘ͅw̸̞̼̳͙͕̣̑́ ̶̛̰̰̰̤̼̰̺͍͇̝̹̱̀̈́͌̈̈́̀͘͜͠͝ͅi̴̢̛̠̻̙̻̓͒̄͋͘s̶̙̝̖͚̋̇̍́̏̉͌̓̏͒̌͒͐͋̄ ̸͇͉͓͓̣̦̅̈́̉͊̾̔̃̄͊̎͘͘͠ţ̷̧͇̩̮̟̩̗̗̈́̎̀̀́̽͂̌͘̚̚͘͠h̶̬͈̯͎͈̺͎͇͉͓̳̼́͒̚ë̶̗͉͉̪̞̹̰̈́͑́̓͐͘͜ ̵̡̢̛̙͓͈͉̗̞̠͙̖̠́͗̊͋͌͋̐͘͠ͅͅp̵̟̬͍͇͕̮̻͂̈́̊̊͝ę̵̨̜͉͔̱̰̞̤͔̂̌͑̚̕͜ŗ̶̘̜̣̗͉̼̟̂̓͑͂́͒̍͐͗̒͑͆͘f̷̨̛̜͙̟͙̟̖̭̭̼͕̥̳͒̇̌̆̓͌̆̉̽̈̚͠͝ȩ̵̊̊̇̎̈́̋̓̒͊͑̂̃̚͝͝c̵̨̖͓̬̠̰̫̠̫͈̝̟̅̈͐͋́̔̆̽̍̈́̍͗̚͝͝ͅţ̴̪͕̺̤̳̟̯͉͍̞͓̆̔̎͆͋͒̈́̓͂̏͗͘̚ ̷͈̤̯̲̺̒̿̀́̆͆t̴̬̓̒̆͒̀̚̚ỉ̴̧͍̘̣̭͉̼̱̤̲̗̬̯͎̂̎̊̽̆̓̿̆́̉͛̒̚͘͜m̶̡͎̟̙͍͎͚̬͎̎͋̄̉͒͆͒̊͌̾̈́͜͝ͅe̷̡̢̠̜̣̟̳͓̰̣̗̙̣̤̿̾̆̌̾̕ͅ ̸̨̛̰̦̮͍̩̍͌̽̋̓͌͊̀͜͠ͅf̸̡̛͔͖̣́͆̃͊͑̂̃̀͒͆̿̋̕̚ö̴̡̹́̉̉͒̔̽r̷̥̪̻͙͇̼̓ͅ ̶̡̨͙̥̱̜̫̜̰͓͓͖̭͇͔͒̒̓̆̂̏̓̚Z̵̬̥̆a̷̡͈̫͇̪͔̾͋͌͑̉́̎͆͝ļ̴̗̰̤̱̯͖͕́̌̅̀̒̑̕ǵ̵̡̧̧̡̰̫̩̲͓̣͓̲̐̍̄͒̆̚͠ͅơ̶̪̹̞͕̳̻̫̣͒́̆̒͋̽̓̀̋̄ ̷͓̤̼̝̀ṯ̵͔̭͇̼̮̙̫̯̼̘͕̤̻͑͋̊̈́̈̐̂͗͗ë̴̼͌͗̐̾̒͑̾͆͘͝x̶̢̢̺̝̺̣̉̾̅̊ţ̷̛̝̬̤̣̲̖͔͖̫̈́̆̆̓̑̈́̒̐͌̐͋̿̚