Post by shawnhartnell on Mar 13, 2015 12:05:50 GMT -6
So what is it, this thing of which we call the Cult of Cthulhu? How closely does it resemble the fictional one? Are we a cabal of mad wizards? Do we really have that exclusive annual world record setting fetishistic orgy, ritual human sacrifice, and cannibalistic barbeque EXTRAVAGANzA!!! that everyone seems to have just missed their chance to make a reservation for? (Alas! Fully booked again this year, better luck next year. Longpigs get priority.) And what's with all the --- GREEN?
In essense, the Cult is a group of enthusiasts for living consciously and being self-aware as possible in a bizarrely mystifying world of which we understand very little if anything at all. Cultists are like self-aware versions of Lovecraft's characters. We know that we don't know and if while stumbling around this mysterious universe we were to be stared down by Cthulhu [1] him/her/itself our sanity would remain intact. (Though we may still shit out pants, but I digress!)
It's already broken enough that we already know that the universe is stranger than we could possibly imagine it to be. We understand that there are things afoot in the universe beyond our comphrension and we really get a kick out the joy of being hopelessly LOST.
Sometimes it's entertainingly absurd, and even so, not being able to be sure of anything has very fun and practical applications. Whatever you think your problems are, no matter how difficult or impossible they seem to be, you're probably wrong. For this reason alone, Cultistists routinely do the impossible.
We take whatever's useful, mix it up and experiment with the unknown. We learn what's possible by taking chances and playing with the unknown.
[1] If faced with a real Cthulhu we could only uselessly hope that we didn't look especially tasty or squishy. This would be useless because we rarely make efforts to reduce our tastyness or the satisfaction of our crunchiness, we don't have a clue how to achieve this, and it doesn't matter due to the fact that dread Cthulhu would have his/er/its own ineffable reasons to scarf us down or pop us like bubble wrap.
In essense, the Cult is a group of enthusiasts for living consciously and being self-aware as possible in a bizarrely mystifying world of which we understand very little if anything at all. Cultists are like self-aware versions of Lovecraft's characters. We know that we don't know and if while stumbling around this mysterious universe we were to be stared down by Cthulhu [1] him/her/itself our sanity would remain intact. (Though we may still shit out pants, but I digress!)
It's already broken enough that we already know that the universe is stranger than we could possibly imagine it to be. We understand that there are things afoot in the universe beyond our comphrension and we really get a kick out the joy of being hopelessly LOST.
Sometimes it's entertainingly absurd, and even so, not being able to be sure of anything has very fun and practical applications. Whatever you think your problems are, no matter how difficult or impossible they seem to be, you're probably wrong. For this reason alone, Cultistists routinely do the impossible.
We take whatever's useful, mix it up and experiment with the unknown. We learn what's possible by taking chances and playing with the unknown.
[1] If faced with a real Cthulhu we could only uselessly hope that we didn't look especially tasty or squishy. This would be useless because we rarely make efforts to reduce our tastyness or the satisfaction of our crunchiness, we don't have a clue how to achieve this, and it doesn't matter due to the fact that dread Cthulhu would have his/er/its own ineffable reasons to scarf us down or pop us like bubble wrap.