ASHTON: Okay, so what do we do with the corpse?
CUTHBERT: We could just leave him there. The end is nigh, after all.
ASHTON: But he’s in the way. We’ll trip over him.
CUTHBERT: I’ll just put him in the closet.
Alan Ryker, When Cthulhu Met Atlach-Nacha
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)
- “green of the honeyed muse, green of the rough caress of ritual, green undaunted by reason or delirium, green of jealous joy, green of the secret holy violence of the thyrsos, green of the sacred iridescence of the dance”
- “Every week we sat at the same table, ate the same thing, and drank the same coffee. It was the one small consistency in our life together and we cherished it more than we admitted, even to ourselves. Arguing was also a part of the tradition.”
- “It was, first, the equalization of fortunes, by means of an income tax and succession duties, both heavily progressive, as also by a direct confiscation of the land in order to sub-divide it, and by heavy war taxes levied upon the rich only.”
- The ceremony took place in the tabernacle, upon a wooden stage with a background painted to look like drapery. Strang sat upon a throne made of wood, covered in cloth and stuffed with moss. He held a wooden scepter and wore a bright red robe trimmed with white, perhaps looking a bit like Santa Claus. An entourage of men with various church titles surrounded him, like dukes, earls, and barons at a court.
- “I can no longer believe the nice speculative contradictions of our divine theologians,” he wrote.