Alas, it would seem that there was an error in my calculations yesterday. It turns out that the stars are not right. Or maybe they were right, but only for yesterday. In any case, the terrifying madness brought on by my Cthulhu gnosis has subsided, and I have remembered who I am: an Asatru poet and writer, dedicated bringing the Mead to Midgard in service to Óðinn and Valhöll. Though it was only two days ago, it feels like centuries in a way.
For anyone out there who still hasn’t figured it out, I have only two final words about yesterday’s post:
After much intense study, I have determined that today the stars are right, and that the return of the Great Old Ones is immanent. As for the Ragnarök, I don’t know when that will be, but it doesn’t matter: the Great Old Ones will clearly get here first. All will be destroyed, for we are mere insects compared to these incomprehensible beings, and they regard us no better than the average human regards insects. Thus, I have converted my religion to that of the Cthulhu Cult. In the end, this won’t spare me from their destructive return — it simply means that I’ll get to enjoy some power, prestige, and good times before I too am destroyed at the end of it all. I encourage my former fellow heathens to join me in my conversion instead of attempting a futile resistance. Thus I am using this blog to further the cause of expanding the Cthulhu Cult.
How shall that be done? Though I have converted to the Cthulhu Cult, I still have the skills in poetry and runes that I have acquired, and I feel it best that I use these skills in service of my new masters instead of discarding them. So today I first provide a poetic Call to Cthulhu for those who would honor and serve Him, followed immediately by a rendering of a key phrase in runes that His worshippers may carve as an act of pious devotion which will also add to His power.