/hobby/ - Hobby

>>6761
Hahahaha I forgot it already, Yeah there is that phrase
Such are prejudices.
I didn't know but hell, a spanish haloween special from ¿liberal socdem? ¿just socdem? mexican youtubers

>>26145
>but also a massive racist and all-around elitist.
He was only like that under the care of his abusive aunts. When the money from his grandpa's estate dried up the same time the Great Depression hit he became more and more leftist over time with all the social elitist attitudes being channeled into a very Stalinist high culture appreciation. Him subsequently getting a large circle of supportive and loyal friends helped him get over the whole racism. Especially his wife who's an older jewish lady that took him to New York and fixed his mommy issues.
This then later led to him basically got kicked out of his aunts' house after an argument where he was pro FDR. By the end of his life he was pretty ashamed of his edgy right wing phase and only occasionally talk badly about blacks just to appease his inner cirlce of fans.
Long story short his racism is way overblown. Most of his work about the fear of the unknown is more closely tied with capitalist alienation than anything else.
Fun fact he even had a weeb period in which Lovecraft began to admired all things Chinese and Japanese as 'high culture".

>>6750
What were the main literary inspirations of Lovecraft? Being a dumbass I have the idea his type of stories and themes came out of thin air but that must be wrong.

>>26648
He was pretty open about what inspired him. His biggest childhood idols were the gothic horror of Edgar Allan Poe, the long form prose and the fictional pantheon building of lord Dunsany, the unknowable horror from Robert W Chambers.

This was combined with Lovecraft’s xenophobia and his interests in cosmology and Arabic tales from 1001 nights to form the Cthulhu mythos. Interesting enough there were a lot of parallels between Lovecraft and his British counterpart in William Hope Hodson another sci-fi horror author that also use antiquated prose for eldritch horror fiction that Lovecraft even commented on it. Unfortunately Hodson was killed by an artillery shell during WW1 before his talents were recognized.

Underwater (2020) is an attempt at a Lovecraftian monster catastrophe movie, it's unfortunately not that good, but it's better than a lot of capeshit today.

It's kind of funny that one of the cosmic horrors of one of his earlier stories is just Eskimos.

>>35889
>one of the cosmic horrors of one of his earlier stories is just Eskimos.
Hold up, what? Where?!

Huge fucking reactionary bigot that deserves all the hate he gets, but he is a fun read.

i have a collection of all of his stuff
he's pretty good for a pulp writer, very literary in the tradition earlier writers like poe while also playing around with fantasy
definitely had a lot of nonsense racial and reactionary views and a sort of provincial, backwards worldview, but it can kind of be ignored and in a way it even compliments the artistic gloominess of his stories

>>35896
The story is called "Polaris."

>They say there is no land of Lomar, save in my nocturnal imaginings; that in those realms where the Pole Star shines high and red Aldebaran crawls low around the horizon, there has been naught save ice and snow for thousands of years, and never a man save squat yellow creatures, blighted by the cold, whom they call "Esquimaux."

>>35914
Fucking kek

>>35900
This and checked.

https://gaslightchronicles.com/stories
This is my web novel, it's very lovecraftian.

and explicitly leftist.

>>6750
He has a ridiculous head shape

>>35889
>>35897
In another story, the horrifying twist was that the POV character's mother turned out to be… BLACK!!!!

>>36233
Prose here is actually incredible, and there's a table top in the works? Bookmarked. Good luck comrade

>Thread posting is up again
WE ARE SO BACK

I've read a bunch of his works now, and a lot of his stuff seems to be very of his time. For every story about cosmic horror from beyond the pale, there has to be like two that are about shit like the Mole Men or an evil wizard. Not that I don't like them, but its more the way he writes than what he's writing about.

Like if he was writing today and your average shitty creepypasta was something like
>One day my friend gave me a bootleg of Sonic the Hedgehog that he bought on the deepweb and told me to try playing it when no one was around. So I tried playing the game late at night, but the music weird and glitched out and the colors were completely inverted and wrong and then Sonic game on the screen, but his eyes were black and he was crying ultra-realistic blood. So I screamed and turned off the TV, but then I heard and sound behind me and spun around and it was evil Sonic!

Then Lovecraft would write something like
<I am something of the avid antiquarian and it is for this reason that I found myself at a back alley second-hand shop in search of old and obscure artifacts when I happened upon what I first thought to just be a frivolous curiosity from my own halcyon days of youth. It was what appeared to be a bootleg copy of Sonic the Hedgehog for the Sega Genesis, a childhood favorite of mine. Still, the thing still held some antiquarian interest. Instead of the rounded square of cheap plastic cheap plastic typical of pirated bootlegs of the era, it had a strangely undulating form, and it was comprised of a material completely foreign to me. Even as I held the odd cartridge in my hand, it gave the impression of a sort of permanence and age, as if the thing were not only impossibly older than even the console it had been made for, but was ancient beyond even the dawn of mankind.

<I shook this impression from me and brought the old cartridge home with me, where it promptly found its way into my old Sega Genesis with hopes of re-living some of my early days of innocence and perhaps the chance to find a glitch or anomaly typical to the bootlegs of the time. What my screen showed, however, was something altogether unfamiliar. At first, the screen filled with strange hieroglyphs of no civilization I have ever come across. Then the screen opened into scenes of indescribable, foetid landscapes, vistas of great, cyclopean structures erected in impossible geometries, and terrible abysses where blasphemous things writhed in the Stygian black. The screen then settled on what at first seemed to be the comforting figure of Sonic the Hedghog, but with deepening horror I realized that the thing was twisted and tortured, its squalid form rendered in bizarre proportions, and it seemed to be exsanguinating and excreting foetid fluids from every imaginable pore. It was upon observing the wretched thing in all its grotesque detail that it finally occurred to me that the images before me could not possibly have been rendered by some decades old children's toy, and it is with this that I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that my nerves got the better of me and I fainted. When I was aroused once more, I found that my television was off and the antediluvian cartridge was quite gone. I briefly humored myself that the whole ordeal was just a fitful dream. That's when the mad piping started.

<I don't know how I survived, much less escaped. What followed is now a blur and I can barely stand to recall the few things that my memory still allows me. I know the thing still hunts me. It is never far away. There is a constant baying as if from some wretched animal, always just out of perception, and a presence waiting just behind the wall of sleep. I suspect the thing that hunts me does not intend to kill me, but to carry me off to its blasphemous realm beyond the vast abysses of time and space. I do not intent to allow it to do so. To whoever finds this, know that when you read it I will be dead. I have purchased a machine pistol, and with it I intend to destroy myself. I write this to warn you to destroy, or at least stay away from the items even now being imported into this country from the farthest reaches of the dark orient. My God, did that madman Christian Chandler not claim, in his descent into strange theosophical madness and unspeakable depravity, to have been visited in visions and dreams by such creatures and taken in spirit to their land beyond the stars? Have we not had an epidemic of young men of seeming intelligence and good breeding who, after having purchased various eastern curiosities, locked themselves away in their rooms for weeks, months, even years at a time and when worried friends and family broke in, found their quarters had been filled with bizarre artworks and idols of discordant figures wrought in disturbing proportions, and the young men gibbering about dream worlds and even claiming to have taken dream wives? The thing that I encountered is something beyond description. It is a thing that should not exist. I can feel my rational mind slip even as I attempt to recall it. Yet, indescribable as the thing was in its totality, it had formed its writhing, visceral madness into a figure I was all to familiar with. An image from my childhood. Sonic the Hedgehog.

>>38211
Now I wanna read Lovecraft masterpieces but written like a shitty copypasta.

>>38211
Evil wizards are scary.

>>38211
I wonder if Lovecraft would write stories based on the autism of Chris-chan… your Sega example just made me think of the legendary lolcow.

fantastic author with unfortunate views.

>>21554
>Where they discover a horror in a familiar but totally incongruous form given the setting a creature in the form of a New York subway train.
I wonder if this is where early SCPs got their inspirations from >>5031

>>23130
came here to post this. I'd always known that later in his life Lovecraft became more lefty, but I didn't really think until yesterday to read his letters where he expressed these views. I'd been lead to believe before that he was more of like a New Deal "socialist" and had no idea that in his letters he was probably reading Marxist works. makes me sad to think that he didn't live longer and that he's remembered for essentially having an alt-right incel phase early in life. it would have been so interesting to see what direction his writing might have taken after he'd become politically conscious.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/whyishoudini/erik-houdinis-gaslight-chronicles-grimdark-gothic-horror

>>36233
>>36249

What up, it's been 6 months and I'm trying to get volume I published.

Lovecraft is a heavy inspo ofc, and Frank Baum, with a very Marxist undercurrent to the whole thing. (eldritch city is capitalism manifest)

Just recently read The Dunwich Horror and The Whisperer in Darkness. Damn that shit is entertaining, made me feel like a child in the 1930s reading them in some pulp sci fi magazine. Also the first work of fiction I've read in years, everything else has been history, theory, or legal cases. Felt great to just shut my brain off and go along for the ride, and Whisperer in Darkness' use of correspondence by mail is a great plot device that endows the reader with a feeling of helplessness combined with a weird sense of distance and security which is later revealed to be false. It doesn't matter if you're across the country, the space crabs will find you. It reminds me a lot of the scene in Aliens when they're watching the live feed of the marines enter the compound. Love this mad racist lad.

>>6750
He was a racist but he was so incredibly based. Wish he wasn't a racist, he would have been the writer of all time.

I especially like his misotheistic philosophy. Really makes you feel like humanity is just a toy in the forces of the Universe. We have earthquakes, tornados, tsunami, volcanos, a possible nuclear war, meteor rains, fucking black holes, FUCKING SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLES. And here we are, just a bunch of helpless insects that can do nothing against them. These natural disasters and hazards might as well be considered gods. Unpleasable, jerkass gods who don't even care about our prayers.

>>39017
Hm, yeah, his views changed later in life. Though people tend to dismiss this, saying that he didn't really change.

>>40026
The Cold God feels no mercy to our souls. 😢

>>40026

tl;dr if you've read under the pyramids there's a subtle arg element to this narrative with lost media that no one has figured out yet

>Chaos Gods
>archailects
What did they mean by this?

>>9258
>Also it's amusing that some biblical depictions of angels are closer to Evangelion than anything we see in common media
Christianity, I forgive you.

Now kill all the Christian revisionists plz.

>>40232
Technically all the memes about "biblically accurate angels" as eldritch beings refer to the angels depicted in the Book of Enoch, which never made it into the Bible.

>>6750
I've been reading his shit and he writes either dreamy, fantastical stories, or horror stories. And IMO he's way better at the former. A lot of his horror stories boil down to "AND THE MONSTER WAS A MAAAAAAAAANNNN" at the end, very schlocky. But his non horror stories are very vivid.

>>40243
they appear in Ezekiel

>>40243
Based Enoch.

>>40243
Angels look like very beautiful people, so if by "closer to Evangelion" they meant Rei then that's correct, but those "biblically accurate angels" are not actually angels but other heavenly beings.

>>40255
>Angels look like very beautiful people
FUCKING ANTHROPOCENTRISM REEEE!!

The imagination of so many people is so… weak.

>>40256
It's how they are described in the Bible…

>>40257
Okay, the Bible sucks then, worst fiction book ever. I'd rather believe the Old Ones exist than this.

Why do people believe in all this? The likelihood of angels resembling us, based on how much incomprehensible and traumatizing shit there is in our universe, is extremely low. And yet people would rather believe in this than in some terrifying and ugly monster-gods, I do not understand. Are people that naive that they'd buy into it?

>>40259 (me)
And don't tell me it's "the look I am comfortable with," people with bird wings are weird. Why don't they look like some cute critters or whatever like in Madoka Magika? Why do they have to look exactly like humans? And especially, why should it be their default form? It doesn't make sense, it just looks like whoever came up with the idea of angels couldn't think of anything better.

>>40259
The "reasoning" is that humans were made in God's own image, since they are the height of creation… It's probably cope for animals being atheists or some shit like that.

>>40264
>The "reasoning" is that humans were made in God's own image, since they are the height of creation…
Talk about pride being a sin.

People speculate about the aliens being real and yet humans are somehow God's greatest creation. This did not age well.

But they're cute though?

>>40456
They would? How does he know how horses think?

>>40026
His sleep was not a respite but a relentless deluge of night terrors. He found himself trapped beneath a cerulean surface, his lungs crying out for air as he strained against the crushing weight of the water. He fought against the suffocating current, only to find himself unable to escape, his screams dissolving into desperate bubbles that rose towards the sunlit surface, a distant reminder of a world he was being dragged away from.

Shaken awake by the terror of drowning, he sat up, gasping for breath, the very real sensation of water evaporating from his lungs. Sweat-soaked sheets clung to his trembling form, the scent of fear permeating the otherwise fragrant room. His eyes darted across the room, the familiar shadows playing tricks on his haunted mind.

His torment was ceaseless, sleep giving no quarter. These nightmare visions were punctuated with the chilling symphony of gunfire and the crescendo of strangled screams.

As he thrashed in his opulent bed, ensconced within the high-rise apartment of New Gaslight, his unconscious mind waged war against spectral foes. He embodied ruthlessness, his heart morphed into a cold, calculating sentinel, indifferent to the innocents swept away in the tide of his battle or the devastation that followed in his wake. His survival was the solitary beacon guiding his actions.

He rolled onto his side, a bead of sweat slipping from his brow, staining the plush pillow beneath him. Another jolt of fear sent him tumbling into the valley of dreams once more.

The dreamscape shifted, the city's menacing skyline replaced by the expansive openness of prairies. Stalks of wheat swayed ominously, brushing against the fabric of his subconscious, whispering secrets he had locked away. As abruptly as it had begun, his peaceful prairie morphed into another horrifying tableau. The tranquility of the field soon transformed into a snare, the open sky closing in, the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

Now, he was encased within a claustrophobic wooden box, the damp earth seeping in through the cracks. The taste of the grave filled his mouth, the oppressive weight of his premature burial pressing down on him. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribcage, the muffled thump echoing within his earthen prison.