The presidential candidate talks adolescent genocides, professional rivalries, and haunted crypt-island essentials.
By Gladys Hoots
When I was six I knew I wanted to rule the world. I wanted to be the kind of grownup that told everyone what to do. And since that’s the job of the President of the United States, it seemed like a worthy life goal to choose.
But I’ve realized that you don’t have to grow up that much to control the weak people that surround you every day. (I’m 10) That’s why I created a professional trolling service. I target someone, harass them, then escalate until they pay our “service fee.” I’m very good at it. I’ve even consulted for Hillary’s Correct the Record outfit.
Cthulhu is someone who’s never waited for permission to do anything. He’s been a destructor and a change-maker for his whole life practically. But people only talk in furtive whispers about the atrocities he performed when he was a kid like me. It turns out he’s always been an annihilist. He’s always wanted to crush the life from inferior lifeforms.
I know, because I asked him! I emailed Cthulhu to find out what he was like when he was in school, why he loves his favorite tomes, and what happened when he got caught doing something naughty. (The first time my dad caught me phishing I almost lost my laptop, so I know what it’s like.)
He has shaped the way I think about my lack of a future, because so many of the qualities he has now are ones that I would have wanted to have when I got older: cold, ruthless, hungry. But it makes me so excited that he could become our last president. If someone had to do it before I could, I’m happy that it will be him. It’s really not that much skin off my back.
Reading our interview, I think it’s very obvious that Cthulhu can be devastating and relatable at the same time. Sometimes, we expect an extra-dimensional entity like him to be really serious always, but I want people to understand that he can talk about deep issues and savory baby entrails, and that’s okay. He’s a real being—just like I am, just like my mom is, just like you are. He’s not just a pretend presidential nominee like Hillary or Trump. He’s a god. He’s superior to us humans in every way! And his favorite black magic book is the Cthäat Aquadingen, which is an excellent choice.
What was the first book you ever saw yourself in?
Human worm named Gladys… this is the question you ask of me? I remember victims who carved my likeness on the mountainsides as an entreaty to my non-existent mercy and warning to all who would come after their demise at my hand.
The importance of seeing your graven image may be a curiosity, but realize there is power in it. When you have hundreds crying out at the base of a basalt statue of yourself, you can taste the pain and longing. It moves you. It energizes and awakens.
What’s your favorite black magic book?
The best were written by beings far more advanced than yours, yet just as doomed. Your race scribed a passable book on many of those under my domain. You call it the Cthäat Aquadingen. It tells of story of those who live, breed and feast under your neglected oceans.
Some parts are painfully erroneous. That is what happens when a primitive tries to understand and express that which she should not know.
I don’t have many friends, but I have a growing list of employees. Do you have friends? Do you have employees?
You cling to meaningless concepts. A weakness of the human race. A consequence of your frail shape. There may be agreement or disagreement between entities on actions taken. There is nothing beyond, save imposing one’s will upon the weak and unworthy.
You are confident now, but what were your insecurities in school?
I exist in the before, now and the yet to come. I read the stars and the threads that bind them. I scry the thoughts of kings and slaves alike. It is nothing like the memorizations that keep you blind.
Tell me about a time that you got caught doing something naughty, and how did you deal with it?
Hastur and I agreed to feast on a planet together. I hungered greatly. I feasted before he arrived and he was greatly angered. We fought. I won. He has yet to best me.
If you were on a haunted crypt-island sunken under the Pacific Ocean, what three things would you want to have with you?
A cult of humans on the surface to carry out my will, a comfortable throne, and the occasional overly-curious interloper to snack upon. You should visit sometime.
If you had to give any advice to your 10-year-old self what would you say to him?
Your reliance on linear time annoys me.
Reprinted with permission from Cela Magazineell
