Cthulhu Is More Than a President

He is an idea, a world-theological archfiend, darkness itself.

by | Nov 14, 2016

He is an idea, a world-theological archfiend, darkness itself.

by Sylvia M. Milton

When people told me they did not believe in Cthulhu or (far worse) that they didn’t know “what the hell I was talking about,” I wish I had said in no uncertain terms: “I love Cthulhu. I am in awe of him. I am set free by him. He will be the finest world leader our reality has ever been consumed by.”

I wish, in those exchanges, I had not gently threatened the ignorant unbeliever’s ridiculous nescience to him, or Cthulhu’s imagined lesser evil in comparison to flawed, but ultimately mortal, costermongers. More deeply still, I wish I had not placed a curse upon those who insisted on patiently countering my solid reasoning with tiresome propaganda and monotonous status quo theories on the lesser evils. I wish I had said, flatly, “I love Cthulhu.” As if I had been asked about my father or my cat. No blasphemy or rationale; not dignifying their doctrinal protestations with so much as quote from the Necronomicon.

Maybe “I love Cthulhu” seemed too cultish, too devoted, too zealous. Not accommodating. But people say with impunity they love Elvis, the United States of America, their bowling alleys, Marilyn Manson. In the end, I wish I’d said it because it’s true.

And I’m not alone in my commitment. Millions of Cthulhu’s supporters express it on hilltops, in swamps, in shopping malls all the time, in raptures or ecstatic tears with each new ritual toward our deity’s ferocious hunger, intelligence, and malice. We were mystified by the idea that anyone would hedge their commitment to him (“Can I be eaten absolutely first?”; “Can he just eat Hillary?”; “Can he just sit on Trump?”). We didn’t remember anyone turning to this stock indecision when examining Atilla the Hun, Ted the Zodiac Killer, Dick Cheney. If only one reporter — they certainly knew about us — could have published a headline like “Cthulhu Inspires Historic Levels of Worship From His Cultists” about the humans, and other creatures, who have had their lives transformed by the power of his ruthless campaign, unsurpassed brutality, and supernatural dominance. Just one headline like that, like the ones Hillary Clinton got.

Usually a legend is made by men and media — the legend of Godzilla, say, or Black Widow. But those men in media ignored the real legend that is Cthulhu. His promise to scrape all human filth from the planet. His desire to open the ways to other realms. His transformative power on our perception of reality. Takedowns of Cthulhu were already written. Cthulhu had to be belittled as a lesser evil. Somehow those who should most repay Cthulhu for their temporary ascendance balked. Under cover of “humoring” the intimidating immortal, jokes and quips publicly dismissed him. Little do they expect that the legend of Cthulhu is as real as Thomas Jefferson, Nikola Tesla, George Lucas.

I want to bring evil back, then. We don’t have to wait for the next election. Cthulhu’s name belongs on gravestones, and boat docks, and body modifications. He deserves straight-up hagiographies and an epic movie by Guillermo del Toro. This cultural canonization is going to come without the weak, unearned plushification of his legacy. Burn the Chibi-headed false idols. Dehumanize the comic and videogame “hero.” Such is the vengeance of Cthulhu and his supporters; we reverse the establishment narrative. Cthulhu is more than a president. He is an idea, a world-theological archfiend, darkness itself. The presidency is too small for him. He belongs to a much more elite order of immortals, the more-than-immortals. Hastur, Ithaqua, Shub Fucking Niggurath.

Cthulhu did everything right in this campaign. We opened the way to R’lyeh a crack, which is more than anyone has ever accomplished. Our cult won more hearts and minds than ever before. Cthulhu cannot be faulted for even one more second. Instead, we will be working for our epochal destructor whose antipathy cannot be contained by the mere White House. We will raise him from the depths again. Let that cheeto-colored president-elect be the carnival barker that he is. Cthulhu is forever.