I seem to remember seeing this before, though I’ll be damned if I can remember where. The inscription, from what can be made out reads as follows:
To R.H. Barlow, Esq., whose Sculpture hath given Immortality to this trivial Design of his oblig’d of all obdt (obedient) Servant.
Cthulhu
H.P. Lovecraft
11th May, 1934
Barlow was a close friend of Lovecraft and collaborated with him on several stories including, one might reasonably conclude, one of his most famous, The Call of Cthulhu. Lovecraft went so far as to make Barlow his literary executor.
Despite its crude nature, it’s still a great representation of Cthulhu, not only because it is directly from the mind of his creator but also for the inclusion of the multiple, spider-like eyes. Few illustrations of the Lord of R’lyeh come to mind that show him this way.
Monkey Dust is a hard cartoon to describe without completely blowing the premise and turning people away from it insofar as it comes off as completely disturbed. Which it most certainly is. Nevertheless, I have been obsessed with it since I found out about it and, like most obsessions, it needs to be shared.
Monkey Dust is a nightmare vision of Britain, a dark, twisted other world full of giant advertising conglomerates like Labia, who takes the job of rebranding cancer as “Closure”, an attractive end-of-life option. Its citizens are no less bizarre. Take Mr. Ivan Dobsky, The Meat-Safe Murderer or so he was known until he was cleared 27 years later. He himself always said he “never done it. I only said I done it so they would take the electrodes of me nipples.” Then there’s Geoff, the first-time cottager, who despite his meek, introverted personality holds the lofty goal of fellating a complete stranger in a public place. There’s also Clive, who constantly comes home late only to tell his wife a lie based on the lyrics to The Eagles’s “Hotel California”, inept chat-room pedophiles, pretentious yuppies, and classically trained actors.
These series of interconnected vignettes and recurring characters make for a delightfully sick experience but it is no doubt one you will either love or hate. Some may be turned off by the humor on display here as it is unapologetically dark; but for those who enjoy their laughs more on the grim side of things you are in for quite a treat.
Quercus, which is Portugal’s Association for the Conservation Nature, wants you to know that the fight against global warming must go on. Humans must continue their efforts to battle this planet-wide crisis because if we don’t, the chimps are going to start hanging themselves. They just want you to know that. No pressure or anything.
A Bridgestone advertisement, chronicling a dog’s attempt to end his own life after witnessing his bitch’s infidelity, leads to an Ectomite brainstorming session, not regarding the sale of rubber radials, but intead selling the act itself:
I can see it now, The scene opens on a suburban housewife in a black and white kitchen, frantically chopping away at ( and missing) a tomato. The baritone male voice over begins over the scene. “Every day tasks are such a bother. Why not just kill yourself?” The woman turns to the camera, smiles, and then turns the knife quickly on herself.
A Thai ad from all the way back in 2005 — ancient by internet standards — for Bridgestone tires. Giving too much away might ruin it for those who have not seen it but I will say this, he deserved better than her. That poodle was a slut.
Perhaps a realization of George Putnam’s apocryphal fear-mongering, Farm Sluts is a short film by director Collin Friesen and starring Cgris Parnell. Made for Fox Searchlight’s Searchlab project, it chronicles the meteoric downfall of a gentleman who unwisely opens some pornographic spam. One guess as to what’s inside.
From the 2005 album Rossz Csillag Alatt Született, Ongyilkos Vasarnap is, essentially, a cover of the infamous “hungarian suicide song” based around samples of Billie Holiday’s version (Gloomy Sunday) - but leaving out the third stanza added by Holiday’s producers, which was meant to soften the song’s imagery by claiming that it was all “just a dream”.
The original song was composed by Hungarian pianist, Rezs? Seress, after he broke up with his girlfriend in 1933. By the time it reached America in 1936 it was associated with numerous suicides throughout Europe, and was said to have been banned by the BBC. The US media took note of its marketing value, but deemed it too intense for mass consumption - leading to the decision tack on the 3rd verse. Despite this, the song’s reputation was set in stone when Seress jumped to his death from his apartment in 1968. It’s also said, that after the song became popular, Seres contacted his ex-girlfriend and the next day she committed suicide - leaving a two-word note that said simply “Gloomy Sunday”.
It wasn’t until I moved from the East Coast to the West Coast that my opinion on ants changed from “loathsome menace” to “fascinating hive beasts”. In my journey toward armchair entomology I’ve come across a number of strange and fascinating ants, but somehow overlooked this spiteful creature.
Camponotus Saundersi (Latin for “Fuck you, buddy”) has two glands filled with toxins running the length of its body. Any animal aiming to make this ant a meal is subject to the toxins in those glands. But poison animals are so passe. Camponotus Saundersi goes one spiteful step further than those half-assing poison hoarders. When cornered the ant will clench its glands, resulting in an explosion of toxins. Yes that’s right, this ant will suicide bomb a predator rather than allow itself to suffer the indignity of digestion.
Any animal that would commit willful self destruction just to spite its antagonist is OK in my book.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
