>Antarctica in the 1920s, when Lovecraft began his active work, remained a little-explored region, which fueled the writer's interest in it.There is nowhere left like this today except outer space, which is objectively cringeworthy.
>>24736807Space doesn't exist. It's all a Helio nonsense Masonic religion. Earth is fixed and immovable. Get over it globetards.
>>24736807there's still the bottom of the sea
>>24736807the ocean is still fair game and will likely stay that way for the next century
>>24736812They've already sent manned subs to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. It's over.
>>24736807Pynchon does an amazing job of pastiching this aspect of Lovecraft in Against the Day. But literature has barely touched the inner world, stop being a plotfag.
>>24736814until there are satellites that can see all the way down to the bottom overhead 24/7 then there is still potentially something down thereand when that happens youll have to google "lava tubes" to have a new boogeyman location
>>24736816Does he whack a huge metal gong at the end?
>>24736822That's where the Balrogs are hiding.
>>24736807no one has successfully colonized the nullarbor plain. just saying.
>>24736827>Now, knowing perfectly the instant of arrival, having willed itself up to the necessary temperature, it began, methodical and unrelenting, to burn its way out of its enclosure. Those who had chosen to stay aboard ship for as long as possible, one by one, as in a kind of moral exhaustion, let go, tumbled into flight, up the ladders, out the hatches, away over the brow and down into the thoroughfares of the city. But with only dwindling moments of normal history remaining, where could any of them have found refuge in time? No escort of Tenderloin toughs, no chamber of privilege however deep within the anchors of any of the great bridges, no train- or water-tunnel could have preserved even one of these impure refugees from what was to come. >Fire and blood were about to roll like fate upon the complacent multitudes. Just at the peak of the evening rush-hour, electric power failed everywhere throughout the city, and as the gas mains began to ignite and the thousand local winds, distinct at every street-corner, to confound prediction, cobblestones erupted skyward, to descend blocks away in seldom observed yet beautiful patterns. All attempts to counter-attack or even to avoid the Figure would be defeated. Later, fire alarms would go unanswered and the firemen on the front lines find themselves too soon without reinforcement, or the hope of any. The noise would be horrific and unrelenting, as it grew clear even to the willfully careless that there was no refuge. >The mobilization was city-wide as reports flew of negotiations with visitors unnamed, military leaves canceled, opera performances cut in half—arias, even famous ones, omitted altogether—to allow for early audience dismissal, railway stations echoing with troop movement, card and dice games up Tenderloin alleyways rudely interrupted and usually at critical moments, fear among the populace of twilight hours too abruptly extended, of indistinct faces, of high windows and what might, for the first time in civic memory, plausibly enter there. . . .
>>24736843holy fucking KEK.
>>24736807There's always India and the horrors such a country offers. Fertile breeding ground for the imagination.
>>24736843This has a weird DFW quality that is making me feel uncomfortable.
>>24736961“Hi, I’m Howard P L., and I’m an orgone addict…”“I must preface these remarks—remarks which, I assure you, are offered not as excuses but as exhumations—with the caveat that I am not, and have never been, well-equipped for the unvarnished candor supposedly requisite in these self-mortifying circles. My prose, even in speech, tends to the baroque; verbosity, I’ve been told, is my opiate. But if I am to catalogue the antecedents of my affliction — and by ‘affliction’ I refer not solely to my reliance on Reichian accumulators and their eldritch libidinal vapor, but to the deeper, chthonic dependence upon terror itself — then I must begin, inexorably, with my parents.My mother, a woman of such hysterical refinement that she once screamed at the sight of her own reflection during a fainting spell—believed me to be both a genius and a mistake, sometimes in the same sentence. She would whisper at night through the cracked doors of our decrepit Providence manse that I bore the 'taint' of something unnameable, something pre-human.And my father, well, he went mad in the Continental Hotel in Chicago after a series of dreams in which he claimed to see cities beneath the sea. I was three. He died foaming, wild-eyed, naming colors not yet discovered.Suffice it to say I inherited their anxieties in the way others inherit family heirlooms. Their psychoses fermented in me like elder things sealed beneath Antarctic ice.And but so, I first turned to orgone therapy—and by therapy, of course, I mean a deranged ritual involving a wooden box, tinfoil, and an uncomfortable amount of self-touching—not for pleasure, but for protection. You see, the dreams had begun again. The dreams of Y'ha-nthlei, and the shapes that swam in geometries antithetical to Euclid.I believed, in my mania, that accumulating enough orgone energy would create a psychic aegis against the gibbering void — a prophylactic against the real addiction, which was fear. Cosmic fear. The fear that not only are we not alone in the universe, but that we are irrelevant to it — a smudge on a petri dish in some mad blind god’s laboratory.But and so and yes, I sat in the box. For hours. Days. I missed meetings. I hallucinated pulses of bluish ether. I wrote unreadable letters to Tillinghast and Armitage and Dr. Benway himself.But even in the box, even with the hum of orgone—that syrupy, sexual static—I was not safe. I was not clean. Because addiction, friends, is not to the substance. Not even to the ritual. It is to the escape.I have fled from reality since I first saw the family genealogical chart. Since I first read Poe and felt something crack inside me like a frozen tendon.But I sit before you now—trembling, prolix, unshaven—and I say this not with pride but with the barest ember of what I once called hope: I have not sat in the orgone box for forty-nine days. And not once have I invoked Azathoth in prayer. That must count for something.
>>24736807Fuck racists, fascists, and white men
>>24736807Once all the antarctic ice melts from climate change, assuming the resulting floods and hurricanes don't kill us, then we could check out all the cool stuff that's been frozen there for thousands of years. My money is on an unknown virus.
>>24736982>But and so and yeslol
>>24736987Isn't that the plot of one of the first X-Files episodes?
>>24736807>There is nowhere left like this today except outer spaceeven then, space is most likely just barren rocks. barren rocks made of expensive metals and strange organic compounds, perhaps, but nothing as world-shattering as what Lovecraft wrote about. it's looking increasingly likely that either we're alone in the universe or we're so far away from all other forms of life that we'll never encounter them.
>>24738150what about space mining, once the right technology comes along it may become "the thing"
>>24736986Keep seething, Untermensch.
>>24738150>we're alone in the universe or we're so far away from all other forms of life that we'll never encounter themMore likely that civilisations become extinct within a few thousand years or so, meaning they never have time to contact each other.It's less than three centuries since the Industrial Revolution, and already the end is in sight for us. Exponential population growth is a death sentence.
Shant be reading
>>24736807In our current world of neurotic skepticism towards everything, where fake people and things make us all inch towards a mass psychosis, perhaps the mysterious lands of today wouldn't be places that haven't been discovered so much as places that had been forgotten, covered up, or altered. Like a layer of paint in your home, laid and painted over before you lived there, of a color you never knew or imagined that wall ever had.
>>24736807false, there are many untouched woods and deserts where no one ever put a foot
>>24736807The bottom of the ocean, dummy.
>>24738489I have spent a good amount of time deep in the forests, no matter how far in you go, how remote you are, you always find signs of humans if you take the time to look.
>>24738502must be in north AmericaSiberian boreals and other waste lands have likely never had any human contact because of how remote and inhospitable they are
>>24738872must be in north America. Also must be retarded and certainly never spent any time in Siberia or norther Russia where things are considerably more inhospitable that Siberia and still filled with artifacts.
>>24736807>There is nowhere left like this>>24736814>More than 80% of the world's oceans remain unexplored, unmapped, and unseen by humans>Umm... *YAWN* so what? I fucking hate you people.
>>24736986I wish Antarctica really had a hidden Nazi colony like the conspiracists say- just sitting and waiting for the decadent outside world to kill itself in nuclear war and rise from the ashes. I have seen documentaries about what they claim are photos of Nazi bases hidden among the snow with what looks like a giant steel door, yet I am not sure I believe it.
>SPACE!!???? DID OP SAY OUTTA SPACE?????
>>24736807bottom of the ocean, faggot. but yeah, especially with satellites there is no dry land on the planet that's still mysterious. even rando island and forests can be seen from space
>>24740203Amazon, dumbass
>>24740206you can see that shit from space you gay retard
>>24740221>YOU CAN SEE THE TOPS OF THE TREES FROM SPACE THO>t.dipshit
>>24740230there's literally nothing there and the brazilians have burned half of it down to make farms, you retarded tranny
>>24740244>trannytrannytrannytrannyYou sure do think about transgenders a lot.
>>24740250I'm just calling you what you are, troon. there is nothing more disgusting than a tranny
>>24740255Show me the contents of your hard drive RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
>>24740258I don't have any trannies or gay shit on my hard drive because that would be disgusting, troon
>>24740266>Doesn't deny having CPI rest my case, psychopath.
>>24740273I don't have that either since I'm not gay or a tranny. all child molesters are gay, like you
>>24740291similar vibe
>>24740318simon from the yogscast got vanned?
