Monthly archives: September 2015

5 Great Movies That Would Be Even Better If Lovecraft Had Written Them

Let’s be fair, there have been a lot of movies whose fame can be traced back to the great Mr. Lovecraft: The Thing, Pacific Rim, Alien, Pans Labyrinth, and Event Horizon to name a few of the obvious ones.

But even the great works could be greater, and I think that adding Lovecraft is the answer for success!

The way I see it, there isn’t enough Lovecraftian prose weaved into our favorite stories. That’s when I asked myself which movies probably could have benefited from a touch by the scribe himself.

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The Shappel

Jordan Hofer pulls no punches in this unsettling story. It’s horrible, viscerally repulsive, and all too real. Enjoy!

Poverty was to blame. For it was only a child, lonesome and the victim of parental and societal neglect. Its parents were permanently unemployed and suffered from maladies psychological, purely physical, and self-inflicted. Its mother drank wood alcohol and the father huffed petrol.

A meager inheritance from the deceased Harold Shappel, entrepreneur of witch trial tourism, fed and housed his debased son and sole heir. Harold Junior and his wife Martha née Corey, clothed the Shappel boy in rags and smothered the rags in a lumpy gray overcoat to keep it warm, even in spring and summer months. The child seemed to produce very little heat of its own metabolism. It smelled of black mold and horridly sour body odor.

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Walkers

A surgical strike at your amygdala, where fear is produced.

The Stygian Walkers approach.

First hear the rumblings, the chthonic quakes that shake shelves and spires alike. Heads rush out to the street, tilting backwards to squint up through the haze—to see pinpricks burning red, outshining the obscured sun. A single spindly limb plunges through the distant mountain, shattering sand and stone and soil. The crimson eyes sway, and grow.

Bang: the alarm’s thin reverberation. Final few feet scamper down stairs to join the valley church ex tempore. A wave of birds flee shrieking overhead. The ground shudders once more, another closer step. For a moment reigns oppressive silence, broken only by the wail of an inconsolable infant in its mother’s unsteady arms. The minister, raising trembling hands to the sky, shrieks:

Not upon us, oh King! Not upon us!

The cry echoes, unnoticed.

The foot raises.

 

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Have you seen The King In Yellow?

kiy

 

Because James Monahan has, and The King is horrible, mesmerizing, beautiful.

Check out more of his work at Monahan Photography!

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Part V of The Curse of Azathoth’s Amulet: LOST.

Dr. Taylor drove as long and as fast as he reasonably could. His eyes felt like they were made of sandpaper. His yawns threatened to crack his jaw and no amount of head shaking and skin pinching could keep him alert. The second time he drifted off, he recognized it was time to pull over. If he didn’t, he’d die in the resulting crash and all really would be lost.

He passed an exit that announced the presence of several hotel chains. The street he eventually found himself on was littered with the refuse of humanity. He pulled into a two story-hotel whose neon “Vacancy” sign had a burned out “Y”. The potholes were more like craters and there were only five cars he could see.

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Posted in Stories, The Curse of Azathoth's Amulet | Leave a comment

Introducing Matthew Davenport!

This is a Picture of a fair skinned male wearing glasses with a well manicured beard. His facial expression is one of bemused confusion.

Matt Davenport

Well, this is awkward. An introductory post on Shoggoth.net.

Dang it! I mean exciting.

It would only be awkward if I were a Mi-Go, hiding in the flesh of Matthew Davenport, a new editor at Shoggoth.net.

And I’m not. That’d be silly.

Since I’m obviously not an alien being that travels through time and space choosing to currently be wearing a Matt-Suit, I’d love to tell you a little bit about him … err, me! Continue reading »

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Failing, yes, but failing UPWARD!

O Gentle Reader, your faithful correspondent thought it would all go so well. Taking the Greyhound Bus (now with alleged Wi-Fi and power outlets!) across the country from Las Vegas to Providence, Rhode Island over 3 full days would be an honest homage to H.P. Lovecraft, who traveled by bus back in the day before regular commercial flight (and, apparently, quixotic attempts to write a novel draft on two cross-country bus trips).

Yes, folks, “riding the dog” across our fair land was a FAIL creatively and even makingsensely. Even when the Wi-Fi appeared AND the plugs were working (“A fuse musta blown,” several drivers in a row said, and also said that only mechanics at a major stop could flip the breaker back into the “Keep bored passengers from forcing the bus off a goddamn cliff” position), did you know that a bus is an incredibly distracting environment to work in? This is why you rarely read historical reports of Vincent van Gogh or Hieronymus Bosch doing the work they intended to at 70 mph seated next to a sweaty farmboy.

Image is a scene from hell, a platypuse creature is carrying a pike with a bound human on it that is peirced by a ballista bolt while a head with feet wearing a hood follows behind.

For example, Bosch originally intended this to be a still-life of a bowl of fruit.

>>> Read the rest at Sean Hoade Brings You
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