R'lyehian Quotes

this book is a wasted effort

cryptarchaeoxenotheology (the study of hidden, ancient, and alien gods)

Are you ignorant? Oh yes. Will all your striving to change that reduce your ignorance by one jot? No. The larger you build the bonfire, the more darkness it reveals.

spiritual entry point for an ultra-tellurian agency

Imagine a pulsating plane of light-that-is-not-light warping in from a direction that can’t be pointed to and finally intersecting with the horizon line of your own vision.

the dark joy of meeting the divine and knowing it as completely Other.

Lovecraft give us the Great Old Ones: not tentacled kaiju from the depths of a physical sea, but narrative-arc-deviating singularities or ill-behaved compressions of ideal form;

Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through. It is potential liberation and renewal as well as enslavement and existential death. –- R D Laing

the goal of Life has always been to consume the past in a holocaust of present forms, each a potential beachhead on the future, a probe into the Possible.

Zum Raum wird hier die Zeit. “Time becomes space, here.

There is rarely destruction in Lovecraft, but rather there are undoings. His apocalypse, heralded by Nyarlathotep, is that reality sort of unhappens.

Most channeled wisdom is comprised of merely good advice, common-sense things that everybody knows already, passed through a filter of higher spiritual authority for easier digestibility.

as far as the career of Life itself is concerned, we are nothing but drive: a constant, frantic, multi-limbed pushing forward into the stuff of Time, and a concurrent dominance of Space and progressively higher dimensions.

Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny and all that; and from this mad, blind nothingness comes all the mad, blind nothingnesses of the R’lyehian undertaking – qlipothic kin to the mushin no shin, mind-of-no-mind, of Zen Buddhism.

If Yog Sothoth is Wheeler's quantum foam, or even a ghastly santorum froth of excrement and blood, of semen and petrochemicals, it is still only a nothing defined by a something; with Azathoth as the potential for the foam, the logos of it.

Of course, leaving alone the things best left alone is never the R’lyehian way. Does the wasp think about the possible consequences when it stings the larger beast? When we hesitate before looking into a mirror, do we truly know what gives us pause?

What is a mother,” I murmured, “if not the interface between that-which-is-not and that-which-is? A conduit into the world. A great passageway from formlessness into form. Mothers are to be feared.” “And loved,” she countered. “And loved,” I agreed. “Both. Both, in all their terrible, perfect aspects...

The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens to that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was conscious ego and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach. –- CG Jung, The Meaning of Psychology for Modern Man (1934)

Our ideas – all these clean Platonic vertices and tidy Euclidean planes – originate from squelching glands, tendrils of synapse, all using inelegant, asymmetrical squirming proteins as a medium of communication for what is ultimately energy. Chaos talking to itself, emerging through us, although through an aspect of us we rarely recognize and quite advisingly refute.

In the black-earth / red-earth binary of early Egyptian theology, it may be surprising to realize that the ancient Egyptians did not worship gods per se. They instead spoke of names, the netjeru, the word being depicted by an upright axe. Osiris, Isis, Horus (as the Greeks called them millennia later) were names of something, the same something, and not necessarily things unto themselves.

So the Madness of Cthulhu is not clinical dysfunction or psychosis, but a hermeneutic suspension of the pedestrian, rational mind that is required to successfully navigate the waking world. In its place is the supra-rational, the information that comes without the need for communication, egoic disassociation, the disintermediated experience of experience. What Jones refers to here as the Black Gnosis.

The Black Gnosis is Black, not in a dull dualistic or Satanic sense (worldviews that are intrinsically tied to an anthropocentric philosophy), but Black in the sense that it is not born of rationality, of the logical parsing out of one thing from another, of any of the divisive concerns that could be considered human. The Black Gnosis arises from and constantly partakes of the undifferentiated and chaotic ground of being. It is a gnosis of the Gulf, of the Empty.