Deep Cuts in a Lovecraftian Vein

Inconceivable.

Vinyl catalogue project, entry 052: The Lurking Fear (2016, Cadabra Records) by H. P. Lovecraft, Andrew Leman, Theologian, Teratoma Sound Lab. LP.

Weird Trains | The Motion Demon by Stefan Grabiński YouTube video by Infinite Text

It's #WeirdWednesday and today we talk about weird trains and "Polish Lovecraft" Stefan Grabinski #booktube www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcUY...

Lovecraft didn't do that a lot - certainly, didn't needle Morton anymore than he needled anyone else - though it is notable for including reference to the KKK. Can't speak to how close it is to O'Connor's behavior in letters.

I don't agree with that. HPL knew one (James F. Morton, NAACP), and he didn't say some stuff to him that he said to other people. HPL was generally more considerate to avoid hurting folks' feelings, though he did tease Morton a bit.

GLOBALHEAD

Bruce Sterling once wrote a story you would feel - "Dori Bangs."

"I am the sworn enemy of armchair exoticism, & believe in writing about things one personally knows--except of course in the case of Dunsanian phantasy or cosmic infinity."
—H. P. Lovecraft to August Derleth, 31 Jan 1931, ES1.320

Book catalogue project, entry 598: Primal Sources: Essays on H. P. Lovecraft (2003, Hippocampus Press) by S. T. Joshi. Paperback. Clean pages, minimal wear.

an all trans electronic music collective called THE DAUGHTERS OF WENDY CARLOS

The bible was covered in a white hairy hide in a silver box, cunningly hidden.

"Ah only seen it onct," she said. "Mr. Le Loup, he kept it hidden. Wore gloves to open the box."

She opened it. There were blasphemies in that book, but also...the Le Loup family tree.

Liberty scratched her name out.

"...we could use a tracker. How would you like some gainful employment with the U. S. government?"

They found a bluecoat for her, and a hat. She had the pick of dresses in the plantation, but would have none. Union breeches suited her.

"One thang," she said. "'fore we leave. Somethin' I gotta do."

Wolf pelts were peeled off with silver-edged knives. Bites and scratches treated with whiskey, silver, and prayer. They stood over her body, caught between shapes.

"Finish it," she said. "Ah'm glad."

"What's yer name?" Cap'n Birchstock asked.

"Liberty Le Loup," she spat.

"Well, Miss Liberty..."

Caught up to them in an open spot free of trees.

They were two on one. Bigger. Stronger. She was half-starved, new to her change. Jebediah felt as much as heard the crunch of bone, the howl of pain that was half woman, half damned.

They made nice targets, standing above her, doused in moonlight.

The Bowie knife had been blessed in the Alamo; silver dollar melted along its edge, a jeweler had polished it sharp enough to shave, then etched the runes fine. The wereskin felt it bite once, twice. Its head fell away.

"Theys gettin' away!"

The last two ran. She ran after. Jebediah on her heels.

It's hard to hit man or beast on the move. Even with runework and silver, you have to hit somethin' vital. The biggest of the werekin came on the Texian as his Colt ran dry.

There was no hate for the Rebels like a Southern loyalist. And vice versa. They went down rough & tumble, fang and claw.

James and John, the brothers, stood back to back; one loaded while the other aimed and fired.

She had never seen what a Minié ball could do. One clipped a shadow's arm, and the arm fell into the dark swamp water, where an alligator rose up and claimed it.

Five Le Loup brothers...now three...

"Wolf is smart enough to stay away from man,," Cap'n Birchstock said. "Half-dog, tho', ain't skeered o' man."

The rearmost man fell first. A scream. Birchstock wheeled, fired. A cloud of silver shavings in the moonlight.

The were tore at its own skin, like a man strugglin' out of long underwear.

Jebediah kept his Colt Navy trained on her back as they moved into the shadow of the trees.

"No offense, miss," he said. Might have been handsome once. Before Gettysburg. He caught ghouls feasting on the Union dead.

"It'd be a mercy," she said, honest. Then cocked her head. "They know we're here."

"M-momma worked in the house," she said. "C-couldn't keep away from Mr. Le Loup. S-she thought he was gonna kill me, but..."

She gave a hollow laugh like a bark.

"...my twin sister was smaller. Only cull the runts!"

Out in the swamp, a howl. Two. Three. She sniffed the air.

"Ah got their scent."

Danke

They found her in the hotbox. Sherman's army had advanced. White folks fled. The slaves escaped. Someone had locked her in.

She clawed at the hot metal.

Her first change. Emaciated. Half-crazed. Starving. The hunters left a sheep out; she devoured it.

The bastard half-sister.

Their new tracker.

The second volume of my gothic Horror comic, Worms is available to buy from my shop. If you like catholic guilt, a pervasive sense of despair, decay and doom you’ll love Worms. Grab a copy at erikapriceart.bigcartel.com

Vinyl catalogue project, entry 051: The Loved Dead (2020, Cadabra Records) by H. P. Lovecraft, C. M. Eddy, Anthony D. P. Mann, Chris Bozzone. LP. Test press. 19/25.

Quest, Day V: This morning, the orange Cerebus Cat peed on the runeblade. For a moment, it flared back with all of the malevolence of its old self. Then Candee laughed, and the runes dulled. She promised to wash off the offending liquid with the blood of their enemies.

It seemed to cheer up.

At night, she sings, holding the dragon's eye pommel to her mouth as though it were a microphone. Goblin Pop songs. The runes along its length have begun to bleed a strange, black fluid. Perhaps it is my imagination, but the voice has changed.

And has begun to sing along with Candee.

If you see this, post an eye 👁️

<<REAP! MAIM! KILL!>> The doomblade sang, drenched in gore, its runes shining a ruddy light through the blood that soaked its black blade.

But as it lurched forward for the kill, Candee pulled back.

The three-headed cat bared its fangs.

"KITTEH!" Candee shouted.

The runes flickered...pinkly.

Quest, Day IV: Candee found my supply of crystalized sugarsap. This triggered a berserker sugar high. All I could do to keep up with her. The blade must weigh as much as she does, yet she is strong enough to wield it with devastating effect. I heard them both laugh at the same time. Disturbing.