Cthulu, who knthewlew?

   
     Brace yourselves, friends and neighbors, because I'm about to take a pretty controversial stance. One that a lot of people aren't going to like (which is why I employed the word 'controversial.') It may even spur some people to action, though admittedly I doubt it, as I haven't managed to do that ever before (still waiting on that Roomba money, you guys.) Okay, consider yourselves warned, because I'm about to get all kinds of in your face.
     To put it simply, I've had enough of this Cthulu business. I know, I can the murmurs of revolt even now, as people the world over simmer with rage at my proclamation.
     So, to put it less simply and thus provide further explanation, well, here is a sizable collection of words, put in a certain order so as to express a particular message.
     For those who have managed thus far to avoid learning of this Chtulu business, allow me to provide an abridged background. Cthulu is a fictional character created by one H.P. Lovecraft, a posthumously admired writer of fictional horror and owner of what is arguably the best name ever for a person who writes fictional horror. Cthulu is a gigantic, super old monster with an octopus like head, a humanoid body with scaly skin, big old scary claws, and of course, wings, because why wouldn't he have wings? If you were a giant fictional monster, you'd probably have wings.
     Anyway, Cthulu apparently lives trapped in an underwater city that isn't Atlantis, but is apparently some other fictional underwater city. It is popularly "believed" that Cthulu will some day return to wreak havoc and generally ruin everything.
     So, what's the problem? Why should I have an issue with some fictional, world ending monster? Well, since you read me asking, allow me to elucidate.
     The problem is that more and more people are using Cthulu as a deity for ironic worship, in order to, one assumes, to make fun of people who worship a deity with sincerity. Now, as anyone who has spoken or may speak to me for any length of time, or has heard or may hear stories in which I am involved, or has read or may read of me knows, I appreciate, to put it mildly, any and all skilled uses of sarcasm and satire. The problem is, that's not truly what transpires here.
     What this is, what it has turned into, is yet another opportunity for a group of people to wrap themselves in the same kind of smug condescension in which one often finds the truly devout enveloped. The self satisfied smirk of those in the know sits just as readily and agreeably on the faces of the Cthulu Praising Idolators of Irony as it does the Televangelists, or the Bible Thumping Homophobes, or the Celebrity Scientologists.
    Which is the problem. How long before the irony turns serious, and these self-contented supplicants of sardonicism expect us to take them seriously? Not as long as one might think, I'd wager. Just look at the aforementioned Scientology, eh? Even today's most prominent religions largely started out as minor theologies, their followers often mocked, ignored, or worse, before it managed to attain the lofty heights of overbearing cultural influence they now enjoy. Sure, sure, the disciples of Cthulu are seemingly less devoted, opting not to aggressively spread their beliefs by means of tracts, outspoken leaders, and occasional religiously justified violence, instead choosing to make and sell stickers, T-shirts, knit caps and the like over the internet, but that's how it all starts, people.
     No good ideology begins with consumer merchandise.
     Although, starting with the internet does seem a pretty good move, when you think about it.
     And what will the rest of us do, we chaste and charitable few, when a true manifesto appears? When some charismatic leader, clad in a reclaimed sweater, comfortable slacks and a bow tie (this part is particularly speculative)comes forth with a defined Dogma of the Church of Cthulu, which he or she will read from his or her holy tablet computer, almost certainly fit inside a case that makes it look like an old book, what then? How may steps is it from this to honest lobbying (well, maybe not honest exactly, but you know what I mean,) to weird little separatist communes?
     Realize and remember, things like this always start small, until what we may politely call a "visionary" takes control of it. And I, for one, have no interest in seeing what it looks like when people begin to expect to be taken seriously for their commitment to irony.
     Seriously.
-John