Not really, but close enough. It’s 7th grade meets The Dunwich Horror.
Tomorrow is election day in the United States and yesterday was Halloween. Coincidence? Here’s some political advice from master of cosmic horror and insanity, HP Lovecraft, on Republicans from 1936:
As for the Republicans — how can one regard seriously a frightened, greedy, nostalgic huddle of tradesmen and lucky idlers who shut their eyes to history and science, steel their emotions against decent human sympathy, cling to sordid and provincial ideals exalting sheer acquisitiveness and condoning artificial hardship for the non-materially-shrewd, dwell smugly and sentimentally in a distorted dream-cosmos of outmoded phrases and principles and attitudes based on the bygone agricultural-handicraft world, and revel in (consciously or unconsciously) mendacious assumptions (such as the notion that real liberty is synonymous with the single detail of unrestricted economic license or that a rational planning of resource-distribution would contravene some vague and mystical ‘American heritage’…) utterly contrary to fact and without the slightest foundation in human experience? Intellectually, the Republican idea deserves the tolerance and respect one gives to the dead.
— HP Lovecraft, 1936
Letter to C.L. Moore (August 1936), quoted in “H.P. Lovecraft, a Life” by S.T. Joshi, p. 574
In the now fashionable area of Brooklyn Heights where dodging oncoming strollers is the sport of pedestrians lies a first floor studio apartment where horror author HP Lovecraft lost his mind. 169 Clinton Street, on the corner of Clinton and State in Brooklyn, New York to be percise.
Lovecraft, best known for his “Cthulu Mythos” lived there for several years in the mid 1920’s. What we now call Brooklyn Heights– then part of a larger neighborhood called Red Hook– was the first suburb in the United States and a frequent residential destination for immigrants.
Lovecraft, desperate for any work took his frustration out on every race, creed, and color including his own. As what happens with many people who move to New York from elsewhere he felt more alone than ever. Even though he was surrounded by millions of people.
Lovecraft would later return to his native Providence, Rhode Island but the one thing he left here in Brooklyn was part of his sanity.