I’ll bet you’ve always wondered. Now, from MyConfinedSpace via Ectoplasmosis and a tipoff from dissfunktional comes photographic proof of what we at the ol’ raincoaster blog have always suspected. Paging David Icke, paging David Icke, we’re sorry about the misunderstanding…
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We all have one, and sometimes we find it in the strangest place:
via SeismicTwitch
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No, it’s true.
Really.
It makes total sense.
It explains so much.
Think about it.
Once, ages ago, a race of bizarre, loathesome creatures ruled the Earth. Writhing and gibbering in the Stygian darkness of their lair, ravening for the blood of those who worshipped them, this strangely Protean race nearly destroyed the youthful planet in its ceaseless quest to slake their endless thirst for the very souls of the damned.
They were the Great Old Ones. Eventually, they were banished; we can only pray that they never return to debase the race of humans again in horrific slavery and unthinkable perversion.
And in this pantheon, one monstrosity reigned supreme.
Right now, everyone reading is thinking “You’re wrong. These guys look nothing alike.” Of course not, his true identity is obfuscated by the best possible disguise known to man: Ugly glasses. Ugly glasses, made even more opaque by parting his strangely masculine hair differently. If Cthulhu had glasses and parted to the left, these would be virtually identical, right down to the AppleStore he’s crawling out of. Think I’m lying? Take another look.
That may just be the smartest, most dangerous thing I’ve ever read on LiveJournal. But there’s more.
So. Much. More.
Check it out:
Cthulhu: imprisoned in his tomb in Rlyeh, not dead but dreaming.
Jobs: Next.
Cthulhu: The Necronomicon
Jobs: Ayn Rand, The I Ching
Cthulhu: Politics
Jobs: Politics and more Politics
Cthulhu: something of a personnel-retention issue
Jobs: upon regaining freedom, destroys his innocent rescuers
Cthulhu: Lolthulhu
Jobs: Fake Steve Jobs
Cthulhu: advanced wireless telecommunication technology
Jobs: iPhone
Think about it.
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These allegedly endangered Moon Jellyfish don’t look so all-fired rare or endangered to me; they look exactly like the loathsome, throbbing masses of protoplasm that make kayaking in Indian Arm such an unpleasant experience at migration time. Seriously, with those damn paddles it’s like lading up jellyfish soup and watching it slide down the ladle onto your hand, then taking another stroke and ladling up some more on the other side. And the herds, swarms, masses, go on for literally miles.
No wonder people love motorboats: puree!
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raincoaster 