The Only Thing We Can Do About Lovecraft, Racism, and the World Fantasy Award Statue
That David Duke-worthy ass-canker was written by my favorite author, the same man who revealed to me the mysteries of dreaming Cthulhu, the machinations of the Fungi from Yuggoth, the unholy prophecies of the Necronomicon, the ravenous and unidentifiable “colour” out of space. He changed my world irrevocably.
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