Madness congealed from beyond the reach of reason to hold a press conference yesterday, the squamous ichors of unknowable things incorporating to distance themselves from the racist remarks of Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

“We’re obviously grateful to Howie for all the work he’s done as a publicist, but can no longer ignore his execrable behavior” intoned C’thulhu, shattering microphones and eardrums with his R’lyhian unspeech. “The actions of the miniscule speck that is humanity are usually far beneath our contempt. But sub-dividing that speck based on hatred of race? Absolutely and always worth contempt, from anyone or anything capable of perceiving it.”

“We Old Ones are committed to flaying your minds for their contents, not the color of your skin.”

Nyarlthotep, flesh of nightmare and mocker of sanity, then took the microphone in a pseudopod coiling dark and strange through unknown dimensions to apologise for taking part in such racist work.

“We were young, mere aoens dark and deep beyond the span of counting, and, like, just waking up. We didn’t really know what I was doing. Those are not excuses. Those are the reasons I worked with someone I should have said no to.”

“We exist in the darkened howling of infinities which would flense the thoughts from your mind should you so much as glance upon them, leaving your being a shallow mockery, a petty void howling in resonance of the vastness that destroyed you. That’s what we do. We don’t write jaunty little poems titled ‘On The Creation of the N-word‘.”

“Jesus” added Nyarlthotep. “‘Creation of the N-word‘.”

The assorted horrors then proceeded to consume utterly all present, though those who said “He was a product of his time!” were seen to be consumed first, twice, and repeatedly in a gory affront to causality and hope.

C’thulhu addressed these objections even as they dissolved. “He was only a product of his time in the same way plutonium is a product of nuclear breeder reactors: he was made possible by what surrounded him, but was denser and far more poisonous.”

NOTE: We would like to thank our associates at FAX news for sharing their reportage. The mere sight of Old Ones destroys all intelligence and reason, rendering every other reporter incapable of words or thought, but the FAX reporter was apparently fine, and already submitting a story connecting the Old Ones to playground ebola terrorism before the conference ended.

Enjoy extended eldritchicity with New Problems From Old Ones: Seafood