Lovecrafts prosa avspeglar humöret och vad sägs om följande passager:

"When I drew near the nameless city I knew it was accursed. I was travelling in a parched and terrible valley under the moon, and afar I saw it protruding uncannily above the sands as part of a corpse may protrude from an ill-made grave."

"Then, as I playfully shook him and turned him around, I felt the strangling tendrils of a cancerous horror whose roots reached into illimitable pasts and fathomless abysms of the night that broods beyond time. For Arthur Munroe was dead. And on what remained of his chewed and gouged head there was no longer a face."

Mästerligt! Även om det förstås blir bättre i sitt sammanhang....

Något positivt: Köpte en massa filmer på den eminenta (notera sarkasmen) tillställningen Cityfesten idag: För sammantaget 200 riksdaler fick jag: 

Hayao Miyazakis Det Levande Slottet

The Libertine med Depp

Traffic

Superman Returns

The Night Listener

och absolut inte minst: Hela andra säsongen av Little Britain.

Värt!