The H.P. Podcraft.com.

H.Podcraft. That girl. Myth or otherwise, the sculptures told of the coming of those star-headed things to the nascent

lifeless earth out of cosmic space. Their coming and the coming of many other alien entities,

such as at certain times, embark upon spatial pioneering. They seemed able to traverse the interstellar ether on their vast membranous wings, thus oddly confirming some curious hill folklore long ago told me by an Antiquarian colleague.

They had lived under the sea a good deal, building fantastic cities and fighting terrific

battles with nameless adversaries by means of intricate devices employing unknown principles of energy.

Evidently, their scientific and mechanical knowledge far surpassed Mans today, though they

made use of its more widespread and elaborate forms only when obliged to.

Some of the sculptures suggested that they had passed through a stage of mechanized life

on other planets, but had receded upon finding its effects emotionally unsatisfying.

Their pretty natural toughness made them able to live on a high plane without the more specialized

fruits of artificial manufacture

and even without garments except for occasional protection against the elements.

Ladies and gentlemen, that is H.P. Lovecraft, the nudist. No, no, no, Chad.

That is the first paragraph of Chapter 7 of At the Mountains of

Madness by H.P. Lovecraft.

Oh, okay, sorry about that.

It did seem like some kind of advocacy for Lovecraft. Oh, okay, sorry about that.

It did seem like some kind of advocacy for nudism.

Um, no.

I want to know who you are and what you're, what you're doing here.

My name is Chad Fyfer.

...