The Other McCain

"One should either write ruthlessly what one believes to be the truth, or else shut up." — Arthur Koestler

The Protocols of the Elders of CTHULHU XVI. The Ivory Tower

Posted on | February 18, 2010 | Comments Off on The Protocols of the Elders of CTHULHU XVI. The Ivory Tower


There was a legal pad and pen in front of me, there at the corner of the table away from the window and the head. Apparently I was the recorder for the meeting. Yes, I’d been a stenographer.

Before that second light bulb, or anyone else for that matter, died, the speaker paused a moment. He surveyed the room; the squid on the table; the eleven remaining movers and shakers of the world shivering in shock, misery and horror at the magnitude of the plan unfolding.
The scope of the global destruction that the protocols had already sketched, combined with their personal agony at being present to hear it all, not to mention that these were not young men and women anymore, had them at their breaking point.
“This portion of the discussion is going to offend some, perhaps. Universities are one thread common to you all.” And with that, he re-launched, until interrupted by an entrace.

“In order to effect the destruction of all collective forces except ours we shall emasculate the first stage of collectivism–the universities. Their officials and professorrs will be prepared for their business by detailed secret programmes of action from which they will not with immunity diverge, not by one iota.

The universities must no longer send out from their halls milksops concocting plans for a constitution, like a comedy or a tragedy, busing themselves with questions of policy in which even their own fathers never had any power of thought.

We shall erase from the memory of men all facts of previous centuries which are undesirable to us, and leave only those which depict call the errors of the governments…”
preceding our own.

In a word, knowing by the experience of many centuries that people live and are guided by ideas, that these ideas are imbibed by people only by the aid of education provided with equal success for all ages of growth, but of course by varying methods, we shall swallow up and confiscate to our own use the last scintilla of independence of thought…”

As the word ‘thought’ faded from the ear, the door opened again, and a silver charger bearing the head of a man, wild-eyed in death, carried by another hooded functionary. The new functionary halted and stood at attention.
The speaker acknowledged him: “So, you are the one who decided to promote himself. An excellent ploy, except from the standpoint of your predecessor. Set him down, and pick up the Master, who now wills to be moved.”
And the functionary did, leaving the head at the head of the stable, staring down at 11 people silently wishing it was all not happening. The squid may have been rippling with laughter at them, or it was the functionary silently picking up the tray under the fishbowl.
In any case, it was by now twice the size it had been merely an hour ago.



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