Every week, the chthonic depths of the briny wine dark deep yet again give birth to another ToM Cthulhu Cthursday. This photograph shows some decidedly early 90's looking goths (or maybe they're just horror dorks — I don't really recall the collective goth fashionological consciousness from 20 years ago) gathered around The Tree That Feeds On Him, "him" in this case being the feculent corpse of Mr. Lovecraft himself.
As one of the goths wrote in to Boing Boing:
What a travesty. Someone should have painted the tree green and covered it with offal, as if it were the maw of the Great Elder God writhing its tentacles up from deep underneath the earth, trying to swallow the soul of its greatest acolyte.
The Tree That Feeds On Him [Panix.com]
