The classic American horror author H. P. Lovecraft coined the term weird fiction in the 1920s. Even today, in our rational world of wonder, his legacy of cosmic horror slumbers on. Deep in the recesses of our unconscious minds, we suspect it to be the truth that we begin to glance the shape of true reality, and it is not to our liking. Not at all.
Modern science, with its experts and specialties, is a fragmentary thing. In this, it reflects the human mind. We keep our thoughts in boxes, broken into digestible shards. It is safer. Cosmic horror warns us that what we fondly imagine to be reality is just a thin skin of light and substance over endless gulfs of insanity. Gather too much knowledge, make the wrong connections, and the truth can no longer be denied.
The amazing tales lovingly collected in Cthulhu Lies Dreaming are fragments of that truth. Treat them with the caution that they deserve. Each will offer you glimpses behind the skin of the world, leading you closer and closer to the edge of the abyss. Knowledge may bring wisdom, but it also offers far darker gifts to the curious.
The truth is indeed out there and it hungers.