Of Italian Neorealism and Cthulu

Found this picture of – ahem! – yours truly at age 14 or so, looking appropriately neorealist and post-War Italian.

“You and Robin could be fraternal twins in that picture,” Ben said. “Same face.”

Which, you know, is an odd thought.

Also, went to dinner last night as part of a large and merry group. Yummy food, much hilarity.

Ed and Pat had just gotten back from a trip to Providence, Rhode Island.

“Ah!” said I. “Did you visit H.P. Lovecraft’s house while you were there?”

Ed and Pat looked baffled. “Who’s H.P. Lovecraft?”

“Dean of American Horror Literature? Progenitur of Cthulu?”

“What’s Cthulu?”

“Embodiment of ancient, unspeakable evil? Primal lurker beyond time, beyond space? Octopus face covered with feelers?”

“Would you like to try some of my sushi, Patrizia?” Pat asked. “It’s pretty good. Crab and thinly sliced steak.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been out in mixed company before in which absolutely no one knew who Cthulu was.