Talk:Izumi Akazawa/@comment-6052796-20140913190950/@comment-397235-20140918013909

Of course, the Lovecraftian school of thought I subscribe to for death in this context is that it's so vast, unfathomable, and incomprehensible you can't fight it; the best you can hope for is for it to leave you alone.

There's a scene in Godzilla vs. Mothra (1992), which is, if you're curious, a terrible film, which fits here. Earlier, Godzilla and one of the other monsters are fighting in the Pacific when an undersea fissure opens and swallows them up. It's assumed Godzilla was killed here (despite having survived being trapped in a volcano for four years back in the 80s).

Well, surprise, a few weeks later another volcano in the Home Islands erupts and guess who decides to come strolling out? Two Japanese geologists have been studying the mountain for a while and watch Godzilla's emergence. The junior man, in true B-movie fashion, summarizes everything we, the audience, has already seen, before questioning how Godzilla is still alive. (Honestly, the characters in the film are significantly more surprised by this than the audience, who've seen this before; to answer his question, Toho wrote the film that way, as Godzilla in this film in particular, and the films between 1984 and 1995 in general was less a character than a plot convenience, hence his ability to show up anywhere with little to no explanation.)

Anyway, the senior scientist lowers his camera, looks at his subordinate, and says "This is beyond our present knowledge or understanding."

That, in a nutshell, is an Eldritch Abomination. I also refer to Clark's Third Law here.