and as a final note: we are the elder things of the df universe. once dorfs are gone. our megaprojects will be the shoggoths that the humans find buried deep in the antartic
THAT, right there, is what undermines the DF-Lovecraft comparison, however.
Again, as the Extra Credits video really tries to drill into, the main problem with Cthulhu in games is that to make Lovecraft work,
the player must be powerless, ignorant, and inconsequential. In DF,
none of those things are true.
This is one of those problems of people losing the forest for the trees.
The monsters (trees) are not important in Lovecraft, which is why they're usually undescribed, as any description would merely detract from their purpose. As the tabletop RPG mantra goes, "If it has stats, you can kill it." To combat this, games like Vampire: The Masquerade made the characters that are supposed to be larger and more powerful than your characters simply
not have stats so they couldn't be killed. (Some characters had a description of their combat abilities simply saying "If the players fight him, they lose".)
The terror in Lovecraft always came from the fact that the viewpoint characters were completely powerless (which was the forest). The monsters merely existed to create some sense of urgency about this. It's not that they are inevitably going to die. (EVERYONE inevitably dies...) It's that their life and death was absolutely inconsequential.
By contrast, one of the core purposes of DF is in creating the chance for the world to build around the changes that you make in it. DF is fundamentally an empowering game, and that goes against the fundamental tenet of Lovecraftian horror.
As I said in the Extra Credits forums in response to that video at the time, Cthulhu, like all horror monsters, is a metaphor, and Cthulhu is a more modern monster than a vampire, and represents more modern fears.
Past the Industrial Revolution, people were forcibly moved out of their rural village lives where they not only knew everyone, but were likely extended family with everyone. In those villages, their place and their importance in life were always tangibly knowable through their social relations. In the modern cities that were springing up, however, the individual very likely did not have a familial relation to the powers that ran that city. (And those that did were often jealously guarding and exploiting that advantage.) You were anonymous to the city as a whole. Before unions, there was no workplace safety, and an injured worker was simply fired and a new schmuck was hired to replace him. They hired children to work the machines because they had smaller hands to reach into the machines with, and you could pay them less, and they were easier to find in abundance when you inevitably "fed the machine" one more child corpse.
Cthulhu is not some alien from the outside, Cthulhu is the personification of industrialization, and the inherent dehumanization and anonymization that went along with it. Cthulhu is The Great War or World War 2 where villagers of small towns suddenly found world powers with giant metal monstrosities of war fighting over their village's land for reasons they didn't understand. Cthulhu is the bureaucracy that does not care about the lives of the people it is supposed to serve, so long as they fulfill their own arcane internal quotas and performance standards. Cthulhu is a corporation buying the local governmental elections such that they no longer care about the wellbeing of the community, but only the corporation's bottom line. Cthulhu is the world's economy collapsing in the blink of an eye because of some computer programs that some bankers set up made all the money disappear in some algorithm so complex, even they don't understand what they're doing.
Cthulhu is, in its most basic form, human society becoming inhuman, and the rules of human society being driven by forces humans can't compete with or even comprehend. It's the fear that the one thing we depend upon for all our power as a species, our capacity to organize into complex societies and pool our individual strengths to accomplish more together than we could alone, into a weapon against ourselves.
This isn't divorced from DF by any means, however. DF largely borrows from Lord of the Rings, which borrows from The Ring of Nibelung, which itself is about the social strife generated by the Industrial Revolution. Hence, it has the same roots. DF, however, is derived from the far more heroic traditions of combatting these fears head-on in giant good-versus-evil conflicts where The Common Man (say, a simple country hobbit or at least a noble hero like Siegfried) can stand up to The Gods.
Again, if you can in any way hurt Cthulhu with a legendary fork thrower, you're talking Nyarlko, not Lovecraft. Because Nyarlko is about kids with superpowers having an impact on the world, while Lovecraft is about how you're a completely expendable ant in an antfarm. Yes, that may be how players MIGHT treat an individual dwarf in fort mode, but the players
aren't those individual dwarves, and when they play Adventurer Mode, they're Heroes (TM) that can single-handedly raid goblin towers, slay demons, steal the secrets of life and death, raise an army of undead to fight for them, or murder a whole vault full of angels and steal their stuff.
If the player has the capacity to
become Cthulhu, you're not playing Lovecraft, you're playing Nyarlko.