This is a cult for all of you who love the work of our favorite depressed-and-depressing psychological and philosophical horror writing machine: Edgar Allan Poe.

This cult is devoted to the promotion, analysis, and discussion of his works as well as the man himself. Psychoanalysis encouraged!

The goal of this cult is to ally ourselves with other cults who acknowledge his awesomeness or lay down th' smack on those who would deny his might, whether through cult wars or otherwise. Another goal is to join the Grand Alliance.

Upon joining, please post your favorite Edgar Allan Poe quote.

Feel free to put your rank in your signature, but please also put a quote next to it. 

The ranks are:

High Raven of Poe-ness: ItsNotAChest (One of these)

Supreme Masquerader of Red Death: Goliath7723 Bobthebarb27 WendigoOfLore (Three of these)

Haunter of the Thump-Thump:           (Five of these)

Chat Noir:           (Seven of these)

Goole Bugger: 

Feel free to suggest an additional title for yourself once you reach the Haunter of the Thump-Thump Rank. 

Welcome to the Edgar Allan Poe cult. Once you join I will assign you a rank.

Quote from Goliath7723 >>

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore.”

 Good faith, to thee who deigned fit to copy such a large portion of the poem. You shall be a Supreme Masquerader of Red Death, or if that not fit thy fancy, another title in addition. (I won't talk like this all the time - I promise)

Quote from Goliath7723 >>

I thank you ten thousand times
I am most truly obliged to you for this beautiful title.
I am really more obliged to you for your kindness than I can say.
I cannot thank you for it too cordially, and cannot too earnestly assure you that I shall always prize it highly.
I am most sincerely and affectionately grateful to you, and am full of pleasure and delight.

 Gratitude for this praise and thanksgiving flows from my heart such as words cannot describe - but let us foremost delight in the works of our forefather, Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe Stories As Told in Texts | The SparkNotes Blog 

Inspect these fine works of jest, and cast thine opinion on them

We have a member for each day this cult has existed. 

Huzzah

quoth the raven, nevermore.

Yay, another member!

Bob, you have been granted the title Supreme Masquerader of Red Death

Or another title of your own choosing, if you don't like that

Im joining *slams mug on table*

the black cat by edgar allan poe
   Pluto - this was the cat's name -- was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.

Welcome Wendigo, you have been granted the title Supreme Masquerader of Red Death, or another of your own choosing should you so choose