Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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Blood Pact

Registrations are coming in for this year's Midwest Grand Sabbat.

(The firelight on the trees. The Stag That Walks On Two Legs, come down from the altar. The frenzied dancing. The love-making in the shadows.)

Yesterday one arrived that had actually been signed in blood.

I tell you, my friend: in the Wide World of Witchdom, there's witches.

And there's witches.

 

 

 

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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

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