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.
Thirteenth and Stang
Call it unexpected affirmation.
A warlock friend of mine was driving through Ames, Iowa the other day. Amusingly, his route took him along Stange Road.
Locally pronounced stang, Stange (in two syllables) is originally a Norwegian surname; in this case, presumably the name of some City Father of days gone by.
But of course stang is also the name that witches give to the furca or forked pole that represents the Horned God. So you can't help but feel that there's something special—or amusing, at least—about driving down “Stang” Road.
Then he came to the intersection with Thirteenth Street.
“Meet me at the corner of Thirteenth and Stang.” Sounds like a line from a bad Witch novel, probably by some hack like Steve Posch.
Thirteenth and Stang, Ames, Iowa.
Really, there ought to be a standing stone.
For Fane
“...from roaming the land, and wandering about in it.”
Comments
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Monday, 28 September 2020
You're a troublemaker, Anthony, but then, we already knew that.
Good advice, duly taken on board. Stay tuned. -
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Well Steven you've told a lot of stories over the years. Perhaps this is a call to gather the stories and put them in a book. There are worse titles than "Meet me at the Crossroads of Thirteen and Stang." So what stories would you tell a group of young warlocks; gay, straight, bi and trans, about being good neighbors who look after and defend their community?