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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Why Witches Have No Church

 A Tale of the Driftless Witches

Once upon a time, witches used to have a church of their own, just like everyone else.

Well, maybe not just like everyone else.

The witches' church, you see, was made out of cheese.

One year there was a terrible famine. When the witches ran out of food, they ate up their church, and in this way managed to survive.


But ever since then, we've worshiped in the woods instead.

Well, that's how I heard it.



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Tagged in: Driftless
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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