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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Reader, Be Told

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

In Which Our Intrepid Blogger Delivers a Warning

 

The old election sign by the side of the road once read

BERNIE

2020

but, bent by the weight of the wet, heavy February snow, it now reads instead

      RNIE

2020  

Naturally, as I drive by, my witch's eye automatically reads

HORNIE

2020


Old Hornie for President? I find myself thinking. F*ck, I'd vote for Him any day of the Moon.

My friend, the Craft will change the way that you see things, change it forever.

Reader, be told.

Last modified on
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.

Comments

  • Kile Martz
    Kile Martz Thursday, 25 February 2021

    The snow, like the truth, has been burying the most stubborn of Trump signs still scattered around our village.

  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch Thursday, 25 February 2021

    Good riddance to bad rubbish.

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