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.
Thunder Likes Guys
Reader alert: Sexual content
What is it about gay sex and thunderstorms?
Daniel and I had been having a particularly athletic bout one afternoon when, just at climax, there came a bone-rattling clap of thunder, and the rain suddenly began to roar down.
“We did that,” Daniel said, chin-pointing outside.
Son of unbelief that I am, it was hard to doubt that he was right.
I was reminded of this experience recently when I heard a similar tale from a friend.
Ask any gay guy. Among the brothers, there's pretty much unspoken agreement that experience suggests some sort of connection between the two.
Now, why it should be gay sex and thunderstorms, as distinguished from non-gay sex and thunderstorms, I couldn't tell you, not having had much experience when it comes to the latter myself. (Call me homonormative; see if I care.) Certainly, as a local Wiccan priest who is himself gay has observed, with male-male sex there are more likely to be, shall we say, liquids flying around. So maybe it's a matter of sympathetic magic.
Thunder, of course, is well-known to be the most virile of gods, voracious of appetite when it comes to food and liquor, women and men. Statistically we can say that eight out of ten people struck by lightning in the US are men. Make of that what you will.
Me, I'd say that Thunder likes guys, just as the stories have always said. Being of such copious ejaculatory capacity himself, it makes good sense that the male libation, in its various forms, should be pleasing to him.
So next time you're experiencing drought in your area, you may well want to consider calling in the brothers.
Chances are, they may be able to help.
Above: Mike Deodato, The Mighty Thor
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I've been hearing about drought in the American Southwest for it seems like a decade now, and I read a Time magazine article about drought in Australia. Now the grumpy guy in my imagination is complaining that the gay guys aren't pulling their spiritual weight by not doing any rain dances. The reasonable part of my imagination points out that nobody has a record of what spiritual work gay guys are responsible for, but the grumpy guy brushes that off with a "don't bother me with details" attitude.