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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Bred in the Bone

 

 

 

It's an age-old question: Why are some people witches, and some not?

Well, I'll tell you. The answer is simultaneously very simple, and utterly outrageous.

We're witches because Old Hornie sires us Himself.

 

A witch once asked her mother if she could remember anything about the circumstances of her conception.

Oh for godssakes, her mother said. How could I possibly—?

Then she paused. When finally she spoke, it was in an undertone, as if to herself.

So that explains it, she said between her teeth.

 

Why are some people witches, and some not?

Witchhood, they say, is bred in the bone. At the moment of our begetting, the Horned, God of Witches, overshadows our fathers. In this way, He raises up a People to Himself in our day.

Like that kid in the book, you see, witches have two daddies.

 

 

Image:

Jos. A. Smith

 

 

 

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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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