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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Daughter of Two Fathers

It must be the oldest gay joke in the world.

Q: Is it possible for two men to have a baby together?

A: Theoretically no, but they sure do keep trying!

But for gods, now: well, that's another matter.

***

Earth's two Husbands, Sun and Thunder, have been together (so far as we know) nearly forever. You could say they're an unlikely couple. You could say they're well matched. Whichever it be, they're very different from one another.

Sun is hot and dry. He comes from the east, and he's always going west. Steady, predictable, he's all about the rational.

Thunder, now? Cool, wet, comes from the west, always going east. Volatile, unpredictable: with him, it's all about emotion.

Theirs is an explosive relationship: with all their differences, how could it not be? Oh, the fights. But, in the end, they always make it up.

They have a daughter together, born of their love: Rainbow, gentlest of goddesses. To see her is to love her, she's that beautiful.

In these latter days, they've named her the patron of same-sex love. Well, how could she not be?

After all, she has two fathers.

***

These days, Twin Cities Pride is a matter of corporate sponsorship and hundreds of thousands, but back then it was just a few hundred of us, marching down Hennepin Avenue.

One year, as we marched, the heavens opened up. Thunder, lightning, rain pelting down. We kept on nonetheless, undeterred, moving towards our planned destination.

The squall didn't last long. (How's that for a metaphor?) As we entered Loring Park, sodden but unstoppable, the cheers began to ring out. It was an omen anyone could read.

Gracefully spanning the horizon over our rallying place: who else but the Rainbow Goddess, Daughter of Two Fathers?

 

50 Years of Pride.

Congratulations, folks:

We've come a long, hard way.

 

 

 

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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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