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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In Which Our Intrepid Blogger Sees the Summer's First Bare-Breasted Bicyclist, or: The Minoanization of America

Saw my first topless female bicyclist today.

Now that's brave, I thought.

The Minneapolis authorities finally made the way-too-long-in-coming decision this summer to stop citing women without shirts in public. Time and high time, of course. Cowans and their weird body-shame: I'll never understand it.

Still, Portland and 25th isn't exactly the friendliest or, shall we say, most enlightened part of town.

I wanted to do something to show my support, but really, what is there that you can do in such a situation that won't come across as a**hole-ism? Sometimes the most supportive that thing you can do is nothing at all.

Well, blessings on the topless bicyclists of the world: one more step, if only a small one, toward the Way Things Ought to Be. Call it Minoanization.

Besides: me, I'm a man for men.

Deep down, I was really hoping for a guy.



The "Boston Goddess"

Ivory and gold foil

Reputedly Minoan, probably circa 1905




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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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