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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Local Gods, or: When at Home, Do As the Homos Do

The youngest warlock went to the eldest with a question.

When we go to another place, he said, It is upon us to honor the gods of that place, whether they be our gods or no.

Even so, said the eldest warlock.

And this is from the laws of hospitality, as guest-duty? asked the youngest.

They are the oldest laws of all, said the eldest.

If, then, one should go to the land of the Christians, is it upon us to honor even the god of the Christians? asked the youngest.

It is not, said the eldest.

How then is this not a breach of hospitality? asked the youngest.

In the land of the Christians, you may honor their god or not, as seems good to you, said the eldest. But there is no obligation, nor is hospitality broken by not so doing.

How not? asked the youngest.

Their god is a god of nowhere, said the eldest.

 

Above: "High Place" with row of Standing Stones

Tel Gézer (Israel)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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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