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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The Sabbat-Field of the Buck

Gods, pagans.

Some of us are polytheists, some bitheists. Among our people, we may also variously number monotheists, monists, atheists, polyatheists, and agnostics as well.

We see here the brilliance of the paganisms, the genius of definition by praxis, not belief.

When, later this summer, the Midwest Tribe of Witches foregathers in our immemorial Grand Sabbat, chances are that what we do there may well mean something different to every single one of us.

And there we'll be anyway—theist with atheist, gnostic and agnostic alike—joining once again in the eternal dance on the Sabbat-Field of the Buck.

Really, it doesn't matter what you believe.

Just come Do.

 

 

 

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Tagged in: belief praxis unbelief
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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