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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Yule Goat

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

The ethnic Santas stood together on the shelf.

Scottish Santa in a kilt. French Santa avec béret. American Santa in red, white, and blue.

And the goat.

The white goat with panniers of colorful presents at his sides.

“So,” I say to the clerk, already knowing the answer, “What's with the goat?”

She shrugs.

“Oh, that's the Swedish Santa Claus,” she says.

Well, one could put it that way.

The Yule-Buck has brought gifts to Scandinavian children for nobody knows how long. The Goat that Gives Gifts.

Any witch could tell you Who That is.

And being Who He is, of course, He's Master of Beasts, the God of Animals.

Who visits your house on Midwinter's Eve. Which, as I'm sure you already know, is the night on which, just at midnight—by which, of course, we mean solar midnight, not clock midnight—your domestic animals can speak.

And He'll certainly ask them how they've been treated through the course of the past year.

So remember that next time the dog messes on the floor.

May the Yule Buck be good to you this year.

And Santa?

Shrug.

He's the cowanish Yule-Buck.

 

 

 

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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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