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.
Great-Rite-a-Thon
A beloved and well-respected community elder fell gravely ill.
Word went around that at such-and-so a time on such-and-so a day, people were to enact the Great Rite on his behalf.
And so it was.
Uncle Wolf died peacefully not long thereafter, knowing that dozens of people had been making love because of him.
“Gods, I love this religion,” he said.
Above: Sacre du Printemps, Béjart choreography
Ballet Lausanne
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