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.
In the Cross-Hairs of History
Well, the proverbial journey of a thousand miles begins.
For the last eleven months, Paganistan has been in the cross-hairs of history. Blocks from where I write this, George Floyd died at the hands of then-policeman Derek Chauvin. The coven met that night; we were dancing for the New Moon in the back yard when it happened.
Since then, the attention of the entire world has been focused on this most pagan of neighborhoods, in this most pagan of cities.
For four nights last May and June, this neighborhood burned. For four nights, the arsonists and looters wreaked havoc here while the authorities dithered and did nothing. We were the bride that they threw to the wolves in order to buy themselves time.
Well, the verdict's finally in, and the jury came through.
The wave of relief washing across the city was almost palpable: a collective exhalation of breath held for nearly a year. Now we take up the tools and set to work. There's much to be done, and change comes from the center.
Welcome to the New Paganistan.
Well folks, it's been the experience of a lifetime, living for almost a year in the cross-hairs of history.
I sure hope never to do it again.
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