EppsNet Archive: Witches

Arguments of the Faith

1 Apr 2017 /
Burning of the Heretics (Auto-da-fé)

Burning of the Heretics (Auto-da-fé)

For six centuries and in several countries, the Holy Inquisition punished rebels, heretics, witches, homosexuals, pagans . . .

Many ended up at the stake, sentenced to roast over a slow fire fed with green wood. Many more were subjected to torture. Here are some of the instruments used to extract confessions, modify beliefs, and sow panic:

the barbed collar,
the hanging cage,
the iron gag that stifled unwanted screams,
the saw that cut you slowly in two,
the finger-stretching tourniquet,
the head-flattening tourniquet,
the bone-breaking pendulum,
the seat of pins,
the long needle that perforated the devil’s moles,
the iron claw that shredded flesh,
the pincer and tongs heated to fiery red,
the sarcophagus lined with sharp nails,
the iron bed that extended until arms and legs got pulled out of their sockets,
the whip with a nail or knife a the tip,
the barrel filled with shit,
the shackles, the stocks, the block, the pillory, the gaff,
the ball that swelled and tore the mouths of heretics, the anuses of homosexuals, and the vaginas of Satan’s lovers,
the pincer that ground up the tits of witches and adulterers,
and fire on the feet,
among other weapons of virtue.

— Eduardo Galeano, Mirrors

As Bad as the Real Obama

1 Nov 2014 /

Obama mask

We had a big batch of trick-or-treaters show up at one time last night, about 9 kids age 12 and under.

“Who are you?” I asked the first kid.

“The Hulk.” I gave him some candy.

“Who are you?” I asked the second kid.

“Thor.” I gave him some candy.

“Who are you?” I asked the third kid.

“Obama.” He showed me a wadded-up Obama mask in his hand. I didn’t give him any candy.

“Put the mask on,” I said.

“I don’t want to. I can’t see.”

Meanwhile, the other kids kept coming to the front and announcing their costumes . . .

“Superman.” “Batgirl.” “Pink lady from Grease.” “I’m John Cena.” “Witch.” “Minnie.” They all got candy.

Finally no one was left but me and Obama.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Obama!”

“Put the mask on.”

“Come on!”

“You’re not doing your job. Geez, you’re as bad as the real Obama.”