

Whatever the intention or edition, however, the book is best remembered for its beautifully engraved illustrations, portraying major figures of the underworld in an array of eerily outlandish forms, like the towering horror above, as disturbing as it is ridiculous. Published in 1818, Collin De Plancy's Dictionnaire Infernal was originally intended to compile demons, devils and fallen angels as mere cultural constructs, until De Plancy's growing Catholic faith lead to the final 1863 revision, now conforming to what he considered factual, authentic Biblical canon - a real life Book of Vile Darkness to be wielded in the fight against evil. So yeah, eat it, Kurek family! I'm going to talk about devils for Halloween today, and all those invisible fiends floating around your heads are going to pop so many boners it won't even be funny.

Of course, any association between my favorite holiday and the forces of hell is historically and culturally baseless in every way, and thus, all the same fanciful folklore as leprechauns, El Chupacabras and hot Martian spy-girls, serving only to fuel our imaginations and kill some time on a planet where the real magical monsters are the single-celled wonders too small for us to see. I grew up next door to one of those families who wouldn't let their children touch anything with a sheet ghost or a witch on it, or, for that matter, watch most cartoons or play with most toys, entirely on the basis that evil, supernatural monsters live under the ground and that dabbling in anything too cool would, I don't know, give them big fat boners or something.
