Much has been written about the morality of using torture as a tool of American counterterrorism. This week, we learned that two al-Qaida detainees were waterboarded 266 times between them.

Those inclined to give the Bush administration a pass point to the terror we felt in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks as the only justification needed for abandoning morality and replacing it with patriotic lip service.

Liberals, the tribe of which I am a card-carrying member, argue that "enhanced interrogation" -- or whatever the latest euphemism for torture is -- has undermined our national security interests in the long run. For one, it doesn't really work; it creates false confessions and twisted intelligence. For another, it puts our own warriors at risk: If captured, they're more likely to be tortured in retribution.

But above all, torture is fundamentally immoral. Fear has driven us to betray our highest values.

As usual, it was left to Jon Stewart and the writers of "The Daily Show" to bring up an absurd but true element -- the United States is not only guilty of torture, we've proven ourselves supremely inept at it.

"Do you really have to waterboard somebody 183 times? Doesn't the efficacy go down?" Jon Stewart asked in mock exasperation this week. "I assume after 90 waterboardings, the guy's thinking: 'You're not really drowning me.' "

Once again, it was left to a fake news anchor to expose the utter goofiness of torture for intelligence-gathering.

Assuming U.S intelligence wasn't in the habit of torturing terror suspects before 9/11, how did our CIA know what was effective and what wasn't when it came to "enhanced interrogation"? Did we ask our allies? They claim that they don't torture. Did we ask our enemies? They claim they don't torture, either. Perhaps we consulted a "Torture for Dummies" book. It would explain a lot.

An especially surreal episode from "Monty Python's Flying Circus" has been on my mind: "The Spanish Inquisition."

In one of the recurring sketches, a man is arguing a mundane point with a woman. He complains, "I didn't expect a Spanish Inquisition." Suddenly, there is thunder, followed by three men in scarlet robes who rush into their living room. "Nobodyexpects the Spanish Inquisition!" the leader of the Spanish Inquisition shouts.

The startled woman is taken into custody. Commencing the torture, the leader calls for "the rack." A dish-drying rack is tied to her bosom.

Minutes later, the inquisitors are "torturing" an old woman by forcing her to sit in a comfy chair after poking her with pillows. Their intent is malevolent, but they're out of practice and don't know what they're doing.

Waterboarding someone 183 times would be something they would do.

It is no longer debatable whether the United States committed torture -- ineptly or not. Too many documents describing its implementation have been released. Too many memos written by Bush administration lawyers justifying its use have been declassified or exposed by news media.

The dust of pulverized flesh, bones and buildings blowing in from Ground Zero caused many of us to lose our resolve to be better than the regimes we used to criticize for human rights abuses, including torture.

There was a time when we could wave our red, white and blue finger in the faces of repressive regimes in Myanmar, Zimbabwe, Egypt, Malaysia and Saudi Arabia without fainting from cognitive dissonance.

Something happened during the Bush years to cause a shift. It wasn't something we consciously struggled for or against. There was never a referendum on the ballot that explicitly asked us to approve reprehensible acts undertaken in our name.

Too many Americans simply acquired the habit of never questioning authority. Too many of us preferred not to imagine what Dick Cheney and his comrades were doing in that morality-free zone he's called "the dark side." We're only now beginning to ask what happened in our name.

They say that those who undergo torture on a regular basis learn to shut down parts of their brain so that they're able to "forget" much of the experience. The alternative is to go mad from terror and anxiety. Maybe a similar thing happens to people in a democracy who abdicate their responsibility when evil is happening in their name.

It's true that nobody ever expects the Spanish Inquisition -- especially when it turns out that the Spanish Inquisition is us.