To Catch a Thief

Dear Prof. HotWind,

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LONDON – For a priest in northern England, the commandment that dictates "thou shalt not steal" isn't exactly written in stone. The Rev. Tim Jones caused uproar by telling his congregation that it is sometimes acceptable for desperate people to shoplift — as long as they do it at large national chain stores, rather than small, family businesses.

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Apparently, our online bible scholar has a little competition. Talk about drifting from what you hold true, in a sometimes acceptable manner. We all thought George Carlin was just being funny when he said, “Sometimes the church grants dispensation”. Man, he would have a field day this. I would like some insight on the good Reverend’s twenty first century view on the coveting of thy neighbor’s wife.

We need to reset for a moment. The Reverend isn’t throwing out a blessing to would be thieves. His sermon is a reminder that we need to help our brother in his time of need; turn a blind in a manner of speaking. Other religious factions sanction the taking of life in HIS name. We’re only talking about a loaf of bread here, not a beheading. And hi def telis are right out!

Although the Reverend meant well, the phrasing of his thoughts should have been reconsidered. If we really need to hang a priest, we should go after the dirty bastards that like touching little boys.

Puzzled in a pew


Dear Puzzled,

A fine and sensitive treatment of the story my dear friend.

I marvel at a cozy scene where you, still bent over a warm internet keyboard, are visited by the resplendent visage of sweet Wisdom herself, draped in a shimmering irridescent lame' with an open back and plunging neckline. Whose soft council spills like sunlight over the war torn fields of your fatigued philosophy.

"Think of the poor, the tired, the homeless", she purrs, "it is Christmas."
. . and your dick stirs.

"But think also of the victims and their ruined plans, their loss " she whispers, and the soft folds of her loose gown slide over the smooth white skin of her naked shoulder.


You smile weakly, turning your eyes from her fresh licked lips, but find your nose a mere two inches from the deep roundness of her anxious, rolling bosoms, almost begging to be set free . . .
"Remember the story of Lot." she teases, "What manner is a village that simply watches its saddest, most unfortunate die without helping?"

Her hand runs across your hair; at this point you can't possibly stand from your chair without embarrassment . . .

"Remember also" she breathed, "this same village might well perish but for its love of the truth in the Commandments and the law."

At this point a small, bare foot steals out from the garments trailing hem.

"So small, so perfect." you think to yourself as you stare helplessly at the tiny toes which slowly brush, seductive yet somehow indifferently across your leg.

"But we can't just go around, having our priests tell the people that its plum all right to go around stealing tits from Wallmart ! ! ! . " you shout, . . . . at which point you freeze having realized the slip of the tongue.
"I mean 'shit'; that's 'shit from Wallmart' " you explain.

If your priest can only find the right rhetoric, I'll bet we can anticipate a future where some judge releases a poor, desperate homeless man who was arrested by a friendly cop who answered a 911 call from Wallmart who eventually gave the wretch a scarf they caught him trying to steal. Every one is happy, every one feels good about helping the poor; everyone feels good about obeying the law.

Now how are you going to "adjust" your metrics of morality and tear a piece off Wisdom?