Here's a thought experiment for those who don't see the evil hand of racial contempt in the move to put gambling in the Hill District.

Close your eyes. Now imagine: after a period of "public input" and "debate," the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board was one week away from making a decision to put slots either in Fox Chapel, Upper St. Clair or Sewickley Heights.

If you can imagine it, you have a better imagination than I do. Outside of the realm of science fiction or magic realism, there's no scenario in which a conversation about dropping a casino in one of those communities could be seriously entertained.

The only way it would happen is if the affluent residents of those communities went to bed lily white, but somehow woke up blacker than Godfrey Cambridge in "Watermelon Man."

When it comes to the possibility of placing a casino on the Hill, the question is one of economic expediency, not the immorality of such a project.

In Harrisburg, there's all sorts of talk about mitigating the problems that will arise from placing a gambling den in the bosom of a residential community, but very little attention paid to the terrible human cost of the enterprise.

It's all about revenue enhancement, building a new arena and shrinking property taxes for communities that wouldn't put up with such farcical reasons for being exploited for even a second.

Consequently, the oddest things are spoken of as incentives to dull the pain of having the moral fiber of the Hill District completely undermined:

The Isle of Capri has pledged $290 million toward a new arena to showcase an ailing hockey franchise. Another $1 million a year will be socked away in a community investment fund aimed at -- what?--making the Hill District a more attractive place for middle class citizens?

The Isle of Capri also promises to redevelop the Lower Hill to the tune of $350 million. Really? What do the folks of the Hill have to look forward to for what will be many decades of pain and suffering? A chintzy little supermarket? Another tiny strip mall or two? State-of-the-art parking lots where prostitutes can ply their trade?

What about fully-funded high-tech vocational schools? Will heavily staffed drug, alcohol and gambling rehabilitation centers be on the drawing board? Is there room for a modest new jail to accommodate the losers that will fall through the cracks?

Two other entities want to build a casino in Pittsburgh and have tried to sweeten their offers.

Forest City Enterprises is teaming with Harrah's Entertainment on a proposed Station Square casino, and PITG Gaming LLC, headed by Detroit businessman Don Barden, wants to build a casino on the North Shore, near the Carnegie Science Center.

Forest City has pledged a $25 million endowment to Pittsburgh History & Landmarks Foundation for neighborhood development and $1 million a year toward a community investment fund headed by Steeler Hall of Famer Franco Harris.

PITG also promises $350 million of economic enhancements for a neighborhood that has yet to see its fortunes recover from the urban renewal schemes of the 1950s.

Both PITG and Forest City have said agreed to pay $7.5 million a year for 30 years to under Plan B, a backup plan for a new arena should Isle of Carpi fail to win the slots license.

While waiting for its face lift, the Hill will undergo all the changes that accrue to a neighborhood once it becomes a region's moral dumping ground.

Let's be clear about this. There isn't a casino in the world that respects the people who lose money keeping it profitable or the community that accommodates it for the sake of short-term economic benefit.

Like a cruel dominatrix at an upscale whorehouse, casinos depend on a steady stream of customers willing to pay dearly for the privilege of being humiliated.

I understand that the political bosses in Harrisburg tend to be on the amoral and mercenary side of every "revenue enhancement" scheme, but why is the Rev. James Simms on board with the Isle of Capri's development proposal?

Rev. Simms fronts a Isle of Capri advocacy group cynically called Pittsburgh First. The group's name alone is enough to send folks running to Orwell's "1984" for equally disingenuous precedents.

So why would a prominent member of Pittsburgh's black clergy go along with a scheme to sanction state-sponsored gambling in a neighborhood that already lags behind most others in its quality of life?

Rev. Simms pegs the support for gambling in the Hill by the residents of Allegheny County at 70 percent. I wonder if any of that support for gambling in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Western Pennsylvania has anything to do with the "not-in-my-backyard" phenomenon?

According to Rev. Simms, 12 "prominent" Uptown and Hill District residents sit on the board of Pittsburgh First, giving it an air of democratic respectability without actually having to resort to anything as disreputable as generating grass roots support.

The Hill District has always had trouble sifting out its criminals, scam artists, thieves and moral predators, but Rev. Simms' naked appeal to greed and exploitation to "save" the community is remarkable in its banality and agnosticism.

Why is a preacher heading a so-called economic empowerment group heavily invested in gambling, anyway? Is the Isle of Capri also interested in promoting the moral and spiritual well-being of the Hill District residents along with separating as many suckers as possible from their money?

A gambling interest that doesn't have contempt for its customers is about as rare as an evil man who can walk on water, but don't tell the good reverend that.

Rev. Simms wants desperately to believe that the gambling establishment's sole reason for desiring to operate in the Hill is to create jobs to the 3,000 residents who allegedly signed a petition supporting Isle of Capri's license application. How long will it take until the Hill is transformed into the utopia promised in the propaganda?

Writing in the "Pittsburgh First News," a flier that blatantly shills for the Isle of Capri, Rev. Simms wrote:

"Pittsburgh First was formed to provide input and assistance to a group that wants to revitalize our neighborhood by bringing jobs and economic growth that will benefit all of us. That's the real issue here -- and we can't afford to lose sight of it."

Rev. Simms has allies in high places, most notably City Councilwoman Tonya Payne and County Councilman Bill Robinson. How he got two politicians whose constituents have the most to lose to go along with an industry that sucks blood out of a community like a vampire is a testament to his powers of persuasion.

Fortunately, Rev. Simms is not the only minister speaking out on the issue of gambling on the Hill. In fact, he's outnumbered by Hill District clergy who have been in the forefront of civil rights advocacy for years and the casino fight from the beginning.

The Hill District Ministers are part of a coalition of clergy, faith-based groups, social service agencies, politicians and ordinary citizens who know a con when they see one.

They've been working together for nearly a year, studying and clarifying the issues at stake for a community that, once again, is ripe for exploitation.

Calling itself the Hill District Gaming Task Force, the group is composed of many voices; still, it has been consistently united in opposition to the short-sighted schemes of Pittsburgh First and its high-rolling sponsor, the Isle of Capri.

The Hill District Gaming Task Force is at a crucial point in its opposition to gambling on the Hill. On Dec. 20th, the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Commission will award a gaming license to one of three competitors.

A casino would transform the face of the Hill in a way that no other self-respecting community would ever accept.

This should be troubling to anyone who cares about economic justice and human dignity. A community's advancement shouldn't depend on the roll of the dice.

Lower property taxes shouldn't come at the expense of the moral integrity of a neighborhood or the deluded people who believe they can beat the house at its own game.