I don’t think a lost OP is a real sin.
Fear not; it is only possible to sin [url="http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?&threadid=136974LEFT grievously
That’ll be ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers. And mail PunditLisa fifty bucks as retribution.
Go in peace.
I am not one to shrink from just punishment. I will make no excuses, nor proffer any mitigating circumstances. It was a base and foul stroke against the very foundations of our civilisation, a civilisation of which I once counted myself a proud member, one which I even defended against those who had committed the very sin of which I now stand guilty. Were I sort to weasel out of my deserved comeuppance, I would tell how I did, on reaching my seat in the cinema, remove my phone from my pocket and switch it off. How I watched the light fade and the screen turn blank. I would then ask you to believe that as I shifted in my seat some cruel caprice of fate led me to inadvertently apply pressure to the power switch. A scarcely credible tale, I agree. If was not prepared to face my punishment like a man, I would try and pin some guilt on he - a good friend, no less - who called me, not merely mid-way through the film, but right in the middle of the pivotal conversation between the hit-man and his son (an aggravating circumstance that means there can truely be no avoiding the full measure of justice). I might throw myself to my knees and beg mercy, pleading that the cursed instrument spoke but twice only before I, shocked and horrified, cut off its baleful ring. But the blame must fall on my shoulders. I do not seek mercy. I do not seek forgiveness. Stand me in a hollow square and break my sword before me. I shall leave the ranks of those who tut. No longer will I shake my head as a digital cacophony pierces the hush of the rapt audience. Never more shall I pass comment on those who are too stupid to just turn off their goddam phone, for I am of their number. I shall pass from you, a wan and shattered shadow of a man, and this shall be my epitaph: “He, too, failed.”
For your sins, you shall be pelted with dead hamsters. Fortunately, we have an ample supply.
tut, tut, tut
When into theatres dark and groovy
You go to watch a grown-up movie
Lock the keypad, it’s not so hard
Or leave your cell in the fucking car!
Yes, I said it, and meant it too.
For while the thought may frighten you,
It’s quite okay to be without
your portable teat through which you spout
Inanities, frivolities, gossip and dreck
With only the tiniest littlest speck
Of truly urgent or pressing matters,
that couldn’t wait, that weren’t just patter.
So leave it behind, go out, be free!
Walk around knowing “No one can reach me!”
See that the world doesn’t go straight to hell
Without your oh so crucial cell.
[sub]Great post, amrussel, made me smile on a rainy day. 
It even got me feeling all poetical–but 'tis all in jest, I swear. ::crossing fingers behind my back:: [/sub]
bella