The word from Saratoga Springs is that the first Pataki casino opened big on Wednesday, drawing more than 10,000 visitors who wagered $2.5 million. This news may warm the hearts of Albany politicians, who are counting on such establishments to fuel their spending sprees. We count it as a dark day.

It’s bad enough that the state of New York cons its citizens out of billions of dollars a year through ordinary lottery games. Assaulting them with armies of slot machines — known officially and euphemistically as “video gaming machines” — is going too far.

Governor Pataki and the Legislature authorized the deployment of these no-armed bandits in October 2001, at the same time that they approved the establishment of six new Indian-run casinos in western New York and the Catskills. They used the post-September 11 financial crisis as their excuse, knowing full well that the ill-gotten revenue was unlikely to flow until years later.

Now that the bettors’ losses are finally racking up, Mr. Pataki has adopted a new but equally cynical justification — satisfying the court order that the elected officials insist requires the state to throw more money at the problems in our public schools. He proposes to double the number of authorized parlors to 16, including as many as five in New York City, and then amass the proceeds of ignorance into a “Sound Basic Education Fund.” which would make matching grants to New York City and other struggling districts.

We join Mayor Bloomberg and others in questioning whether these gambling devices will actually deliver the promised billions. Of the $2.5 million pumped into the 13,323 virtual slots at the Saratoga harness track last Wednesday, for example, only about $134,000 will go to education. The bulk was redistributed to “winners,” and another $219,000 was set aside to subsidize the track and the horsemen who race there.

We could point out that a credible lawsuit by casino opponents, including Senator Padavan, contends that the machines violate a constitutional ban on slot machines, their sponsorship by the state’s Lottery Division notwithstanding. We could raise concerns about the unfortunate fellow New Yorkers who will gamble compulsively, wasting time and money that would be better spent on their families, their own educations, or almost anything else but slot machines.

But we also quarrel with the creation of yet another government monopoly. The state is arrogating to itself and a few Indian tribes the sole authority to operate casinos, while assuring that they will face no in-state competition from private entrepreneurs — a certain recipe for inefficiency, cronyism, and corruption.

Proponents of video slots argue that the state’s ban on commercial gambling — or what’s left of it — is an exercise in futility, since New Yorkers already have easy access to casinos at Atlantic City, Connecticut, and Canada, not to mention the Indian-run facilities within the state. They argue that New York should try to keep some of those gambling dollars, and the jobs that go with them, for itself.

Maybe so. But rather than open yet another loophole in the casino ban, why not amend the constitution to repeal it entirely? If a competent adult chooses to entertain himself at a slot machine or blackjack table, the libertarian in us sees no good reason for the state to stand in the way. The state should treat gambling the way it does other vices, such as tobacco and alcohol — something for government to regulate and tax, within reason, but not to promote.