Friday, April 22, 2011
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Friends, donkeys, congressmen, lend me your ears!
I come to bury Poker, not to praise it.
The monster pots of men are oft forgotten;
The bad beats still we feel them in our bones.
So let it be with Poker.
The noble Bharara hath told you that poker was illegal.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Poker answered it.
Here, by leave of Bharara and the rest
(For Bharara is an honorable man,
So are they all, all honorable men)
Come I to speak at poker's funeral.
It was my friend, faithful and just (save razz).
But Bharara says poker was illegal,
an honorable man. . .
The game hath brought us many fish in full
Whose drawing did the general bankrolls fill
Did this in Poker seem illegal?
When the poor have cried, BBT has brought us freerolls.
A shark's game should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Bharara says Poker was illegal,
And Bharara is an honorable man . . .
You all do know how we our brag posts blogged,
Which now will fallow lie -- was this illegal?
Yet Bharara says that Poker was illegal;
And sure, he is an
I speak not to disprove what Bharara spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love It once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then to mourn for It?
O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their home games…. Bear with me;
My heart is yet subpoena'd there with Poker,
And I must pause till it come back to me.