andyfox
06-30-2005, 12:17 AM
Of all the Poker Gods, The God of Protection is the most powerful. To wit:
The God of Protection and His Left Hand Man were at Ye Olde Bicycle Club. Playing cards. Now Mr. Einstein opined, in reference to another, more weighty matter, that God did not play dice, but he said nary a thing about poker. The God of Protection does play poker. For money.
On one occasion, the God of Protection found Himself in the big blind. The Reader was in the small blind. Two mere mortals limped and The Reader called. The God of Protection had K-To and checked. Now one would think a God should be able to give Himself pocket aces at will, but that would make things too easy and cause the multitude to gossip and snipe and whine about Him. Better to have K-T and keep them guessing. Best not to arouse the rabble too greatly. Oh, maybe He’ll abscond with a few jackpots here and there, but elsewise He plays it pretty close to His vestment.
And the flop came K-J-J. The small blind, knowing not what he was in for, bet out. Boldly, provocatively, defiantly. And as the God of Protection was raising, He said, as is His wont, “Here, my little snowflake, my gullible friend, my ignorant compatriot, my waiflike amateur: I am going to give you PROTECTION.”
And so it was.
Yea, the two limpers folded. And the God of Protection, and His Left Hand Man, saw that it was good. And the small blind looked at The God of Protection in dismay, and in disdain, and in disgust, and, mucking and exposing his pitiful pocket deuces, exclaimed, “And who, sir, asked you for protection?”
An extraordinarily apt and comical and well-considered line delivered with perfect timing and grace and aplomb.
Yet he had insulted and dishonored and sullied the God of Protection. And this made Him, and his Left Hand Man, angry and sullen and vengeful. And they vowed, silently, resolutely, definitively, to wreak havoc on the blasphemer, as Gods, and Their Left Hand Men, are wont to do.
And so it was.
The next hand that the insulting and dishonoring and sullying blasphemer played he was leading until the very river against another mere mortal. But said river was cloudy and muddy and gray. And when the dust had cleared the other mere mortal had bested the blasphemer, who exclaimed, “What poker god did you pray to in order to get that river card?”
Little did he know. He had mocked the God of Protection, who had therefore withdrawn His protection. And He, and His Left Hand Man, saw that it was good.
The Reader went back to, well, reading. And anon he asked The God of Protection if he knew that Adam Kennedy was hitting .350. The God of Protection averred that he did not. The Reader asked the God of Protection if he followed the Angels. And the God of Protection volunteered that he did not.
Now one might think that, if anyone should follow Angels, it would be a God, especially one as omnipotent, and as omniscient, and as jovial, as The God of Protection. But The God of Protection would not give The Reader the satisfaction. Once Protection is removed, all bets are off.
By and by, The Left Hand Man had to depart, in order to beat the traffic (and his wife—alas that is another story). The God of Protection, as is his wont, walked His Left Hand Man to his chariot, and wished him safe passage. And This Left Hand Man alit, comforted in the thought that The God of Protection had blessed his sojourn with His beneficent send-off.
And The God of Protection proceeded back into Ye Olde Bicycle Club to further demonstrate his Powers to the doubting and ignorant heathen.
And so it was.
And so it shall be.
The God of Protection and His Left Hand Man were at Ye Olde Bicycle Club. Playing cards. Now Mr. Einstein opined, in reference to another, more weighty matter, that God did not play dice, but he said nary a thing about poker. The God of Protection does play poker. For money.
On one occasion, the God of Protection found Himself in the big blind. The Reader was in the small blind. Two mere mortals limped and The Reader called. The God of Protection had K-To and checked. Now one would think a God should be able to give Himself pocket aces at will, but that would make things too easy and cause the multitude to gossip and snipe and whine about Him. Better to have K-T and keep them guessing. Best not to arouse the rabble too greatly. Oh, maybe He’ll abscond with a few jackpots here and there, but elsewise He plays it pretty close to His vestment.
And the flop came K-J-J. The small blind, knowing not what he was in for, bet out. Boldly, provocatively, defiantly. And as the God of Protection was raising, He said, as is His wont, “Here, my little snowflake, my gullible friend, my ignorant compatriot, my waiflike amateur: I am going to give you PROTECTION.”
And so it was.
Yea, the two limpers folded. And the God of Protection, and His Left Hand Man, saw that it was good. And the small blind looked at The God of Protection in dismay, and in disdain, and in disgust, and, mucking and exposing his pitiful pocket deuces, exclaimed, “And who, sir, asked you for protection?”
An extraordinarily apt and comical and well-considered line delivered with perfect timing and grace and aplomb.
Yet he had insulted and dishonored and sullied the God of Protection. And this made Him, and his Left Hand Man, angry and sullen and vengeful. And they vowed, silently, resolutely, definitively, to wreak havoc on the blasphemer, as Gods, and Their Left Hand Men, are wont to do.
And so it was.
The next hand that the insulting and dishonoring and sullying blasphemer played he was leading until the very river against another mere mortal. But said river was cloudy and muddy and gray. And when the dust had cleared the other mere mortal had bested the blasphemer, who exclaimed, “What poker god did you pray to in order to get that river card?”
Little did he know. He had mocked the God of Protection, who had therefore withdrawn His protection. And He, and His Left Hand Man, saw that it was good.
The Reader went back to, well, reading. And anon he asked The God of Protection if he knew that Adam Kennedy was hitting .350. The God of Protection averred that he did not. The Reader asked the God of Protection if he followed the Angels. And the God of Protection volunteered that he did not.
Now one might think that, if anyone should follow Angels, it would be a God, especially one as omnipotent, and as omniscient, and as jovial, as The God of Protection. But The God of Protection would not give The Reader the satisfaction. Once Protection is removed, all bets are off.
By and by, The Left Hand Man had to depart, in order to beat the traffic (and his wife—alas that is another story). The God of Protection, as is his wont, walked His Left Hand Man to his chariot, and wished him safe passage. And This Left Hand Man alit, comforted in the thought that The God of Protection had blessed his sojourn with His beneficent send-off.
And The God of Protection proceeded back into Ye Olde Bicycle Club to further demonstrate his Powers to the doubting and ignorant heathen.
And so it was.
And so it shall be.