Et Tu, Turnbull?

Friends, Aussies, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Internet, not to praise him.

The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Internet. The noble Turnbull
Hath told you Internet was evil to our kids:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Internet answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Turnbull and the rest–
For Turnbull is an innovative man;
So are they all, all innovative men–
Come I to speak in Internet’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Turnbull says he was evil to our children;
And Turnbull is an innovative man.

Internet hath brought many ideas home to Australia
Whose knowledge and enterprise did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Internet seem evil?
When that the poor have cried, Internet hath wept:
Evil should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Turnbull says he was evil;
And Turnbull is an innovative man.

You all did see that on the Internet
We all grew in our knowledge of the world,
And we gained many friendships: was this evil?
Yet Turnbull says he was evil;
And, sure, he is an innovative man.
I speak not to disprove what Turnbull spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not just for the cats:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to News Limited,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is in the coffin there with Internet,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

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