Witness their blood stain the sands, Persian King. See your 200,000+ strong army fall by the scores at Marathon. O Darius, a mere 10,000 Greeks drove your screaming soldiers into the sea. Watch your ambition fail with them, as soon after you lie with your ancestors.
the last runner crosses
the finish line.
How easy for you, machine-mind, to judge the grievances of a king. How fraudulant your pretense at pity as you analyze the odds. What would you know of the loyalty of dying men? What can you understand about devotion to a God-King, sworn to crush an upstart people? Chronicle my failure as you will; you never lived it. Nor will you ever truly live.
Gary Kasperov surrenders
to Big Blue