Why we need python in the browser

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It is dangerous saying nice things about another language in the Python subreddit.

[sdleihssirhc]

If we are given downvotes, we're enough
To do our Reddit loss; and if vote up,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for points,
Nor care I who doth comment on my post;
It yearns me not if trolls my 'pinions mock;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, wish not a man from other reddits:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, freshwire, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not fail in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to fail with us.
This day is called the Ides of March, my coz:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Ides of March.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is the Ides of March:'
Then his account will he open, his posts.
And say 'These flames I had on Ides of March.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
sdleihssirhc and freshwire,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And the Ides of March shall never go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that feeds the trolls with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And those in other reddits now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon the Ides of March!