Bayesians and Frequentists

I do love that we can fight over this
And make it a matter of politics.

Step over, step up, step across
The water-striding ignorance

Of a man raised ordinary, dimming,
Then given access to tangled webs,

A bug among the Arachnida,
A prayerful pretender among deceits

And tensions tendered by the real
Predators of God's counterfactuals.

Here's your etymology my boy,
Now take this horsehair parlor armchair

And convince me that you know
What I'm salivating to expose.

Reflection belongs to the shallows
And grows rarer over the depths.

Here are three boxes. Do you know
The chances any one of them holds

Monte Carlo Hall and all its baroque,
Baronial, baccarat-tabled splendor?

Here is your Gongora. Here is
Your innumerative hyperbaton.

Here is your sour Quevedo, singing
"In the long run, we'll all be dead."

Tell me again what side of this box
You are on. The brain-teaser side?

The missing-child side? The inside?
I would tell you, but you're done.