Shakespearean Slackware soliloquy

To Slack, or not to Slack: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous alternatives,
Or to take ARMs against a sea of x86 Distributions,
And by opposing reject them? To repel: to snub;
No more; and by reject to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand kernel panics
That Linux is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To deny, to rebuff;
To rebuff: perchance to Windows: ay, there's the rub;
For in that blue screen of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal OS,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes Slackware of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of CentOS,
The user's wrong, the proud root's contumely,
The pangs of a despised CLI, the ABI's delay,
The insolence of systemd and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare boot-loader? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after SysVinit,
The undiscover'd country from whose Bourne shell
No programmer returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of screen resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of UNIX,
And Redhat Enterprise of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. Software for you now!
The fair Ubuntu! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.