Never start a land war in Asia

There used to be a game, by Microsoft, called Age of Empires. Age of Empires was a RTS game, much like Starcraft and Warcraft, but it was very historical. So historical, in fact, that all the world history I knew up until AP World History was learned from Age of Empires I, Age of Empires II, and Age of Empires II: Conquerors campaigns. I even learned a lot of ancient military tactics--always bring cavalry to destroy siege weapons, which are surprisingly effective against massed infantry tactics. When invading a town, always bring a trebuchet, because while battering rams really are effective against gates, they really can't do much against a castle. And judicious use of fire ships can decimate a superior armada in short order. Oh, and also that priests can heal with prayer.

What I didn't realize is that, not only did AoE teach history and tactics, it also taught valuable life lessons. For example, always sacrifice a lower unit to protect your hero units. Who cares if a couple dozen militia die as long as Joan of Arc can live to fight another day? Another example--trebuchets vs catapults reveal that size does matter, and two basic archers vs one crossbowmen show that it is, in fact, quantity over quality. Fighting in the shade is just a euphemism for getting skewered by Cho Ku No, and war and slaughter is a much more effective way of winning than peace and prayer (i.e. relic gathering.)

But what really convinced me that AoE is a sage, nay!--a guru, of heretofore unimaginable magnitude was that it echoed the two most sacred maxims of humanity. They are as follows:

1) Never start a land war in Asia.

If you attempted to invade any Asian empire in this game involving a prolonged fight with land units, you will undoubtedly lose. Because the Chinese Cho Ku No shoot way too fast to defend against, the Mongolian horse archers can tear any army apart, and the samurai slash up everything in the long run. Cheap, but deadly units means that any lasting war in Asia are doomed to fail. To win against these empires, one must use repeated, but unsustained, forceful attacks--don't allow any massing! Even the Persians--just imagine massed elephants trampling your empire. Yeah, cry. This maxim is so prominently exhibited that it leads to, shockingly, a corollary:

1a) Never start a land war ANYWHERE.

Because all that happens is that both sides dig in, castle up, run out of resources, and just sit and wait for the other to suicide futilely against overwhelming fortifications, at which point the game is boring and stupid.

2) Never go in against a Sicilian when DEATH is one the line!

Perfectly exemplified by the Byzantine Empire. Because of those Sicilian blood running through Byzantine veins, it is indisputably the most dominant empire with the best bonuses. Observe the bonuses:

Byzantines Civilization Bonus:

Monks 3X heal speed.
DAKFJ;ASJ. Unkillable units. Seriously.
Byzantines Civilization Features:

Buildings +10% hit points Dark Age, +20% Feudal Age, +30% Castle Age, +40% Imperial Age.

Camels, Skirmishers and Pikemen cost -25%.

Fire Ships +20% attack.

Advance to Imperial Age costs -33%.

Bonus hit points early = cannot be killed early. Even more bonus late = invincible fortifications. Camels/skirmishers/pikeman = cheap cheap cheap counter units.

Fire ships bonus damage = naval domination

Cheap final advancement = REALLY QUICKLY becomes overwhelming.

Compare to the, for example, useless Saracens (who aren't useless, really, but when compared to Byzantines...)

Saracens Civilization Bonus:

Foot Archers +1 attack vs. buildings.
Not gonna help if you can't even reach the buildings. And holy shit, +40% HP bonus? +1 attack really helps.
Saracens Civilization Features:

Market trade cost only 5%.

Transport Ships 2X hit points, 2X carry capacity.

Galleys attack 20% faster.

Cavalry Archers +3 attack versus buildings.

Nobody, in a real game, uses market trade unless they have allies. Which is not very often

Transport ships? Really? Just as easy and cheap to make TWO transport ships.

Galleys suck. And eventually get upgraded and lose bonus.

Again with the building destruction. No use when you can't advance past an army!

Even the special units are incomparable.

Saracens Unique Units:

Mameluke

Hit Points: 65
Attack: 7
Armor: 0/0
Range: 3
Speed: Fast
Special: Attack bonus vs. cavalry.

Byzantines Unique Units:

Cataphract

Hit Points: 110
Attack: 9
Armor: 2/1
Range: 0
Speed: Fast
Special: Attack bonus vs. infantry.

Even WITH the attack bonus against cavalry, Mamelukes get DESTROYED by Cataphracts. Don't believe me? Go play a game and run the test.

Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line, indeed.

Age of Empires, may your legacy live on to educate future generations.

Cluny the Misunderstood

One day, I was sitting in my room, thinking about my past conquests--literary of course. And it made me think of my greatest failure, that being my inability to finish the Redwall series. Nay, not just my inability, but the sheer impossibility of the task. Brian Jacques just never gives up! Isn't he like 120 years old now or something? That guy needs to stop. And yet, I eagerly await the next installment. And as I wait, I ponder on his past works, and one thing struck me--the Redwall stories are often, if not always, written in the style of a history, with the Recorder telling a story. Well, as we know, history is written by the winners and, it seems, Redwallers never lose. What about the other side of the story? What would the rats and foxes and ferrets and stoats and weasels (and even a wolverine!) say? And it was then that I had a vision. Yes, a vision. A ghost of the past rose from the first Redwall book I ever read (appropriately titled Redwall)--the ghost of Cluny the Scourge. And this is his story:

My name is Cluny. Not Cluny the Scourge, as those sadly misinformed mice keep saying. Just Cluny. In fact, I was known in my homeland as Cluny the Lurve. Yes, before I crossed the ocean and to make my pilgrimage to Redwall, I traveled the land on foot to spread the gospel of Lurve! At one point, I had even participated in the Lurve Crusades, where we fought against the darkness that threatened to take over my homeland. I gathered a band of humble creatures, outcast by most, living only by simple means, clothed only in rags, feasting only on scraps of bread and water. In my travels, I heard about a wondrous land of plenty for those who are full of peace and lurve, and I gathered my disciples on a quest for this holy grail. That land was called Mossflower; that grail was called Redwall.

My followers and I, numbering in the hundreds, nay thousands, attempted to cross the deep, dark sea to reach this promised land. The journey was long and arduous, filled with danger and misfortune. Fully half our ships were lost to the towering waves and leviathans of the deep. But we persevered. Finally, battered and near death, we landed on the Mossflower shore. Emerging from our ships, we found ourselves amidst a ship graveyard. We were surrounded by ships wrecked against this land. With the sea at our backs and no ships left, we had no choice but to clothe ourselves in the strange metal casings we salvaged from the wreckages and journey into the dark forest ahead.

We also found strange shiny tools within the wreckages, which we used to dig up roots and cut them up for stew. We lived thus for nearly a week, before stumbling upon a large, 4-legged animal pulling a cart of hay. Being pawsore, we asked if we could hitch a ride. The animal, called a horse, kindly agreed and asked for our destination. We explained our pilgrimage, and the horse, bless his heart, promised to take us there with all due speed. He ran tirelessly for a full day and night, for our sake. Feeling sorry and deeply indebted to him, and lacking the lungpower to shout for him to take a break, I asked one of my disciples to jump onto his back and whisper our thanks. My disciple, being clumsy, landed teeth first, which provoked our poor friend. Unfortunately, he tumbled off the horse's back quickly and was lost to us, may he rest in peace.

Finally arriving near Redwall, I send a messenger to ask for refuge. "Tell them Cluny the Lurve is here to pay his respects," I instruct my disciple. "Beg permission to meet the Father Abbot!" My disciple returns at a dead run, terrified. "Cluny! I believe we may have found the wrong Redwall. The creatures there rudely denied our pleas, and one large badger called us scum and vermin."

I thought deeply. This was definitely the right forest. Could the rumors of a bountiful and loving Abbey be wrong? As I deliberated, my disciples walk in with a family of voles. Aha! I will ask them for the truth about the Abbey. "Mr. Vole," I address the father. "Can you tell me about yonder Abbey?" His response was full of vitriol. "I will never tell you anything, vile scourge!" Taken aback at this rudeness, I ask them to be confined until I could figure this out.

I thought and thought and came to this conclusion: There was an dark evil that infiltrated the Abbey, poisoning the thoughts of its creatures. But what could have such power? And suddenly, I realized--Martin, the Warrior Mouse. The Warrior infiltrated the Abbey, and through the power of the Joseph Bell put all the creatures under a hypnotic suggestion, thereby corrupting and endangering their eternal souls. And right then, I knew what I must do.

I called together my followers. "Brothers!" I shout. "A sad day has befallen this beauteous world. The bastion of all that is good has fallen under an evil spell. The corrupt spirit of this cruel mercenary Martin has enthralled the Abbey and corrupted its purpose. We must purge this Abbey of this evil; we must Bust That Ghost! Though it pains me greatly, we must wage war on these poor creatures, and save them from a terrible doom. Brothers! Let us unite against evil, and cleanse Redwall!"

And it was then that I sadly had to don, for only the second time in my life, my other title. The title that I had forsaken after the Lurve Crusades. I had to take up arms, once again, as Cluny the Scourge of Evil.

And that folks, is what really happened.