I’m sure you’ve all experienced them before as I have any number of times. Many may recall my childhood anecdote about the Quest for Yoda. I can go more into that some other time. However I just had a really strange one. Enough to send shivers down my spine.
Last night, as a break from my highly productive music period (due to abstaining from any and all computer gaming) I decided to kick my feet up and, you guessed it, play a game. The choice of game is still cause for more than a little concern as it was ‘Civilization IV’, not the kind of game you casually play for a few minutes before bed. Most people who get into this one talk of sleepless nights and sleepy days.
Anyway, I decided to give it a try, to see if it lived up to it’s reputation as a swallower of lives and after running a brief tutorial, began to form my own civilization. I chose the Japanese civilization as my starting culture (predictably) and away I went. After a number of hours I could feel myself being pulled inexorably into the world I had created. I built several cities including Kyoto, Tokyo and Edo and chose a war-like culture designed to conquer others.
My first victim was Gandhi, the poor soul with a peace-loving society to the north. He wanted to befriend me which I initially did to woo him into a false sense of security before I blew him away. When I built up a large force of invincible archers I proceeded to declare war and began my campaign against the bald prick. My first phase was to surround one of his smaller cities close to my border, shower him with arrows and mop up the mess with my ground infantry. I noticed a few archers in his city but thought they would be dispatched with relative ease by my far superior bowmen who outnumbered them 5 to 1 anyway. After all, Gandhi had invested all his research in spiritual pursuits not expecting a scrap with the Pondenzas down south.
So my archers moved in ,poised to begin their volley, my footmen hunkered down for their glorious charge and…. You’re probably wondering at this point where the phreaky coincidence comes in. Give it a moment, it’s coming…..So my lieutenant drops his hand and the assault begins. My archers move into range and….. are picked off to a man by the superior skill and range of Gandhi’s longbow men, poised atop the parapets of the city. Not a one of my men scores a hit.
In desperation my foot move in ….and are predictably mown down by the same longbows. ‘Curses’ I say, ‘The pox on yonder infernal technology’. How dare Gandhi, the devious little tree hugger, have the foresight to research that one morsel of useful weaponry while I the warmonger , whose vision was clouded by lust for power, just kept spitting lowly archers and shit-kicker foot en masse from my ignoble barracks.
Now Gandhi was pissed. He wanted my blood and his small but effective nappy wearing force began a campaign that was to rend my empire asunder.
I went to bed cursing long bows.
So now we get to the coincidence. It’s Sunday, I get up after a rude awakening by Mum on the phone. How dare she ring before 12! Pin seems lively and active after a few days of the flu, and I sit in front of the TV to eat lunch, the back of my mind still pondering the previous night’s tactical flubbery. I’m only half paying attention to the TV when I turn over to discovery channel and theres a doco on which is part of a series entitled ‘Worlds best….’ Usually the top ten tanks, or helicopters, or motorbikes. Today it’s the top ten weapons of all time and they’re onto no. 6; the Tommy-gun. They finish up and move on to number 5 and what does the announcer say. I’m sure you’ve guessed it already, ‘The number 5 all-time best weapon was the scourge of the French and went on to allow the domination of Western Europe by the British. It’s the English Long-bow’.
At least it wasn’t Indian. Next time Gandhi, next time.
