Throughout humanity's long history, no tactic in any war had ever been suited to every situation. Most needed to be adapted to local conditions; change any one factor among timing, terrain, and manpower, and the outcome could be vastly different.
But this conclusion needed one prerequisite: in wars fought for victory, no tactic was omnipotent.
But if that prerequisite was altered slightly—not treating victory as necessary, but merely wanting the other side to fail, or even simply wanting to make them miserable—then one had to mention a tactic that could work under almost any conditions: Bombing feces.
Please note, this was bombing feces, not splashing feces. Splashing feces was really just an advanced version of pinning the blame on someone. At most, its methods were more disgusting. Its defining traits were premeditation and targeting; if the other side was alert enough, they could still avoid it.
But bombing feces was different. This was a tactic whose consequences even its planner and executor could not fully predict. When you threw a bomb into an outhouse pit, you had no way of knowing which direction the shit would splatter, or whether it would cover you from head to toe.
That was precisely the brilliance of the bombing-feces tactic. If even the person who devised it did not know the final result, then who else could foresee it and avoid it in advance?
Many people had once been puzzled by the situation involving Bruce Wayne and Gotham, because what Bruce Wayne did in Gotham was basically like having a smart toilet but stubbornly refusing to use the automatic flush, insisting on personally researching every conceivable posture to flush down that lump of shit stuck to the inner wall.
But experimenting with poop-flushing postures in your own toilet was one thing. Getting so angry