Circular drills

I was watching a documentary yester night (The Bladed Hand). While the opinions in the doc have some strong pitfalls, it's a worthy one, interesting. Would NOT train under some of these people if they paid me for it, but the rest...? Man, they're good.

Now, I think the teaching value of survival is mostly forgotten, and might help explain why the previous generations is so damn good. And I still think that the teaching proficiency itself of many (some of them legendary) teachers needs some work, but there's one thing FMA have that other arts don't emphasize as much.

The doc, at one point, basically says "FMA training has taken over cinema; if you've seen a fight, it's 90% sure it's FMA". Then it sort of extrapolates from there to MA training. I disagree. If anything's taken over MA it's boxing. But...

But the fact is that FMA have some interesting things in them. People get really attached to FMA drills, for example. You'll find people in every corner doing hubud or sombrada. Sometimes with no sense at all, no matter how you measure it. I think that's often a mistake.

The idea of drills isn't. In fact, a lot of arts have them. I can only speak for Japanese arts, but there are such drills there. Unending, partnered, fluid drills... that most instructors forget as soon as they grab the plane back to the West.

And I've been wondering, of late (since before this particular video), how to use the idea of circular, neverending drills in Kaju. Call it sombrada on techniques or hubud on our own "blocks", the idea is there, and it's really accessible. Why isn't it used? Why is most dynamic training I'm seeing a toeing into Boxing waters or some weird ideas on barroom brawls instead of a way to dynamize what you are already training.

Take care.

Bad boxing

Last week, at training, we put on our gloves.

Most of our system went right off the window.

I hate that. I hate that under the guise of learning how to cope with adrenaline we learn, badly, a system that's not our own (boxing, or kickboxing, depending). In... about 8 years in Kaju, I can count with a single hand how many times we've done some adrenal training on our own techniques (basic, kumite-like adrenaline, nothing fancy). "[the class' got] Not enough level" I was told for several years (until I quit asking). But, apparently, level enough for boxing. So, as I was telling a partner, we associate adrenaline with boxing we can't do while we associate Kajukenbo to a stroll at the gim. Not good, by far. It cheapens both systems.

I find it annoying, and worrisome. And my mind keeps trying o find ways around it. Might be finding some.

Take care

Geometry

External martial arts (because I don't know squat about internal) are all about geometry. No matter if it's karate (Goju-ryû, or Kyokushinkai), or savate, or... Deflection is geometry, footwork is geometry, even punching.

Which is why a lot of discussions on martial arts are plain dumb. Part of it is in the explanation. Martial arts are full of sentences that make no sense. "Do that without any strength, at all" At all? How can I stand upright, then? Yes, yes, obvious... until the example is not quite as clear. "Do X in a straight line" But... er... it's an arch.

And then it starts. And you get people who don't SEE anything beyond the name. People who don't see arches or circles, who watch you warily when you mention those, as if you were trying to mislead them.

Now, granted, some geometries are very small, subtle, difficult to perceive. Others are pretty large. And they could be taught. but teaching geometry goes against the grain of martial artists. Unless they go to structured extremes, where shapes are just this wide and just that size. Which is not, can't be, real: shapes will ultimately depend on the situation, opponent, your own body type and your mechanics. But the commonalities will be there. You'll have an arch, or a triangle. And the arch will be wider or shorter, the triangle will be squat or longish. But the mechanics of an arch don't deliver properly is you use a triangle instead. And counterwise.

And teaching that way would be more universal, less prone to sects and cliques, and...

Which is another reason it's not done, of course.

Take care.

Martial arts are social

They've been for several decades, with some very specific exceptions. This means that they're subject to the same constrains and bumps as other social interactions. Three examples:

The current economical crisis has led several in our group to work in foreign lands. So far, they're going home, but I think that's mostly anecdotic. And you'd have to add a couple of local changes of location that, nonetheless, put people well outside the practical distance to attend training regularly. While it's been sad, the first one to go is now second "in command" of a pretty established dojo. Another is looking for a training gym to start a group. One of the more local ones is also on that path... And so a system grows.

And yesterday, at the end of semester dinner, we were looking at the way quite a bunch of people had left our organization. Specially the last bunch, but in general; those last 40 years. And there were two constants: full time instructors and shelving the past. People who'll not acknowledge who they learned the style with, and will later try to obscure the issue. It's almost as if they were scared people would point at them because of it and, by denying, they manage to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And, related to that last, cliquism. Being sure of your own training is good. Disregarding anything else, even nuances... I mentioned it last year in a post that's gone dark, people dissing an instructor and his kali when he'd been invited by the guy doing the seminar AND was better at both styles than those making the fuss. The head instructor wanted them to learn that, but they decided they were above those games. This extends from small things (this way of punching vs. that one, both within the same style) and to bigger ones (the resistance of some people to getting acquainted with Keysi, the local --not as hormonal-- branch, is almost funny).

But learning is social. Teaching is also social. How do you deal with martial arts long term unless you deal with the social part?

Take care.

Acknowledge the gradient

Human brains are impressive. They adapt, they change, they mold themselves. The smallest changes have profound effects.

So, teaching awareness, self defence, the realities of the dangers "out there" should be easy, right?

You wish. If you've been there, you know that.

Rory explains it as a matter of socialization, mostly. Our social brains not wanting to deviate from our group's normal, its perceptions, its consensus. Because realizing certain truths about violence makes you need to change your behaviour, and that might be contrary to your group's interests and its cohesion.

That's a part, but... bear with me for a while.

I'm trying to think in 3D, of late. It touches several projects of mine I'm trying to delay until another one's ready. But my mind stretches that way nonetheless.

Think in 3D? We're humans, We have stereoscopic vision. Of course you think in 3D!

No, you don't. We mostly think in a sort of 2.5D. Height and width, sure (and even the height part is crappy, if you're city-raised). But, depth? Oh, yes, you can perceive distance. But you don't perceive the other side of an object. And you certainly don't perceive the innards. So you dismiss them, likely.

Now, try to think 3D. Try to think how your pen is in the inside. How the bottom of your keyboard is and how it fits the table. How's your oven from behind? Do that continuously.

Do it continuously, 24/7, with every object that crosses your path, every animal, every person.

That's what you're asking of people who don't think in SD terms.

Take care.

Sharp is safe

A sharp knife is a safe knife. You're less likely to force through, it's less likely to buckle and, if you get cut, you heal much better. Much. Really.

In the knife-using circles I've known, those points above are so basic, they're often not even told. The same way you're not told your feet touch the ground.

Remember the kid from last week? Thanks to him, I found an interesting site on teaching knife-use to kids.

It's interesting. Because it's mostly about empowerment, respect, some family bonding... All those nice things when you apply them to abstract knowledge, but oh so scary when you put a knife in a kid's hands.

Some years ago, I was talking with a senior field officer in the Spanish army. He mentioned that he'd rather hire a climber than a soccer player. All that being up there hanging from a rope gave a calm and introspection that soccer simply didn't, even before you accounted for the frequent association between soccer and violence.

What I'm finding is a certain correlation between people who're comfortable around knives (may or may not carry them, or even know their knives, depending on their background) and people who're comfortable with themselves.

And I think on the 1001 ways I use a knife... not quite daily. And I think about the 1001 ways society is trying to teach that kid to misuse knives, to fear them... (Insisting on dull knives and teaching him to play with them; fussing around him when there are knives in the open, to the point of blocking his parents' access in case of an accident; and so on) A kid that knew how to handle knives before he could walk, who keeps trying to help in the kitchen, slicing included (and the reason for his father's search; he finally got one). A kid a goodly part of society can't accept as a responsible "adult-in-making" and tries to dumb down.

And society usually wins. And then we complain that "kids these days", that "most people can't", that "this thing is too sharp". When, really, what happens is that we've been dulled down.

Take care.

Blades

He’d never had any patience with those sagas wherein the hero found, was given, or created a famous blade with a name of its own. Ridiculous! These things were just pieces of steel, not something sentient. And when you focused too much on "my famous blade, Gazornenplatz,” you were apt to forget that it was a tool, to be used and as readily left behind if need be. Aksel had felt the same, and when he’d caught cadets naming their blades and refusing to use any other, he often took the weapons in question to the forge himself and had them melted down, if they happened to have come out of the common arsenal. There wasn’t a great deal he could do about heirloom blades or gifts, other than to ban them from the salle, but that’s exactly what he had done.

Mercedes Lackey, Exile's Honor

Maija mentions she's been playing with Western swords, and about the differences in mindset due to different kinds of design. Personally, what I'd likely find annoying of a good deal of Western swords is the lack of guard to the sides of the cutting plane in the classic medieval "cross" design (Oakeshott).

But what I've found so far is that there's a kind of "feel" of blades. And considering how hard it was for me to switch practice swords and how natural some moves seem with completely unknown blades... And I mean going from katana-like designs to one handed sabres, or knives. I have the feeling that a lot of the problem with swords is not what you don't know.

It's what you DO know. To use the previous example: it was knowing the weight of my previous practice swords that made it difficult to me to adapt to the new ones. But when I tried a talwar some time ago, there were some movements that just "were" in the blade, movements that didn't come from my martial arts, but my body. Something similar happened with a sabre built to Japanese WWII requirements, and with an old knife with filipino delusions.

And I'm not sure it doesn't tie to those ideas from Rory. That we learn playing, not cramming ideas. That we know how to move and that, if we're not careful, MA learning ends up putting way to many restrictions and destroying the knowledge we already had of our own body.

Hm...

Take care.

Kintsugi

I've been thinking on that last post. Then the one on the quality of Japanese kata. Then the one on modern bunkai instructors.

When people do more than a martial art, they may hear often that quote about emptying one's cup before refilling. Like many other Eastern proverbs, it gets taken out of context. If you do, say, ZNKR Seitei iai and a koryu (an old school; in this context, a swordwork one), those two are similar enough that skills will want to cross the barrier, sometimes for the worse. Always? NO! If you get used to the handling of a sword, you can use that sword. And koryu and Seitei use the same design, share some of the moves. You do have to separate the practice of each, understand what each one is trying to tell you. Check.

However, you can get into a practice with some bad habits. Those should be discarded, but I can tell you from personal experience that some are hard to forego. What can you do, then? Do you discard the pot? You can't, not really. The pot is you, and you can't discard yourself. If you could, you wouldn't have trouble to start with (and some people can, true). But you try to break the pot, and join it again with a better filling. Then do it again. And again... until the result is better than the beginning. Until, sometimes, the result is better than a gold vase or a pure porcelain one.

This goes for MA as well. I'm trying to understand some things of the Kajukenbo variant of Naihanchi. See what has been lost in transmission, what was added back then, why. I wouldn't even dream of trying this with Kuk Sool forms. I might, some day, just for the fun. But even if the forms had some core, once upon, the way that art teaches them has polluted them way beyond any reasonable cost-benefit ratio. Note that I'm comparing them with Kaju, a MA that doesn't really value its forms.

Can you retrain someone coming from massive college karate classes? Probably. If he comes, he's already making an effort. If he stays, he's probably worth yours (and you have to try anyhow, that's why you're a teacher). Can you retrain someone coming from a strength or an old wise men cult? Yes. Can you train someone who's actually good in another martial art and wants a different POV? Yes.

It's not going to be easy, though. And pretending you start from zero is only going to frustrate both of you. But starting anywhere else means you have to check where he comes from, understand his strengths and weaknesses. In a way, understand at BB level an art you haven't practised yourself.

What? You thought MA were easy?

Take care.

It's for real men

My ass.

Back when I did Ju Jutsu, one of the few real practitioners we had was a small woman, older than any of us, instructor included, who'd came from abroad. Her technique could only be second to her fighting spirit.

I've found similar things here and there. But, as it happens, I was just watching a karate training video, filmed in a dojo in mainland Japan. High school students. From where I stand, it's a pretty weird video. You have those ideas of Japan, you see some small training halls, visiting instructors to Europe bring their pupils... and you get ideas.

Most of them can't kick. Mind you, I can't do a proper "karate kick" myself, I know that. Apparently, they don't. It's been said that shodan, the black belt, is taken more lightly in Japan; some people go so far as to say that you can get it more easily. I know a Japanese iai instructor who expressed surprise when I failed my nidan, and it didn't feel feigned. Apparently, in many places (I won't even dream of saying it's general), it really is easier to "start" the black belt path.

Again, it's weird. It's one of those schools with two belts: black or white. That's it. Traditional. But it looks weird to find black belts who can't sit in seiza, whose rei shiki is a bad hasty routine. And some kids have an impressive precision... when doing prescribed forms. Their sparring looks like cockfighting. Healthy young men bashing against each other, shining in sweat.

And then, you start to see the commonalities of the ones that somehow look better. More focused, more intent. They're the smallish kids, the girls...

"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." Does it apply to karate? Myths insist, every generation, on the story of the sickly kid who goes into martial arts an becomes a beacon, an example, a master. I know a couple of real life examples myself. And, for what it's worth, the concentration of nebulizers around our mat is impressive. But, when it comes to us, we still look for the healthy guy, the kicking champ. Tall, muscled, healthy. And it can give you some impressive artists. But it's the tiny guy who's finally found something that makes him feel whole, that gives him the hope of having a chance (both socially and physically), of proving himself.

And, yet, we often manage to forget them.

Take care.

EDIT: They're not a high school. They're a private university!

Sharply forward

There are two kanji (and a zen proverb) I'm falling in love in MA. The proverb is that in my "avatar", 'gen mata gen'. Mystery beyond (the) mystery. There's a longer version, and it comes originally from China, at least. It reflects the idea that every time you think you've solved something in life, there's another mystery behind it.

The other two are more "mechanic". Mukō (first kanji on the right) is a kanji I met through Tatsumi-ryū. In the school, it means forwardness, and it's applied a to a go no sen technique, a technique where you're reacting and where you must push forward, avoid getting into defensive mode. It's a mindset that applies beautifully to Kajukenbo, even its associated mechanics.

And the last one... the last one goes the other way. If Mukō is something I first understood in Tatsumi and brought to Kajukenbo, Hazumu is something I've learned in Kajukenbo and I'm learning to apply to Tatsumi. Meaning? Bouncy, bullet, snap, flip, lively... Do not stop your technique at every hit. Bounce back. Use his energy and snap back into him.

I'm liking it, but I realize you need a certain kind of head.

Take care.

Tactics

Rory differentiates between strategies, tactics, principles... Regarding Kajukenbo [*], we have a single strategy: Jam his head. This can be pretty literal, or not so much. The idea is that you confuse him by alternating sources of pain (heights of strikes, whatever), robbing field of vision, messing with is balance (occupying space, these last two)... Everything's set up for jamming his OODA. And when he's got enough to catch up to, you ask for payment in full.

But that's the strategy. As we train, it's not taught separately. In a way, somehow like we're not taught to breathe [+] beyond some pointers here and there when we go somewhere real cold, or we start Phys-Ed classes. We probably put more importance in the particular tools. Some of them:

• The centerline Angel put some Wing Chun in our Kajukenbo. Not specific moves (we don't have Chun Choi, for example), but the mindset. We're a tad more circular that what I've seen of WC, but some ideas are there.
• The push We kind of roll over through our opponent, little by little, using the extension of our punches. We don't strike to push, but we do, indeed, push some after the strike. Its a tad hard to explain. I've seen similar ideas in iaido, in that tiny moment just after impact, but you have to train under people who actually mean to cut.
• The bounce When we don't quite push, early on the technique, we use the meeting of forces to cut the deployment time of our next hit. Possibly one of the reasons we tend to use both hands to block. One stays, the other bounces back and strikes before the block is finished. when it merges with the centerline, you get something pretty similar to some ideas of Ittō-ryū kenjutsu.
• Cutting the circle See last post. This merges quite well with the bounce, to the point that, as we use them, they often feel like the same.

Then we have some extras: position (positio, position, position!), control, offlining... But the way we reach that is through these tools. Now, let's see if I can find a way to emphasize it.

Take care.

[*] KSDI-Spain, under Ángel García-Soldado. We are considered more or less heretics.

[+] Well, I was. Asthma has that. And meditation practitioners. Most people aren't, though.

Cutting the circle

I've been thinking around our blocks, about ways to train them basically. Think kung-fu film routines. Or Karate Kid, either Hawai'i or Beijing. Then I recalled a couple of our syllabus techniques against a baton strike, the one for our fifth coloured belt.

I think, and take that with a salt mine, that the difference between the circles in Kajukenbo and those in Aikido is that Aikido follows the circle and the wave to their conclusion, even when it shortens it, when it compacts the radius for a quicker end. Kajukenbo interrupts the circle. A circle it has created itself. The mindset for this is, in a way, as anti-ju (or anti-aiki) as you might imagine.

And yet... Imagine a throw in that most known of ju styles, Kodokan judo. Say, the very basic O-soto gari. You are creating a circle... and trusting the ground to end it. It does that, mind you. And the ways some schools use it is the difference between "do" (I want to keep playing with my partner on my way to satori) and "jutsu" (I want to break the son of a bitch so that I'm alive to reach satori).

Kajukenbo, in a way, shortcuts that. It sets artificial "floors" so that your opponent finds itself bouncing from a force into another, getting hit twice as hard with a minimum extra of force. He is not allowed to "shed". Of course, like a good judo entrance, you cannot click the damn thing, it has to be fluid. And there lies the problem. Striking fluidly seems to be harder that throwing, which already is hard enough.

So, Kajukenbo, the bouncing art?

Take care.

Re-set the classics

There's a nice interview out there to Iain Abernethy, a great karate practitioner. He's a great worker of kata, and I don't mean a performer. And his works on the interpretation and on bunkai are important.

And yet...

I still think we're doing it wrong. Yes, that includes Iain and me. And, yes, he's much better.

In the second part of the interview, his interviewer, Jesse Enkamp, says:

And unless people are on this same level of understanding about Karate, it’s hard to even discuss kata! Here’s another dilemma: In ye olde days, people learned “bunkai” first, and then proceeded to practice the solo pattern (kata) by themselves, just as a memory aid. Today, it’s the complete opposite: We learn the kata first, and then grope in the dark for an understanding of the moves (bunkai). How can we reverse this process? Should we even?

Iain's answer is, by the way, "sort of". Read it.

I'm going to go further.

If we don't understand the kata, and if our styles have been severely influenced by the upheavals of the XXth century, and if technique (or bunkai, if you prefer) came before kata, should we still practice these same kata? Should we, instead, create new ones?

Ah... I just felt a great disturbance in the Chi, as if millions of couch shihans suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.

How dare I!?

Well, I dare because kata are a language. And if we've lost the meaning, the ways to properly interpret it, we have about the same problem Jews had when they tried to resurrect Hebrew, but worse. As far as I understand it, they did have some people who still spoke the old version; we may not. We do have excellent teachers, but the chain of transmission for, say, Naihanchi is lost.

Now, these kata were not created by some sort of angel. Satori, in those cases were it is claimed, is not something out of this world. These kata were created by people who knew their style well, who needed a way to remember, and practice, moves. Who were, often, good enough teachers to have passed the information down to a next generation [*].

So... These days we have great practitioners, great instructors, people with good medical knowledge (at least by XVIth-XIXth century standards)... People like Abernethy himself, like the new batch of Western practitioners, like some Eastern ones. People who've "cross trained" in other styles, been influenced by them... like the masters of old. If karate was influenced by the Chinese (duh!), maybe even Siam / Thailand... why can't it be influenced, these days, by the constellation of styles? Back then, "influence" meant a stranded traveller, a lesson in secret, spying... These days, a trip to a seminar.

Where is the Sanchin, or the Naihanchi, that includes lessons from Muay Thai, from BJJ, from Western boxing, from Judo? Back again from White Crane? From Xing Yi? Silat? Were is the kata that condenses a whole modern system? If Naihanchi was the "book" for a whole style, why can't we create our books? Why do we need so and so many kata for black belt? Were is OUR kata? Have we become soldered onto kata we just realized we no longer understand? Why weren't they changed in the last... 50+ years or so? Tournament standards? Fear of insulting tradition? The old masters created and modified kata, but we're afraid of it? Or maybe too proud to recognize we need to change those kata if we have to use them, to profit from them?

Take care.

[*] Not enough of it, or we wouldn't have this problem. So, either they didn't think it was important enough or they weren't good enough teachers. Or maybe one led to the other. Man, isn't that another can of worms...!

Challenging the master

Maybe this is another "kill the Buda" thing, but...

We trained something more dynamic, today. Gloves and mitts, mostly. While I'm not a fan of most such work, since I don't see the link to our mechanics, some of it was rather interesting.

And then, I cheated. If you know me, this shouldn't surprise you that much. I cheat, it's what I do. Think about the scorpion and the turtle. It takes an effort for me not to find holes in rules and exploit them, whether they are game rules or social rules. Usually in a rather tame way, but still...

Thing is, we had a 2-vs-1 drill were the opponents had a receiving and an attacking role. The idea is that whoever was doing the exercise would try to avoid the puncher while beating against the mitts of the other one. Annoyingly tiring.

And then, I got to hold the gloves while my instructor tried to avoid the punches of an old friend.

So I cheated. I did follow the rules to the letter, mind you. But I went into offensive mindsets and collaborative work, trying to box him so that his buddy could punch him properly. Evading him when he managed something. And so on, keeping him, usually, at the tip of a wide 'V', pushing him.

We exhausted him.

Now, if he had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been as aggressive. If he had been only slightly my senior, most gyms would have found that OK.

He's 6 dan my senior. I can feel the disturbance in the Force as my challenge to the mid-high dan status quo ripples over the establishment.

And yet, that's my duty. He is six dan my senior. I have to give the most. And he doesn't have people six dan his senior to challenge him, to teach him, so the only way he has to get better, day to day (this is, excepting high level seminars or private classes), is through his pupils. We don't want him at the same level (or, likely, worse) ten years from now because he had no way to progress, to reach beyond. And, hey, watching him cope is a lesson. So, there.

Still, I can't help but feel this is not a common mindset. More's the pity.

Take care.

Training train

I'm on the train back from my first "instructors meeting" of Kajukenbo. In theory, the first I've been allowed to be in, but apparently some people do not feel under the same rules. It's basically a black belt seminar.

Nice training. Met a couple of interesting guys, trained some, thought some more. I had to direct a class on Thursday, and this training has given me ideas for the next one I have to set, whenever it comes. And I'm not even too sore.

It makes you think, though, and think some more to see some things. The training itself is not really all that different from other seminars, but it's sort of more... Focused.

Also, my instructor sort of confessed to me that, back when I joined, he didn't really expect me to last. Neither was I all that hopeful, myself, back then. Like he, I saw how different Kaju was from what I knew, what I'd done before. And, mind you, it's still s daily struggle. People laugh, because it's a tad ridiculous to see a black belt saying things on the line of "Kaju doesn't agree with me". Or "I have trouble with this or that... Hell, i have trouble with Kaju", but beyond the awareness of the "advanced" belt of how much he still has to learn, it's true that Kaju is not, and never has been, a style that agrees with me. Neither my bodytype, a walking asparragus, nor my previous learning as a child and teen, in some sort of modernized jujutsu and judo, really help in learning a style that works at a mid-short distance, with a lot of percussion, almost none of which is snapping.

So it's hard, daily. It's also rewarding. Because it proves that the mind can win over the body. That your mind itself can change. And because training in certain things is a reward itself. Seeing how things snap together... How things can get symplified... And The same way I owe a lot of my SD-in-MA ideas to Angel, 20 years ago, I peobably owe a lot of my MA-as-move ideas to Rory.

Let's see if I can ever manage to teach them.

Take care