Video from France (Thanks for Postng This)

Stage Chris Thomas Kyusho-jitsu Serge ko by playbic

Seminars: Milwaukee, Paris, Bousse, Romeoville

DKI is everywhere. These are fliers for my upcoming seminars. My sensei, George Dillman, has his annual October Camp in Deer Lake, then he is doing a camp in England which will have many senior DKI instructors. My friend, Ken Smith is teaching in Wisconsin October 1. My friend Dustin Seale has seminars scheduled in Illinois and Italy, and I can't keep track of Will Higginbotham's schedule.

I guess the point is this, if you've always wanted to train in kyusho-jitsu...

speaking of training,

thanks for reading,

now go train.

CT

Rooting

A new video blog about the concepts of rooting and double weighting, includes how-to do a horse stance.

3 Permissions

I have found myself repeating often a set of permissions I received from my sensei, George Dillman. Now, he never said it exactly in this manner, but this is how he taught me and what he expected from me. So, I have sought to summarize the philosophical approach to teaching within Dillman Karate International (DKI) and which I try to model for my own direct students (known affectionately as KJK). (By the way, I owe the idea of permissions as a way of articulating a teaching philosophy to the writings of Rory Miller. He has a great list of permissions he gives his students.)

My sensei gave me three permissions: 1) the permission to learn something he hadn't taught me; 2) the permission to discover something he doesn't know – provided I show him, so he can learn it, too; 3) and the permission to stop doing what doesn't work.

I can remember way back in the 70's, I had purchased a pair of sai, and taught myself the sequence of a sai kata. (Now, I was doing a lot incorrectly, as the shredded sides of my gi and scratched flesh over my ribs could attest, but, I was trying.) I went into the Shotokan dojo where I trained one afternoon (no classes scheduled, and the floor was mine). I practiced empty hand kata, then, pulled out the sai and began to practice sai kata. That particular kata has a a movement in which the sai clash together. The sound brought my sensei out of his office. He watched for a moment, then said, "We don't do that." He then paused, struggling, I could tell, with some inner contradiction. "It is fine for you to do that, for it's historical value, but I do not want you to bring it into the dojo. I don't want people to be confused about what we do here."

That was the last time (actually, the only time) I brought sai into that school. But, it didn't stop me from training with the weapon. Nor from adding manji-sai, bo, nunti-bo and tonfa to my practice (never really picked up the kama or the nunchaku, though I own them, and can manage a few basics). In fact, I am currently working on a book on sai and manji-sai, and plan a follow-up on bo and nunti-bo.

Interestingly, about 25 years later, I checked out a website about my old dojo, and – lo and behold – my former sensei now teaches bo and tonfa.

In contrast, sensei Dillman expects his senior students to research and learn things he himself doesn't know. And, he expects us to share that knowledge. A typical weekend at the Dillman Training Camp in Pennsyvania will feature any number of arts taught by members of the organization. Sometimes what people bring back is "nothing special," but sometimes it is critical information which helps tremendously. That is why we incorporate kiai-jitsu into our practice, and that is why we incorporate toate-jitsu into our practice. These skills really began with students who learned something and brought it back.

There are risks in this. First, it is tempting for students to develop a "flavor of the month" attitude. Always learning something new can make novelty itself the value (in contrast, great masters spend most of their time learning something old). Second, when a student has permission to learn from another source, the sensei can end up losing that student to some other style, school, teacher or group that fits their fancy. Third, if a student learns something the teacher didn't know, and brings that back to the group, the student can begin to think that they have become something special, that they have attained a level superior to others.

But, the values outweigh the risks, because in a learning environment that is open, great learning possible. New information deepens our understanding of existing knowledge. It equips us to discover more information and unlocks new possibilities. And, it encourages lower ranked students, as high dans continue to model learning even after years of training. (This last one is important, because, at seminars we old-dudes often are seen standing around, talking, or watching with our thumbs in our belts. So, we really need to show that we are still learning, still discovering and still open to being taught something we don't know.)

Because I think these things are so important, these three permissions, I have taken to repeating them when I teach, repeating them around the world, and granting the same permission to everyone who trains with me.

Thanks for reading.

Now go train.

CT

p.s. You'll notice I say there are three permissions, but I only talked about one of them. You can read this older post of mine where I talk about the permission to stop doing what doesn't work. http://christhomasmartialarts.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-07-06T07%3A12%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=7

Martial ARTist

Ken Smith helping me demonstrate at a Dillman seminar).

My friend, Ken Smith, is a direct student of Professor Remy Presas, and is one of the designated inheritors of Modern Arnis. Ken loves to quote his beloved teacher, and when he does, he will do a spot-on impression of Remy's accent, phrasing and somewhat imperfect English. It is a funny, loving tribute. When he teaches Arnis, however, Ken sounds like Ken.

In contrast, I knew an American karate teacher, who, whenever he was teaching, sounded like his Japanese sensei, same broken English, same everything. I am only remembering this because my acupuncturist was telling me about fellow students (from his days studying kung fu) who started speaking like their Chinese sifu.

This tendency points to a fundamental problem, most martial artists are not artists at all, they are mimics. Their goal is to imitate and they hope to become clones of their teachers. Oddly, at the same time, they believe that their teachers are somehow imbued with other-worldly skills that no one else could ever attain.

But, as Professor Wally Jay like to say (I'm sure he said it often, but this is the exact way he said it to me), “No matter how hard you train a St. Bernard, it will never run like a greyhound. Everybody has a different way.” No one can become Bruce Lee, or Remy Presas, or Wally Jay. All anyone can do is be their own martial artist. So, Ken Smith is not Remy Presas. And even though he is inheritor of Modern Arnis, he still moves, thinks and teaches like Ken. And that is what makes him a martial artist.

Thanks for reading,

now go train.

CT

Fajing

Here is a post on fajing, explosive power.

Our New Book

I've been getting questions about our new book Pressure Point Fighting Secrets of Ryukyu Kempo (being printed now, we expect delivery by the 1st of October).

Here's the story – it actually begins with our second book, Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO. This book was produced using technology that has become outdated, and we are no longer able to reprint it. Not wanting that material to be lost to the martial arts community, we considered rebuilding the book from scratch. However, in the intervening years we have compiled more examples of pressure point applications and a greater understanding of the art we cherish. So, we have decided to produce a new book – one which retains content from Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO, but also greatly expands on that content in both breadth and depth.

I want to be very clear on this. Our new book could be thought of as our second book on steroids, except, that wouldn't really do it justice.

For starters, I pulled the original negatives from our second book, and scanned them myself, correcting image problems and producing much better pictures. But, I didn't use everything. We edited out some material from our old book, and then added so much new. So, this new book contains many additional pressure points and their use; many new techniques; new photos of sensei Dillman performing Naihanchi Shodan; we added an appendix that details the energetics of stance, including the primary and secondary stances, the use of stance to modify energy flow, male and female characteristics, transitional stances and more.

When we originally published Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO, we had hired a graphic designer to do the layout work. His aesthetics involved lots of white space, which looks nice, but is also kind of a waste of paper. So, in our new book, aesthetic white space gone. We've squeezed as much as we can into the pages in our desire to give you a real treasure for your study and learning.

You know how there are easter eggs and such in movies? Well, the equivalent in this book will be watching us grow old. The photos cover some 20 years, so, you can watch our hair grey and our waistlines grow. And let that be an encouragement to you. Ours is a lifetime study, with so much more to learn.

I'm excited.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

CT

Kobu-jitsu Masterclass

I'd love to have you attend a training I'm offering on sai and bo. I promise two things: it won't look like what others teach, and it will make perfect sense.

Hope you can join us.

CT

The Importance of Being Uke

Chris Martingilio uke-ing for Will Higginbotham

Mike Mellgren uke-ing for Will Higginbotham

My daughter, April, grew up around martial arts, but didn't engage in formal training until she became an adult (I did insist she have some self-defense training). But, her entire exposure to martial arts, from childhood up has been our methods and theories, and it made a difference. When she was just a green belt, we were at a seminar with my teacher, Sensei George Dillman. The group was practicing a tuité technique and April was partnering with a tall, male, white belt. Being a male, he couldn't let a small woman put him in pain, so he was resisting the application of the technique. When April felt the resistance, she treated it as ordinary training and (in the way we always practice)immediately kicked her partner on Sp-11 to break his structure. He folded over, and she applied her technique – it was nothing special. (HE was shocked and dismayed, and Sensei was impressed, telling me, "Your daughter is very well trained!")

All of our training is that way. You just do it, layering principles and concepts in order overcome resistance. And to train this way, we have to be good training partners, attacking with intent, receiving our partner's counters so that good technique is nothing special.

Recently, after teaching a class to a group of newcomers to our principles, I asked April for her impressions. "They kept backing away," she said. We have often seen this, people wanting to know, but not wanting to feel. I can remember trying to teach a man, who panic stricken, backed away saying, "Don't DO it on me, it hurts." One of his colleagues laughed at him and said, "That's why it's called a MARTIAL art."

So, I have a saying – See it, feel it, do it. – which describes my learning philosophy. First you must "see it", observe, watch, pay attention to what is happening, how the technique is being performed, watching for nuance. This also means to listen to the explanation given by the teacher. But, there is a word of caution here. A good teacher will tell you what he or she is doing, though maybe not everything. If you are watching carefully, you can pickup the things the teacher is not saying, things which are intended for a later lesson. A bad teacher however, if that bad teacher is a decent martial artist, will tend to tell you something which is different from what the teacher is doing. A bad teacher simply passes on the script which she or he heard from another teacher. But, the bad teacher has never reverse-engineered the technique to understand what is actually happening. So, the old saying, do what I do, not what I say, applies to this phase of learning. Do what you observe, especially if that differs from what you are told.

Second, you must feel it. If you can understand how the technique works from within your own body, then it becomes easy to manipulate your opponent's body. There are three main ways to gain this skill. One: to the extent it is possible, practice on yourself. Much can be learned by poking, prodding, twisting and manipulating your own joints and points. Two: when working with a partner, help your partner make the technique work better on you by literally telling him/her how to create more pain in you. Three: (and this is the most useful step) volunteer to be the uke for the senior teachers. (Uke is the person on whom the teacher demonstrates a technique. The term means "one who receives", and is properly pronounced "oo-kay" though Americans commonly pronounce it "oo-kee".)

Chris Martingilio and Mike Mellgren waste no time stepping up to volunteer as uke for whichever senior is instructing. By allowing the senior to demonstrate on them, they get to feel how a move is supposed to be applied, and they pick up subtleties that others miss. So, while many around are backing away, grateful that Chris and Mike are being subjected to the pain, they are wisely enjoying a level of learning that the others are unaware of (otherwise, there would be a line of people asking to be uke). Now, I do admit that as the old man and the senior, it's nice to not have to act as uke much any more. But, I am ever so grateful for the years I was on the receiving end of Sensei's techniques, and I applaud Chris's and Mike's choice to step up often.

Third, and last, you must actually do it. How can you know that a knockout is possible unless you have performed knockouts? How can you know what correct application feels like unless you do it. Kyusho-jitsu and tuité are not primarily theoretical (despite the time and energy which goes into learning and understanding the theory). They are practical, in the hands as much or more than in the head. In the end, this knowledge requires hands-on training, and lots of it. In the end, there is no substitute for practice. So, see it, feel it, do it.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

CT

Even Masters Have More to Learn

I have always been impressed by the eagerness of my sensei (George Dillman) to learn more and understand better. I saw the same quality in Professor Wally Jay. And, I hope I have something of that in me, as well. Maybe that is the quality which all masters must have to be masters. If so, I got to witness it in some senior Korean masters. You see, A few days of ago, I taught a group of very high ranking Taekwondo practitioners. At least one of them was from the Korean Tigers team (check them out on You Tube). And others were prominent competitors, coaches and teachers.

What was interesting for me was the eagerness of these masters to learn the techniques and principles of kyusho-jitsu and bunkai. For three hours, they peppered me with questions about their forms, and were delighted at what the movements represented. The experience showed me again how truly profound the teachings we (DKI/KJK) share are. And it showed me again how valuable our teachings are for those who have passed their competitive years. So, I guess the lesson is, keep studying, keep learning, keep working.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

CT

Wally Jay, June 16, 1917 - May 29, 2011

I was at George Dillman’s Martial Arts Training Camp for a weekend training session. I knew before arriving – all of us knew – that Professor Wally Jay had been hospitalized for a stroke. I asked Sensei Dillman, “Is there any news on Wally?” (“Wally” – it says something about the man that one of the most respected teachers in the world was spoken of in such a familiar fashion.) “It doesn’t look good,” George replied. So, I was not surprised when I walked into his office Sunday morning to ask a question, only to find him sitting behind his desk with tears in his eyes. “Wally died,” he told me.

Since I am a clergyman, I led an impromptu funeral service at the camp, interrupting the training to announce the news. So many of the senior instructors present knew Wally, some very well. Those who didn’t know Wally himself, know Leon Jay, Wally’s son, and heir of Small Circle Jujitsu, so there was much emotion in the room. For those of you who were not present, I would like to share something of our service (as accurately as my memory permits).

Will Higginbotham, who was very close to Wally, was teaching. I walked up with a paper napkin in my hand, as he was saying to the group, “Ok, let’s get up and try that.” “No,” I said, handing Will the napkin (we knew he would be crying), “We have learned that Professor Wally Jay died during the early hours of this morning.” Stunned (but not surprised) silence fell on everyone. Then I read a few words from the apostle Paul: “The things that I have taught to you, teach to reliable individuals who will be able to teach it to others also.”

“We are the people Professor taught, it is our responsibility to teach others also. But, it is not just about his jujitsu. Wally Jay was a remarkable human being and we must teach those values as well. I would like to tell you the story of when I first met Wally. It was during a combined Wally Jay/George Dillman seminar. At one point, we were practicing one of sensei Dillman’s joint manipulation techniques. Unfamiliar with the particular movement being practiced, Professor Jay walked over to the nearest of Dillman’s students (who happened to be me) and said, ‘Show me how to do that.’ I was deeply impressed by the fact that there was no ego in the way of the Professor’s desire to learn something he didn’t already know, and how willing he was to learn from anyone.”

I then asked the senior teachers to share one story about Professor. Will Higginbotham spoke about a call he received from Professor. “He called me and said he wanted to come to my house for a couple of days before teaching a seminar. He arrived with his notebook in hand, and began asking me questions.” For two days, Wally pumped Higginbotham for information on pressure points – occasionally stopping to show Higginbotham same nuance or subtlety of Small Circle Jujitsu. “I was honored to be receiving such instruction from Professor. But, it was Professor Jay who took my hand and said, ‘Thank you for teaching me.’”

Ken Smith, one of Professor Remy Presas’ most senior students echoed the sentiment. “The first time I met Wally Jay was at a Wally Jay/Remy Presas seminar. We were training sinawali, and Wally picked up a pair of sticks. Remy said to me, ‘Ken, you go teach Wally.’ So, I went over to teach Wally Jay, shaking with fear. While we were practicing, Wally accidentally hit me in the hand, but that was ok. Then, a little later, I accidentally hit Wally Jay in the hand. I felt so bad, and was apologizing, but Wally just smiled, and said, ‘Don’t worry, soon we will be putting down the sticks, and then it will be my turn.’” Ken’s final words were, “Now Remy has a training partner with him in heaven.”

Kim Dillman Foreman remembered when Wally, Remy and George began to first do their big three seminars. “I would get up, and Remy and Wally would already be up, trading techniques and information. And because I was up first, I got to be the designated uke. Wally was such a kind and gracious man, he was like a father to so many of us.”

Matt Brown, another of Dillman’s senior students, spoke of a time (the last time) when Wally had been at the Dillman training camp. The topic of training had included work on “toate” (methods of affecting a person without physical contact). Students were working on moving each other by projecting energy. Matt said, “Wally comes up to me and says, ‘Matt, see if that works on me.’ So, I was trying to move Wally using my chi. ‘Is it working, Professor?’ I asked. ‘I can’t tell,’ Wally responded. ‘I’m 85 years old, I always sway back and forth.’”

Then it came George Dillman's turn to speak. At first sensei couldn’t say anything, but only covered his face with his hands. Then, with tear streaked cheeks and a smile of happy memories he told us, “If you knew Wally and Bernice, you knew they always over-packed for a trip. So a couple of younger guys had been helping carry these large bags of luggage to the hotel room. Wally had unzipped a bag part way and was starting to unpack, when they asked him his secret to living so long and with such vitality. ‘First, you must live a healthy life,’ he told them. ‘Don’t smoke and don’t drink.’ But Wally’s bag was so heavy it was unzipping itself, and as he was telling them about healthy living, out fell a big bag of Snickers bars. I laughed at him, and he looked at me and said, ‘You gotta have at least one vice.’ After that, I called some of my students, and told them that they should bring Wally bags of Snickers Bars when they picked him up at the airport. So then Wally called me and said, ‘You told them!’

“And another time, we were were teaching a seminar together in Minnesota. Wally had this one guy in a leg lock. His other leg was on the floor, and I said, ‘I think you can knock him out!’ ‘How?’ said Wally. I told him to stomp the leg on the floor, hitting along the spleen meridian. ‘But what if he get’s hurt?’ Wally asked. ‘That’s ok.’ I said, ‘I’ll tell ‘em that you did it.’”

That story made me smile, because I was the guy Wally had in a leg lock.

I finished our impromptu service by reminding everyone of the scripture that tells us, “There is a time to be born and a time to die.” I followed with a prayer, entrusting Wally’s soul to the mercy of our Creator, expressing our faith that our lives continue in God’s love, and asking for God’s comfort upon Wally’s family and all who mourn his passing. Then I reminded everyone again that it was our responsibility to preserve and pass on Professor’s teachings and example. And, with the final Amen, I said, “We need to honor Wally Jay, now, by practicing finger locks.” And so, we returned to our training, focusing on the small circle concepts that had become so central to our practice of pressure point methods and joint manipulation. And we all, like sensei Dillman, smiled with tear-filled eyes as we celebrated Wally Jay in his teachings.

Sai-jitsu

A while ago, when I taught a sai-jitsu seminar, I learned that one attendee would be a teacher from one of those American-Karate-Black-Belt-Schools-of-Excellence-of-America schools. I figured the poor guy would be completely and hopelessly lost when exposed to genuine classical sai usage (as opposed to competition flash). So, I was watching for him to arrive, and he did. But, then I noticed his sai, not holographic toys, but actually decent Shureido® brand.

I went up to talk with him, and he told me that he had wanted to supplement his contemporary American Competition Karate Style with something traditional. So, he began to study a solid and very legitimate kobudo system. I figured he would be right at home during the training. Well, that was almost true.

During the seminar, I taught methods of the sai which are in accordance to the nature and shape of the weapon. However, these methods differ considerably from what is typically taught. So, my traditionally trained guest was stunned and dismayed to be performing the exact movement he was taught, but to devastating effect, (finding that even the subtle aspects of the movement were integral to the technique).

What is significant is that classical sai methods are very obvious (once you have been shown them, it is like, "Duh!") and kind of easy to perform (the weapon does the work). My experience is that, once a person learns the classical use of a weapon – any weapon, really – it becomes incredibly easy to understand how most weapons are to be used. And reading the kata becomes pretty easy. However, classical weapons use is not cool, not flashy, and not nice – just real.

I'll be teaching classical methods for bo and sai in Romeoville, IL, on May 14. Join me if you can (brown & black belts only for the sai-jitsu training). Until then, thanks for reading.

Now, go train.

CT

Managing Dan Rank

The management of dan rank is difficult in any group. For example, how should we handle the person who has trained for a long time, but hasn't attained the skill or understanding to receive a promotion? Should a black belt be awarded on the basis of years of training? And what about the economic needs of the school to use ranking as a means of student retention? (When asked by a senior student about the rank awarded to an unqualified individual, one Grandmaster commented, "Oh, that is just business.") And what about the individual who thinks they deserve the rank, even though the testing authority has not agreed? (I have seen people become angry at the testing board for not passing them, rather than asking why they have not risen to the standard.) And what of the rank-chasers, those who go from group to group, enticed into a new organization with the promise of promotion? (By the way, I've been accused of being a rank-chaser. Oh well.)

Organizationally, rank is a complication as well. Promotion can both help and hurt a group's growth. For example, if a group is reaching into a new area of the world (the way DKI – Dillman Karate International – has) it is common for the first person of rank who joins to become the local head, and to receive a rank indicating that position of leadership. But, often, as others join, much better practitioners become part of the group, yet, they are given lower rankings so they do not seem like a threat the the leader.

And, who should decide rank in an organization, anyway? Should the individual teacher have authority over his or her student's rank? Should the head of the organization make the decision? Should the organization itself, through a testing board, be the sole arbiter of rank?

Within the gathering of my own students, I decided to try a hybrid approach. I hold my students responsible for overseeing the ranking of their own students up to the rank of nidan. But then, for sandan, every candidate must test before our board, and no sandan rank is issued without the board test. (And, I hold myself to this standard and refuse to issue any sandan rank on my own.) In this way, we try to create a "choke point", a place where all advancing students are subjected to a quality assurance measure. This helps the organization to insure that similarly ranked students in different schools and clubs have similar skill sets, knowledge levels and technical abilities. This helps different teachers to evaluate their students against the students of other teachers, in order to identify areas of instruction where improvement is needed. And this helps the individual student to know that, upon passing and promotion, their sandan rank legitimately represents a genuine achievement.

Our testing board is assembled in two parts, the evaluation team and the grading team.

The evaluation team is composed of 4th - 6th dans. They evaluate the candidates' performance on objective and specific criteria. Candidates are judged on technical skill (correctness of movement, body mechanics and technique); on application competency (the ability to demonstrate actual ability against an opponent in both the fixed settings of kata breakdown, and the dynamic setting of the stress drill bogu-randori); and knowledge of the required areas of content (kyusho-jitsu and tuité-jitsu). After the test the scores are tallied and the determination is made whether the candidate has passed the evaluation portion of the test. The first-time candidate cannot receive promotion without passing the evaluation portion, but, passing the evaluation portion is not a guarantee of promotion.

The grading team is composed of 7th dan and above, and has the task of determining the actual rank a passing candidate receives. This is because we are sometimes receiving people into the group who already have years of experience in the martial arts. We need them to go through the sandan board test as a way of insuring that they have the skills to represent DKI, but, if they have the years of training and the level of skill to warrant a rank higher than sandan, it is not appropriate to under-rank for the sake of some kind of rite of passage.

I mentioned that a person cannot be promoted on their first board test unless they pass the evaluation portion. However, there is more to rank than simple fulfillment of a set of technical requirements. For example, everyone has some physical limitation which interferes with their ability to perform exactly. Part of mastery in the martial arts is overcoming our limitations and finding effective ways to compensate for our weaknesses. So, sometimes truly great martial artists have very poor skills in certain areas. How can they be properly rated? And this is also part of the role of the grading team. As senior instructors, the grading team members have the skills to evaluate the bigger picture, to measure the martial artist as a whole. So, the grading team, after consultation with the evaluation team, makes the final determination on pass/fail for returning candidates. And those candidates can be promoted even if they come short on the technical portions, provided that their overall performance reveals that they have the competency which corresponds to the rank.

Our theory is that this combination of functions allows us to balance objective quality control with respect to specific content and competencies, against a more global view of the entire martial artist. But, in the process, we have also found that the board itself must grow. In order for criteria to be fairly and consistently applied, the graders have had to receive training in what they are grading and what they are looking for. We have developed a specific testing procedure, scoring sheet for the evaluation team, and clearly articulated roles for the examiners to try to standardize the testing process (so each candidate "takes the same test"). And here, again, balance has become an issue.

What is it we are after, martial artists who can mimic a set of expectations, or martial artists who have a creative grasp of the material? We need for the candidates to have solid technical skills (for the sake of quality control and maximum growth) but we also need for them to demonstrate the less quantifiable attributes of creativity and flexibility in performance. As a result, our testing procedure includes major sections of open demonstration (kata bunkai portions), during which the candidate demonstrates for the board whatever the candidate chooses, rather than performing a preset group of techniques. So, we have had candidates demonstrate application of kata wearing (and utilizing in the bunkai) law enforcement gear, demonstrate empty hand kata bunkai as cross-interpreted with Modern Arnis, demonstrate standing kata movements as ground grappling, demonstrate novel pressure point knockouts and surprising takes on movement and use. And every test ends with the question, "Is there anything else you would like to show us or demonstrate?" – a chance for candidates to share areas of additional knowledge and skill.

Our sandan test is very challenging, and many candidates do not pass (though many return to try again), but, it does assure that I present to my Sensei only those who can truly represent what Dillman Karate International is all about. And it also insures that within DKI, KJK is known as a source and center of excellence.

Thanks for reading, now go train.

CT