Demonic Martial Arts

There are pastors who study martial arts, but not many who have studied for decades. So, I am among a rare few. (I am happy to say that I belong to that same small group of long-time martial arts practitioners/clergy as Black Belt Hall of Fame member Leo Fong. Rev. Fong is a retired clergy member of the same denomination of which I am a not-yet-retired clergy member.) This is why I am often approached with questions about Christianity and martial arts – usually, the phrase "how do you reconcile..." is used.

Generally, the questioners fall into one of two groups. One group of questioners , having been challenged in their practice by folks with a liberal or Quaker bias, wonders about reconciling martial arts practice with teachings of non-violence. The answer is simple, You can't. If Jesus taught pacifism – the absolute requirement that one never act violently toward another human being – then it is impossible to be a martial artist and be a Christian. Even the mere practice of martial arts (without any intention to actually use the skills learned) would be the cultivation of a violent heart.

But, I am a martial artist of 40 years. Clearly, I am no pacifist. I do not think that Jesus taught pacifism (as an absolute approach to life). And I do believe that sometimes an act of violence is a loving act. For example, if I were to come upon a woman being raped, I would intervene with violence because I would be acting in a loving way toward her. And I would also be acting in a loving way toward the rapist (the person upon whom I would be inflicting the violence) in as much as I am stopping him from committing a heinous sin. Likewise, if someone attacks me, and I defend myself, I am acting lovingly toward myself, and, by thwarting my attacker, I am acting lovingly toward him.

Having said that, I make three cautions. First, to accept a slap and not retaliate is the only sure way to topple an empire. Second, violence is overrated. It usually is the lazy-politicians solution to a problem, and the bully's sure proof of inner weakness. Every true martial artist knows that restraint is far more effective than blows. Third, the only valid use of violence is to stop the violent actions of the violent.

The second group of questioners, having been challenged in their practice by folks with a conservative or fundamentalist bias, wonders about martial arts practice being incompatible with Christian teaching because the martial arts are somehow demonic. To this I would make the simple observation that the measure of true evil is the harm it causes. By this measure there truly is a demonic martial art. It is an art that allows one to kill many people with virtually no effort, no discipline, no training, no practice. It allows great harm to be inflicted on others without ever having to learn control, restraint, or the simple truth of what it feels like to be on the receiving end.

Karate, aikido, tai chi chuan, taekwondo, and the rest do not even come close to fitting this definition. How can we tell? Simple: have you EVER heard of an outcast high schooler killing a dozen classmates with his karate skills? Have you ever heard of a broken-hearted lover killing coeds from atop a clock-tower using his ninja shuriken? Have you ever heard of a disgruntled employee "going postal" with his nunchaku?

You never have, and you never will. But, that disgruntled employee can walk into a gun-shop today, and be killing co-workers tomorrow. Now, I am not anti-gun. But, considering what we know to be true in this country (something like 15,000 gun-deaths per year, and how many "karate killings"? – 0?) it is just nonsense for anyone to hassle a hard working martial artist with accusations that somehow studying a martial art is in anyway akin to worshipping the devil.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

My Approach to Teaching Self Defense

I was reading a military hand-to-hand (H2H) training manual, and recognized that the program had been influenced by the Filipino martial arts. One chapter covered the 12 angles of attack, showing the angles with knife, then fairly standard Filipino patterns for dealing with knife attacks bare-handed. The next chapter showed the 12 angles of attack with fixed bayonet. Then it showed defenses against those angles. But, here was the problem, the manual showed completely different ways of dealing with the bayonet than the methods for dealing with knife. In other words, they showed twelve angles of attack, and 24 different responses to attacks along those lines. And it got even worse. As I went through the book, I counted some 75 unique techniques. And this was supposed to be the basic military training manual.

Most training programs are developed in a similar fashion. They consist of handfuls of tricks and techniques designed to solve a variety of situations or attacks. So, the usual "basic" self-defense or H2H course consists 20 or so common self-defense scenarios, each with a unique solution. If your attacker does this you, do that; if your attacker does such, you do so. One solution to each scenario. I call this approach Single Scenario Tactical Solutions (SSTS). Of course, the trained martial artist usually has dozens of solutions to any given tactical scenario. That's what competency is all about. However, when training non-martial artists in short term courses for self-defense or unarmed combat, this is a ridiculous approach.

Instead, the approach I advocate is to teach a simple curriculum that handles a variety of scenarios with the one basic skill set. This is called a Multiple Scenario Tactical Solution (MSTS). I teach this concept using a basic, four step action, which is then applied against a wide spectrum of attacks. I teach the basic sequence starting with a simple assault scenario, like a front choke. Then, I teach people to apply this same solution up against a wall, or in a chair, or on the ground. The next step is to apply this simple response against punches, varying grabs, even knife and gun assaults (depending on the group).

The specific curriculum I utilize I call Flux (for Flexible-Application Unarmed Combat Skill). It is easily adapted for a variety of different populations, from civilian to professional applications. And while the different populations require slightly different elements, the over-all concept and underlying principles are the same.

This is such a simple approach that many martial artists have a sense of discomfort when they see it. "Yeah, but what about XYZ techniques?" They wonder. Think of it this way – a maker of fine furniture has many tools which are only used in one single step in the process of making a piece. But, if I have a hammer, a saw, some nails and some lumber, I can make a table. It won't be pretty, but it will hold up my dinner plate. In the same way, as martial artists we have many very elegant ways of dealing with different attacks. But, a woman who takes a self defense class doesn't have the time to learn elegant solutions. She needs a couple of things that will work well-enough to use as her response to whatever comes her way.

And, of course, my simple four-step solutions can't solve every problem. But, I would rather teach something simple that can deal with 25 different problems, than teach 25 solutions which each can only deal with one problem.

Well, thanks for reading.

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Anyone Can Beat Anyone

Years ago, I was lifting my daughter from the floor. She helped by jumping as I lifted, and our combined energy drove her head into mine – head butt. She was fine. I, one the other hand, was staggered. That event (combined with a similar story when my son was an infant and my groin was much younger) led me to understand an important principle of combat: Anyone can beat anyone.

Think about it another way – we have the best trained, best equipped military in the world. The Taliban, on the other hand, are basically medieval tribesman with very modest weaponry (AK-47's, RPG's, IED's). This being the case, we nonetheless hear about regular troop losses. As great as our troops are, they can still be ambushed.

It turns out, there is no such thing as invulnerability. I know that invulnerability is often what we seek when we are beginning our training. We have watched Zatoichi slice his way through dozens of assailants. We have watched Bruce Lee dispatch numerous enemies. And we have watched many a martial arts demo in which the defender dramatically emerges victorious from all kinds of attacks. But all of that is fantasy. The reality is anyone can beat anyone.

I learned a long time ago how difficult this fact is to accept. I taught a 2 week self-defense course in a High School co-ed gym class. When I taught some blunt trauma things, I found that the young men loved it, but the women had trouble relating. When I taught finger locks, everything changed. The young women suddenly felt empowered, and the young men couldn't handle the humiliation of being easily put on the ground by the young women.

Here's how I knew they couldn't handle the humiliation – the teacher told the students that for the first week I was around, they had to participate; but the second week, they could choose between the self-defense training or going to the weight room to pump iron. Inevitably, week two, all the guys fled. Yeah, they couldn't deal.

Those high schoolers were not unusual – accepting the truth of vulnerability is harder for men, because our culture tells us we are supposed to be strong and mighty. If a man is humiliated by an overwhelming force, the question often asked is, why did you allow this to happen? Women are almost always facing an overwhelming force when they are assailed, and so, women are more familiar with the experience of vulnerability. But, even so, when women are victimized they are still often asked, why did you let this happen?

I was with my sensei (George Dillman) recently. As is often the case, he invited participants to demonstrate knock-outs. Among the demonstrators were several children – children, who then knocked out adults. And there it was again – anyone can beat anyone. I train an art that works as well on me as it does on others. I train an art in which I am as vulnerable to a beginner as that beginner is to me. I train an art in which I have experienced over and over the ease with which I can be defeated, and the ease with which I can defeat others. And this has changed how I approach things.

I used to adopt a strong kamae, an en garde position with fists held protectively and body positioned against attack. Now, I adopt an open, welcoming posture, as if I want to give a hug. I do not push the attack away, I invite it in. I accept that the attack comes; I accept that I will be injured; I accept that I can be defeated. And accepting these things empowers me to act without fear, without worrying about the bad stuff that might happen, but rather, to focus on the simple task of fighting back.

I will write on this stuff more in the future, on the concepts of "rescripting" and "welcoming" but I wanted to start here – I wanted you to understand that I begin, not from a posture of strength or one of defensiveness, but from a place of acceptance.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

Dancing with the Dark Side

Let me continue a bit on the discussion of my last post:

I had an interesting conversation with a member of my group (Kyusho-jitsu Kenkyukai, KJK for short). He was telling me about how troubling an experience it is when you realize that you have both the skills to take a life, and the will necessary to employ those skills. It is the moment when you become the kind of person who is actually capable of killing.

Most of us start martial arts training because of a fantasy about martial arts. We imagine we are going to learn what the movie ratings people call "stylized violence." Stylized violence is noble, fair, cool, exciting, even fun. Real violence is messy and brutal. At some point, the true martial artist must come to grips with this messy, brutal reality. I call this "dancing with the dark side."

In order to be true martial artists, we must accept violence, accept that we are studying methods whose purpose is ultimately the harm of other human beings, accept that we have the capacity to cause such harm.

This applies even to our training. To do a pressure point knock out, one has to accept that – safe as they are to perform – our training partners might be injured. And, when we practice the more dangerous techniques (toate-no-waza being among the more dangerous) we have to accept that someone might be hurt, and be willing for our training partners to suffer harm at our hands.

This is a difficult step in the development of a martial artist. It involves finding a way to accept violence, finding the capacity to commit violence, finding the willingness to act violently, and finding the ability to control that violence. It means learning how to resolve the warrior's contradiction – to be able to kill when necessary without becoming a mere killer, to be able to cause injury to others while maintaining the strength of character to never cause such injury unless it is absolutely necessary and right. It is brutal power coupled with moral control, and it is a difficult task to master.

Now, most people who practice a martial art never face this challenge. They practice their fantasy of stylized violence, imagining confrontations which result in winning without any harm, and without feelings of sorrow, or regret on their part. They imagine victory without cost, victory which results in everyone becoming friends and drinking tea together. And maybe that is fine for them, but I practice a classical art – tode-jitsu – an art which is about the reality of conflict and the desire to somehow survive such a reality with one's life and character intact. I practice an art which is, at its heart, about dancing with the dark side.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Christ Thomas

It Helps to Not Give a Sh*t

Back in 1997, DKI member and physician Chaz Terry helped set up a small investigatory study of pressure point techniques which was conducted at University of Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia. My account was published in Black Belt Magazine (click here to read the article) and as a chapter of Humane Pressure Point Self-Defense. I was present for the sole purpose of recording and writing about the event. So, I did not participate directly in the process. But, I had the best seat in the house.

The room was cold, lit with fluorescents and generally "institutional". Each subject to be knocked out was wired up with electrodes to monitor such things as brain waves, heart rhythms, blood pressure, and so on. This took 20 minutes. Then the subject would stand on a wrestling mat (a safety precaution) while "pre-strike" data was gathered. Cameras were synced to medical monitoring devices and time was spent waiting for everything to be ready. Then, the person who was performing the strike was told to proceed, but, oh, not too forcefully because we don't want to dislodge any wires, and be careful not to cause too much movement because that creates artifact, now go ahead and knock him out.

This was an incredibly stressful setting in which to do anything. Those doing the striking were out of their element, anxious, being asked to think about more than just the technique itself. Not surprisingly, many had some difficulty with their techniques. When this would happen, when the simple craziness of the setting got in the way, and someone would fail in performing an effective knock out, George Dillman would say, "Ed, you do it."

"Ed" is my colleague Ed Lake. And Ed would do it. He would walk up and "bam" the subject would hit the ground.

At one point, Dillman-sensei was speaking to one of those struggling to get the knock out to work. "Do it like Ed!" He said. "But, Ed doesn't give a sh*t!" came the reply.

This is an important observation. When striking a pressure point, it can be our own anxieties and concerns which keep the technique from working. We hinder our energy from flowing. We worry that we won't be able to succeed, so we don't. We worry that our uke (the person who receives our knock out technique) will be injured, so we fail. We strike too hard, or not hard enough, while holding back our intent, our energy, because of all our concerns, all our fears, all our issues of ego and morality, all of our thoughts about "what if it doesn't work" and "what if it does."

It helps to "not give a sh*t." It helps to have clarity of intent – action without concern for all of the possible, undesired outcomes. Such an attitude increases the possibility of success because there is nothing to hold one back from success.

Of course, my problem is that I do "give a sh*t." All sorts of concerns, fears, worries, etc., plague my thoughts, and clamor for my attention. And I become, worried, fearful, anxious, ego-invested and the like. I become weighed down with the detritus of my own emotional baggage, and divide from singularity of purpose by a cacophony of mental chattering.

Of course, it is easy to say, "Do it like Ed!" It is easy to tell myself that I shouldn't be distracted by inner conflict, shouldn't be bogged down with useless concerns, shouldn't give a sh*t. Yeah, easy to tell myself, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. All the useless stuff is still there. Instead, I have to make it irrelevant. So, I have taken tactical approach.

Anyone who trains with me will often hear me talk about redundancy. The idea of redundancy is this, "If you screw up your technique, it should still work pretty good." This is why I seem to put pressure points at the end of the line. I believe the pressure points are incredibly important – I want to guarantee that things will always work.

Imagine it like this: Someone grabs me and I begin my defense. In that slow motion of crisis, the thought goes through my mind, "Gee, I hope this works." Suddenly, I am invested in a particular outcome and I give a sh*t. "What if a miss the pressure point? What if I don't hit with enough energy? What if I hit too hard? What i he is resistant on that point and I should have aimed for another?" Suddenly, in that moment, the fear and anxiety hit. My chi and my anal sphincter pucker and withdraw – and I have defeated myself. But, if my technique is sound, if it is redundant, certain to work well even if I screw it up, then I think, "Doesn't matter, even if I miss the point, or it doesn't work right, I still get to hit him, and I still have the advantageous position, and I still have superior control, so it will be fine." And suddenly, I don't give a sh*t anymore, because I have created the circumstances under which I am guaranteed a satisfying outcome. The result? I relax and my chi flows, and my technique works great.

If you want to read more about redundancy, you can read another article of mine in Black Betl (click here).

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Nunti-Bo

In Isshin-ryu we have three bo (long staff) kata. About 20 years ago I was pondering a particular characteristic of one of them. Let me see if I can explain this for you – If you marked one of a bo “right”, the other end “left”, and held it so that you had the “right” half in your right hand and the “left” half in your left hand, you could do two of the kata (Tokumine-no-kun & Urashi-no-kun) and your hands would stay on the proper side. In other words, these kata treat both ends of the bo as equal – when left side is forward, the “left” side of the bo is forward, and vice versa. This is what is known as “double end staff.”

However, in our third kata, called Shishi-no-kun-dai, it is different. This time, mark one end as “front” and the other as “back.” If you were to start the kata so that your right hand is on the front half of the weapon, you would find that whenever the right side is forward, the “front” is in the right hand, and whenever left side is forward the “front” is in the left hand. This means that, in Shishi-no-kun-dai, one end of the bo is clearly the front and the other the back.

So, I was pondering this, and I asked myself, “What’s special about the front end? Maybe that end is different somehow? What weapons are different on one end?” I considered the usual suspects, spear (yari), halberd (naginata), etc. But, among the uniquely Okinawan weapons, the one that stands out is called nunti-bo.

Nunti-bo is basically a bo with a sai on the end. But, the sai is a particular type of sai called nunti-sai, or manji-sai, which has a hook on one side, and a tine on the other. Attach it to the end of a bo, and you have a nunti bo. There has never been much material on the use of nunti-bo, but the few examples I have seen treat the weapon like a bo, with the extra benefit that the tine is used to catch an incoming strike in order to redirect an attack.

Anyway, there I was, those twenty or so years ago, performing Shishi-no-kun-dai, and imagining my bo was a nunti-bo. What happened was thrilling and terrifying. Instantly, all the movements of the kata made devastating sense; and instantly, I saw that nunti-bo was used in a manner which looked nothing like what people showed. And I became actually sick to my stomach. I was so accustomed to the “coolness” of martial arts, that I was unprepared for the brutal cruelty of weapon-based combat which the kata Shishi-no-kun-dai disclosed. Weapons work is for maiming and killing, pure and simple.

It took a few days for me to recover from the sense of revulsion I experienced, so that I could try my little thought experiment again (with the same results, the kata made absolute sense). So, I purchased a nunti-bo, and started practicing Shishi-no-kun-dai. With my imagination replaced by the actual implement, the kata revealed subtleties of handling that I hadn’t realized by visualization alone.

From that day on, I have practiced Shishi-no-kun-dai with nunti-bo. I have also come to recognize the occasional nunti-bo-specific movements in other bo forms. What has become evident to me is the historical function of these kata.

In feudal societies, there was minimal civilian law enforcement. Individual villages needed the ability to call up militia to deal with marauders and other threats. So, villages had traditional “war dances.” These contained the fundamentals of long-weapons fighting. (By the way, these local dances still exist today – brought out at festival times and performed for crowds, and, of course, they exist as kata practiced in the martial arts.)

So, most “bo” forms are actually “generic long-weapons forms.” And, because the staff is the most common tool available, most of the movements in these long-weapons forms are for the staff. But, villagers had other potential weapons, such as oars, hoes, rakes, etc., so, the forms also had to contain movements which applied to these implements. Once you become familiar with these weapons, you can recognize the specific techniques which don’t work well with the bo, but which are very effective with something else.

If a village had only one kata, it would follow the pattern described. But, if there was more than one kata from that village, the second form was likely to be specific to some other weapon. Knowledge of this second form might be limited to the person who was responsible for transmitting the village bo form to each generation (the village martial arts expert). This individual might also be the only person in the village who possessed a weapon which was actually a weapon, as opposed to a tool utilized for fighting. And, finally, this person might be the local constable. (Like the Japanese jutte, the sai and the nunti-bo functioned as law enforcement weapons and as symbols of legal authority – sai was both side-arm and badge.)

Shishi-no-kun-dai is such a number two kata. The number one kata is Shishi-no-kun-sho, a generic long-weapon kata, with characteristic double-end bo techniques. Shishi-no-kun-dai, the number two kata, is 100% nunti-bo.

So, for 20 years I have practiced Shishi-no-kun-dai as “Shishi-no-nunti-bo”, always with nunti-bo, instead of staff. As different Isshin-ryu practitioners come to train with me, I have the occasion to show this material to them. The shock of recognition flashes across their faces, and many of them (ok, most of them) purchase nunti-bo for their own training.

With Shishi-no-kun-dai as my nunti-bo teacher, I have learned that, contrary to the usual demonstration of the nunti-bo (as a tool for catching an incoming attack in the tine), it is actually not about the use of the tine much at all (though, there is a nifty sword disarm that is only possible because of the tine, and some clothing entanglement that depends on the tine). Predominantly, nunti-bo is about using the hook.

In a nutshell, the to use nunti-bo is to strike with the wooden portion of the weapon, just behind the metal manji-sai attachment, then pull hard so that the hook pulls into and tears flesh (gross, huh?). One of the most basic nunti-bo movements is downward angle strike (called kesa-uchi or uchi otoshi), pull, then thrust. The strike is aimed at the neck area, the pull digs the hook into the trapezius muscle and brachial plexus, the thrust frees the weapon from the opponent’s body. However, if the opponent blocks the strike, the pull hooks his weapon and pulls him forward, into an oncoming thrust.

That is just one example. But, if you pick up a nunti-bo, and think about the hook, you will see just how devastating a weapon it is. Better yet, learn Shishi-no-kun-dai and let it become your teacher.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

Chris Thomas

shotokan - download free pdf

Source: scribd.com

An article of mine which was published in Shotokan Karate Magazine, in July, 2004