Skeptic 2004

I've been trying to resist answering questions like this since they get asked a lot, but I guess I'll answer anyway. I spend roughly 15 hours a week in class, and perhaps an additional 2-5 hours outside of class (depending on my level of preoccupation with something I'd just learned in class). That aside, someone mentioned that they would train more often if their instructor allowed them. I would like to posit the proposition that if you desire to train so badly, that you should train outside of class as well. The hours your dojo is open should not limit the amount of time you choose to dedicate to your training. My schedule earlier in the year precluded me from being at the dojo every day like I am now...but I still put in roughly the same amount of time that I do now...between 15-20 hours a week. You can learn just as much if you practice outside of the dojo as you do inside of the dojo, assuming you have good critical thinking skills and have developed a good "kimochi" or feeling for what it is you're supposed to be doing. Okay...this was a little longer of an answer than necessary.

Short of actually training Shotokan, someone would be really hard pressed to have any other kind of way to evaluate it if their opinions couldn't be based on observation.... If I have spare time I might actually go train it just to see. The guys I watched were pretty high dans in JKA (the chief instructor is 8th dan). If their foundation is based on these "poor" body mechanics (short of actually training it, I really can't see the good derived from their movement, stances, and posture in places), that might explain a lot of what I observed. To addresss McShotokan worries, they share the dojo my club trains in (hence my ability to watch them practice), and I assure you they are not a McShotokan place. These guys are old school (and literally "old"...40's-50's-ish with the chief instructor in his late 60's), hardcore, traditional guys. But my observation of their movements still stands.

My observation of Shotokan is that it suffers from poor body mechanics. In an attempt to be powerful, the way I've seen Shotokan karateka move actually robs them of the very thing they seek. Their stances deadlock the transfer of weight and energy into what otherwise would be really strong techniques. It looks good, and I've seen Shotokan guys train HARD, but in the end they are their own worst enemies in terms of moving and execution, based purely on what I've seen.

I apologize for the double post, but something someone said just struck me like a brick falling off a house. There are actually three main patsai/bassai kata (the other 23 versions you may have found are most likely alterations of these three). There's the Tomari or Classical Patsai which I believe is the original version of the kata. There's Matsumura Patsai which is the version developed by Sokon "Bushi" Matsumura. Then there's Itosu Patsai, a version of Patsai that Itosu created after learning both the Tomari and Matsumura versions. In the Shorin styles and their derivatives, Patsai Sho is most likely Itosu Patsai; Patsai Dai is most likely Matsumura Patsai. If the Shotokan website videos referred to above are accurate, then in Shotokan this order is switched (i.e. Bassai Dai = Itosu Patsai, etc.). In the Hohan Soken lineage, Patsai Sho is the Tomari Patsai and Patsai Dai is Matsumura Patsai. With styles that have only one version of Patsai, it's more than likely Tomari Patsai (from the other derivative styles I've seen). Not to throw us off topic from Jiin and all, but that statement sort of bugged me all day today.

Chibana used to teach Jiin as an "option" kata in addition to his standard curriculum (Kihon, Naihanchi's, Pinan's, Patsai's, Kusanku's, Chinto). This doesn't make it a Shorin-Ryu kata, but it obviously can be done Shorin-Ryu style. From what I understand, there is (was?) more of a Tomari-te influence in Jiin. My instructor hasn't had me do Jiin yet, but if the Shotokan version linked above is indictative of the basic Jiin movements, than the only similarity with Jion (an "option" kata I'm currently learning) would be the opening. As an interesting sidenote, for those of you familar with the Shinken Taira lineage of Kobudo, the basic pattern for Maezato no Tekko is derived from the basic pattern of Jiin.

I don't mean to dump on anyone here, and I recognize the person posing the question is a new guy, but this is one of those questions that tends to cycle through here rather repeatedly. I would like to advocate the use of the SEARCH button. Using the SEARCH button, in about 2 minutes, I found the following threads with this exact same question worded a little differently: "How fast did you get your black belt?" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=17993&highlight=long+black+belt "How long SHOULD it take for your black belt?" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=19948&highlight=long+black+belt "How long did it take for your black belt?" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=13870&highlight=long+black+belt "My friend got his brown belt in less than a year in TKD" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=19650&highlight=long+black+belt "Just how long does it take....?" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=17221&highlight=long+black+belt "How long did it take to get your black belt?" http://www.karateforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=17223&highlight=long+black+belt The moral of the story: SEARCH before you ask. For those who have been around for a while, when someone asks a tried and true question, refer them to a previous thread. The same questions get rather old after a while.

Karate25 - I'll speak for Shorin Ryuu and say, "Yes, he does." We both learned them from a Matsumura Seito Ryu instructor. Speaking of which, I've been remiss in not practicing these.... Uh...ditto on everything that's been said about Hakutsuru. I'd also like to add that I've had some strange "ki" experiences practicing Hakutsuru (read: my brain is very good at playing tricks on me). I'm not sure what the movements do as far as bloodflow goes, but I've seen and felt many a strange thing after doing the So, Tan, and San He drills and Hakutsuru Sho.

Capoeira has grown in popularity (at least there's quite a number of places that teach Capoeira here in Hawai'i) to the point where literature is beginning to emerge that people can read-up on. If you want to educate yourself on it, there is some well researched literature on it by Nestor Capoeira in a book called Capoeira: Roots of the Dance-Fight-Game. The book details the philosophy of capoeira, its tumultous history, and outlines some exercises and techniques. The book is also a brief history lesson on Brazil which I found eye-opening. He's also written a book called The Little Capoeira Book which preceded his Capoeira. It's much shorter (130 or so pages compared to his follow up which is 340 pages).

I learned some Hakutsuru drills from a Mastumura instructor as well as Mastumura Hakutsuru Sho. Hakutsuru is also a dance, and casual observation of the various Hakutsuru kata reveal some of the dance elements in it. At this point, I'm still trying to determine which came first: the dance or the fighting system. My instructor insists it was a dance first, but I have my doubts. I'm not educated enough in it to hazard a guess.

Historically, while a dance-fight-game, capoeira had many fighting applications. Capoeira was maintained mostly by gangs and criminals during the Underground Period (1892-1930) when the practice of capoeira was outlawed in Brazil's first penal code in 1892. Remember, slavery in Brazil didn't end until 1888, and before the 1892 law, capoeira exploded onto the scene with the freedom of the slaves. Capoeira crowded Brazil's urban centers, but because it was practiced by the "riff-raff" (aka African descendants, Indians, etc.) the police was often summoned (that and the criminal element tended to terrorize the population). When police tried to break up a roda, they usually got their butts handed to them by all involved. It wasn't until Capoeira was officially illegal in 1892 that the police had the authority to charge in fully to suppress it. By then, Capoeirasta's learned how to hide knives and straight razors on their persons and would use them skillfully in a fight. For the next 38 years, Capoeirastas gave the police a run for their money. Granted, the Capoeira practiced now is significantly different from the Capoeira practiced during and after the Underground Period (my impression is that it's been watered down to make it less lethal than it used to be), but history alone suggests that Capoeira if applied properly is fighting effective.

I'll second Sauzin. Many TKD schools have strayed far from their roots. Early in my training I met a traditionally trained TKD-ka (something I'd later find out was rare. I've only met 2), and he was one of the most impressive martial artist's I'd ever seen, so much so that I trained TKD for a while with him as my role model. I was disappointed to discover during the brief 2 months I gave TKD a go that it was rife with really bad body mechanics and poor fighting/self defense strategy, at least at the place I was training. I attribute these two failures first and foremost to abandoning its kata roots, and secondly to its predominant focus on tournament fighting - I had a penchant for walking right up to my opponent, absorbing his weak and off-balance kick as he was completely weirded out by me walking up to him, and nailing him square in the chest (I never won as the weak kick scored the point every time). While I know I shouldn't let ONE bad experience taint my view, the simple fact of the matter is that other TKD schools I've had the privilege of observing or other TKD-ka I've had the privilege of watching continue in this vein of bad body mechanics and poor strategy (save the single consumate, traditionally trained TKD-ka I met several years ago).

Invincibility part II: There's nothing quite like the "mythical" healing powers of karate. I continued to go to practice (which is bascially Mon - Fri from 6pm - ...whenever) with my torqued ankle but noticed that doing kata actually made it feel better and strengthened it over time. While still slighlty weak (doing Chinto is a little problematic), there is no pain, and I still retain full range of motion. I even played basketball again today (albeit with a slightly weaker jump).

The capoeira origins debate is actually one of particular interest to me. Let me first qualify this by saying I am not a capoeristra (on the contrary, I am a karateka), but that I do have an academic interest in capoeira. There is debate about the origins of capoeira: Mestre Bimba, the founder of the Regional school of capoeira, insisted that capoeira was created in Brazil as a result of a mixture of different games and fighting systems. Mestre Pastinha, the "father" of the Angola school of capoeira, insisted that African slaves brought capoeria with them to Brazil. What further calls capoeira origins into question was the widely practiced system of alforria - a slave could hypothetically buy his freedom after 10 years and return to Africa (However, unless they worked in the cities, most slaves did not live long enough to take advantage of this system. Slaves working in mines died within 7 years of their first employment; slaves working in plantations, 10 years). This cross migration of Africans to Brazil as slaves and back to their countries as free persons raises the issue as to whether or not capoeira was born in Brazil and brought to Africa (and in turn returned to Brazil with a new crop of slaves) or if capoeira was born in Africa and brought to Brazil. Those who subscribe to Bimba's theory could point to the arrival of the French Artistic Mission to Brazil in 1816 (a group of European artists sponsored by King Don Joao IV of Portugal visited Brazil while it was still a Portugese colony). In 1824, a German artist (Rugendas) on the mission painted a picture of two African Brazilians playing a game called "capuera." He described a game where two men attempted to bang each other's chests with their heads and knock the other man down. Notable in Rugendas's description was the absence of kicks, rolling movements on the ground, acrobatics, and the playing of the berimbau (even though it is known for certain that the berimbau existed and was commonly used by Brazilian Africans at that time) characteristics that readily identify to capoeira known in the present. These missing characteristics did exist elsewhere in Brazil. Muniz Sodre, a journalist and professor of cultural communication at the Federal University of Rio de Janiero, points to folklore about an African named Zumbi who was legendary for his devastating kicks. Zumbi was the final leader of a runaway slave city and is rumored to have defeated his adversaries unarmed and only using his legs. These separate elements could have come together over time through cultural transmission and sharing of knowledge while Brazilian slaveowners still allowed the open observance of African cultures. Those who subscribe to Pastinha's theory could point to the N'Golo dance-fight practiced in south Angola. The dance-fight took place during a female initiation ritual where young tribesmen would fight each other by imitating the movements of zebras. The winner chose his new wife from among the newly come-of-age girls and did not pay the girl's father. The theory presented by Brazilian historian Luis da Camara Cascudo in 1967 is that the N'Golo dance-fight was imported to Brazil by African slaves from Angola, and that the N'Golo dance-fight became capoeira. In either case, the one fundamental premise agreed upon by both schools of thought is that capoeira is the creation of Africans and their descendants. Where it was created is the fundamental question.

I don't have an opening move anymore. It used to be a high lead jab, lead front kick, cross, spinning back fist or elbow if my opponent blocked and grabbed my hand from the cross (I know...that's like four moves), but as time passed I began to realize that with adrenaline pumping in a real situation I would be so wrapped up in my opening moves that I'd probably completely miss what the other guy was doing. So, I decided to never open - I would waited for the other guy to attack, and react to what he did. Although I'm pretty skillful at counter-attacking, I began to realize that going to that extreme wasn't good either as I would be forced to fight on my opponent's terms. I approach situations now with "mu-shin"; that is, I have no preconceived notions of what I'm going to do. I've found in kumite that this works best as one's ability to adapt to a situation or shape a situation in the absence of preconceived notions is rather rapid. I imagine that this would be enhanced even greater in real life.

I read this back on your blog months ago, and I'm glad to see that it finally got posted here. Great read!

I'm feeling whimsical this evening: I was playing basketball today when I jumped for a rebound, got hit in the air and came down hard on my ankle. Luckily, I didn't break it but needless to say, it hurt a lot. After a few winced breaths and some mokuso, I got up, shook it off, rolled my ankle for a minute, and continued playing to the disbelief of the other players. While my jump was a little weaker, I still played them hard as if nothing had happened, and my ankle felt better in about 10 minutes. I'm pretty sure I sprained it, but it doesn't bother me. Upon reflection, I noticed that things that normally put people out of commission don't bother me that much. I'm pretty sure it's because of my training, but maybe I just have a high pain threshold. Anyone else ever notice the invicibility phenomenon? Is it a result of training? Or perhaps is it because of a naturally high pain threshold? Or both?

This is quite possibly the best way to learn how to apply a technique and understand the principles behind why it works. I actually find being demonstrated on stimulating in terms of learning and training. Call me sado-masochistic, but one thing I've always been envious of is not being the designated uke - when my best friend and I trained together, he was always the one who got demonstrated on. Now with my current instructor, he uses (understandably so) one of his most senior students to demonstrate everything on. Back a little more on topic, I think one of my more amusing mistakes was when I first started training, I sparred one of my good friends from high school pretty hard - it was my third match, ever. He was a 1st kyu and had been training for roughly 10 years (he couldn't test for black belt until he turned 18 ); I was a white belt and scared to death of him on the mat. He started out taking it easy on me, but I was so busy being afraid of him that I fought like my life depended on it...and I was actually mopping the floor with him briefly (key word: BRIEFLY). He got irritated and upped the ante until he was going at it full force. Thinking about it now, my head still stings from the finishing spinning hook kick that he nearly knocked me out with.

I might be wrong, but I don't think what you're experiencing is some kind of biological immunity. I think it's a thing called "out of sight, out of mind." The same thing that happens to you and your father happens to me if I'm not paying attention when traversing through a mosquito infested area. I've hiked through a rainforest type area and got bit about 14 times before I realized anything was wrong (my skin was beet red on all the places I got bit). If you don't touch the area where you get bit, it doesn't itch at all, and the red bump goes away. Now, if I see one of the little critters on my arm, I know I've been bit, and I wait for the itching sensation...sure enough it comes. And if I scratch it, that's all she wrote.

I went to "The Zoo" with Shorin Ryuu and got my commission in the U.S. Air Force. At the time we went through, our basic training was very different from the rest of the Air Force (read: big haze). The closest we got to "unarmed" combat training in basic was beating the heck out of each other with pugal sticks during a competitve event called "Big Bad Basic." The P.E. curriculum includes a required boxing or wrestling class (an all too brief 10 lessons) during freshman year and 2 mandatory unarmed combat classes of laughable quality during junior year (each 8 lessons a piece). Thank God for our old instructor and the Traditional Karate Club at the Zoo... As far as the rest of the Air Force goes, unless you're pararescue/combat control/security forces, you don't get any unarmed combat training. Personally, I think it's a travesty that we don't. Everybody in the Marine Corps is a rifleman and marine first and their MOS second, and when it comes down to it they know how to pick up a gun or go barehanded and beat the bad guys. The Air Force should be the same. We deploy just like everyone else and have the potential to be in just as many sticky situations (who's to say the air field won't get overrun, or a terrorist somehow sneaks in to the air base to do something dastardly, or if you're on a fighter/bomber/transport/cargo plane that crashes behind enemy lines/terrorist controlled region and you survive in good shape?); we should learn how to adequately defend ourselves and not be a liability to anyone who might be covering our rears.

Edit: How could I forget Chinto? *smacks forehead* An interesting story my instructor* told me: In the old days, the Okinawan kodansha had a meeting where such illustrious figures as Chojun Miyagi and Chosin Chibana were present. The topic: how many kata should they include in a karate curriculum? Ankoh Itosu had learned, created, modified and/or taught several kata (Naihanchi's [3], Pinan's [5], Passai's [2], Kusanku's [2], Jutte, Jion, [itosu] Rohai [3], [itosu] Wansu, Useishi, Niseishi, Seisan). The kodansha wanted to know if they should continue his legacy by teaching these and even more. Chibana said no. There came a point where people would become swamped with kata, and rather than looking and trying to implement the fighting techniques in kata would become "kata collectors." Chibana told them that he intended to limit his curriculum to the Pinan's, Naihanchi's, Passai's, and Kusanku's (he later created and implemented the Kihons into his curriculum, leaving the other Itosu kata as "option kata"). Chojun Miyagi agreed with him, informing the crowd that he also intended to limit his curriculum. Kanbun Uechi agreed so wholeheartedly with the philosophy that his curriculum was originally 6 kata (though I think it expanded to 8...someone from Uechi Ryu correct me on this). I guess the moral of the story is that this debate is nothing new, but that the late great's agreed that "Less is more." *My instructor was a student of Chibana, so I'm sure the story is credible.

Shorin Ryuu and I did the same system, so I'm also familiar with the version of Gojushiho Nakazato teaches. As far as your Pinan Yondan question, I'm assuming you're referring to the first side-to-side sequence right after the first 5 moves (...?). If this is the case, we do a "side" front kick. That is, imagine doing mae geri, but to the side instead of the front. Your body still faces forward. We also do a side-hammer-fist. The kick and the fist are simultaneous, and the kick is low (groin). By the way, I'm not too familiar with the Japanese names of the terms (my attitude is that I'm not in Japan so I don't need to speak Japanese in the dojo...my instructor agrees). You might want to fill me in on what "tetsuie" is.

You've asked three questions, so I'll break down my answers numerically. 1. Sokutou geri and backfist simultaneously before you turn, osae, and proceed with the the knife-hand blocks. 2. Hmm....we only take one step and it's heel-toe. 3. Under. Just out of curiousity, which version of Gojushiho are you doing? Chibana didn't teach it regularly (Nakazato did not learn Gojushiho from Chibana), as he considered it an "option" kata (i.e., nice to know but not really necessary). The version we do I've christened "Nakata no Useishi." This is because when my instructor was learning Gojushiho from Chibana, he didn't like all the nukite-zuki. Chibana modified the kata just for him to incorporate the use of closed fist punches instead of the nukite, so I guess you could say we're the only ones who do it that way.

Depends on what kind of movie you're making. By the verbiage of your statement ( "I only ask because I plan on making an independent film including martial arts" ) it sounds like marital arts is an accessory to your film and not the main focus in which case I would appreciate a good, solid plot; a good, believable, realistic character; and then a somewhat believable situation in which the character has to fight. Said fight should be brief and realistic - I'd recommend watching Tasogare Seibei (The Twilight Samurai) for an idea of what I'm talking about. Fights shouldn't be frequent (too many take away from the story...) but they can be as long as you are able to set up a somewhat believable situation. Now, if showcasing martial arts is the main focus of the movie, then I completely agree with jedimc's assessment. Each fight should be unique, we should see growth or progression in the main character's fighting ability (not necessarily all at the end fight by the way...) and each fight should be more impressive than the last. Since plot isn't necessarily the focus, people should fight OFTEN. Please, no wire-fu.

Conqueror: did we meet last year? Shorin Ryuu and I passed through Perry's dojo around this time last year (and Shorin Ryuu is heading back again in a few days...I'm unable to join him, but I really do want to go back sometime ). The name from your signature sounds very familiar (i.e., I remember meeting someone named Jason). Shorin Ryuu pretty much captures my intent perfectly. There's a general trend in the martial arts for instructors to be placed on these pedestals by their students and exulted to such a degree that they become demi-gods in their student's eyes. For example, as much as I loved training bagua, one of the things that turned me off to it was the degree of student reverie for the instructor; he was a great guy and a martial artist, but during practice at times I thought I was in a cult. That and the focus on the whole Taoism thing didn't really catch my fancy... I do not intend to besmirch Sensei Perry - by all means I have the deepest amount of respect for the man as a human being and a karateka (and I only knew the guy for 7 days...he impressed me that much). During my visit, I observed that the hero worship phenomenon wasn't exclusive to the mudansha class; a minority of yudansha (some guys in the front row at that...) still had that awe, as well deserved as it is, because they understood what Perry was doing and were simply marvelling at how beautifully he was doing it. The enthusiastic evangelism, however, did not come from them but from the mudansha, so I do see your point, Conqueror. I would just like to kinda steer the conversation towards one of my original questions, which is this: is it necessary for martial arts instructors and "masters" to have this larger-than-life image? Just an example: In any conversation I've ever had with a Shotokan karateka, Gichin Funakoshi was the best thing since sliced bread. However, when I talk to guys who have been around the block and who have had contact/trained with the old masters post WWII, Funakoshi was a "pretty boy" without "kakedamashii" or "fighting spirit." Not to step on anyone's toes, but based on these conversations and informal research I tend to bend toward the latter observation (actually, I'm sure the truth is somewhere in a shade of grey between the two). However, Funakoshi really did do great things for karate (i.e., spread it). He's a larger-than-life phenom. Why?

These men are pretty advanced in age (Sensei Perry should be turning 68 this month and Sensei Nakata is 61). Like men in this age, they invariably love telling stories, and since both have lived illustrious lives (Perry as a marine sniper in Vietnam, Nakata as a virtual uchi-deshi of Chosin Chibana) both enjoy telling stories about themselves. While I don't doubt the truth behind the stories they tell, there's always a little room to make the tales an inch or two taller if you catch my drift. While sharing their life experiences is extremely valuable, their incredible feats do to some degree (however slight) foster a little bit of hero worship. How do you not to some degree worship a marine sniper from Vietnam who served two (or three...don't remember exactly but he went more than once) tours and was awarded 57 combat decorations? How do you not stand in awe in front of a man who was THE guy Chibana picked whenever someone challenged his school and summarily beat EVERYONE he ever fought...as a 20-something-year-old (one Okinawan "master" called him "Chibana's fighting right arm")? In essence, they do and do not intentionally foster a degree of hero worship. They tell these stories to share their lives with us, but they have tp know that the things they've done in these stories will to some degree make them larger-than-life to us.