THE ONE CHANCE MINDSET

 by Phillip Starr

In a old thread on a martial arts forum, an instructor who is a close friend of mine presented a quote from Master Chosin Chibana, wherein he emphasized that (traditional) karate training is directed towards developing the ability to kill in a single blow. This was a very apt quote and one with which both the karate teacher and I (as well as many senior Yiliquan practitioners) agree whole-heartedly. Although I've done two or three lectures on this concept I'd like to toss out one more, which has to do with the mindset of this concept which seems to have been tossed by the wayside in most of today's modern martial arts schools.

Actually, the Okinawan and Japanese schools have always emphasized this more heavily than the Chinese. Insofar as kung-fu is concerned, the implementation of this concept and type of rigorous training varied from one system to the next. In some forms of Shao-lin boxing, the idea of killing in one strike was heavily emphasized, but in other styles such as Wing Chun and others, it is not (the idea is to land a "hit" and eventually beat the poop out of the other guy). My primary kung-fu teacher stressed the importance of developing this kind of skill and intent, and, of course, my early karate teachers pushed the same thing.

The idea of, and training for, killing an opponent with a single blow is one of the main things that separates traditional Asian percussive martial arts from their more modernized counterparts (many of which have become "sportified") as well as from numerous martial disciplines from other parts of the world. European fencing, for example, is not necessarily directed towards this end. Traditional Japanese kenjutsu is. Filipino arnis is not directed mainly to kill the enemy in a single strike, either...nor is western boxing, French savate, Russian systema (as nearly as I can determine considering my limited exposure to it), or South American caperoira. Karate (the original version) is. *Note: Grappling arts such as judo, sambo, jujutsu, and others are not percussive martial disciplines and do not really enter into this part of the article.

This is why the past Okinawan karate teachers were so selective about their students (the same is true of numerous Chinese styles) and why they were so insistent that training be approached with the utmost seriousness. Students were, after all, training so as to be able to kill another human being in one blow; of literally turning their bodies into living, breathing weapons which were capable of penetrating through light armor and ending the life of the person inside. In one strike.

The Japanese sword is not designed for lengthy sword fights such as one might witness in a European-style duel. The styles of Japanese swordsmanship did not provide training for such drawn-out affairs; the idea was to end the fight with a single cut. This is what their sword is made to do...to kill a man in a single blow (most swords are not capable of withstanding that kind of powerful shock). If you failed, you died. End of conflict.

I have seen dozens and dozens of teachers and styles both of karate and kung-fu which say, "If the enemy attacks like this, I can do this and this and this...." and so on. The oldsters would have simply shifted and dropped the bad guy where he stood. No fancy "twisting like a dragon" movements. Just shift, BANG!, and it was over. However, this kind of approach to fighting is foreign to us (Westerners). I suppose it has to do with our being accustomed to boxing matches and "fair fights" (whatever that is) and perhaps our sense of "morality" which shrinks from the thought of killing another human being. In the ancient Orient, such "morality" would get you dead very quickly. The old saying, "He who hesitates is lost" was never more apt.

In a sense, the old-time martial arts practitioners were akin to the gunfighters of the old American West. He wouldn't hesitate for an instant to blow you away and anyone who hesitated for even a microsecond because the thought of killing another human being was distasteful (or whatever) would end up with a new bodily orifice and a bed of pine wood. An old friend of mine from my law enforcement days who was a special agent for the FBI told me, "Never draw your weapon unless you intend to use it. And when you shoot, shoot to kill." It was a line I'd heard many times before but somehow, it meant more to me hearing it from him.

If someone makes a "small attack"; one that is not overly-dangerous, it can be handled with simple self-defense techniques. But if the situation is more severe, remember his words. "Never draw your weapon (karate/kung-fu) unless you intend to use it. And when you shoot (strike), shoot to kill."

Many, perhaps even most, of our contemporary versions of alleged "martial arts" are not directed towards this end; towards downing the enemy in an instant. We have "submission" wrestling (I still can't figure out how "submission" works in a street fight, especially when your life is on the line), "reality" fighting (I guess the traditional martial arts represent the "fantasy" forms...huh) - most of which has had very limited or no testing in reality...go figure, "natural" forms of fighting ("a baby moves his arm like this, so it's natural...and this is how you should strike, because it's natural")...except I've never seen an infant win a street fight...and God knows how many other variations on the theme. I think that when you get down to it, most people simply don't want to put out the effort required to develop the high levels of skill which are demanded in the traditional martial arts.

Whatever.

I know how I'm going to continue to practice. How about you?

MUSIC AND MARTIAL ARTS

 by Phillip Starr

Many moons ago, the founder of Kyokushin karate, Masutatsu Oyama, remarked on the types of people who are able to achieve skill in karate rather quickly. He included musicians (and secondarily, those who love to listen to music) in his rather short list. It was some time before I figured out why.

To become a skilled musician, you must acquire an understanding of rhythms; you must understand half-beats and even quarter-beats... and the same is true of those wishing to become skilled in the martial arts. For someone who is unfamiliar with the (musical) concept of rhythms, the idea of striking an enemy in a half-beat seems quite foreign. It is no coincidence that many of the finest and best-known warriors of times past had a genuine appreciation of music and more than a few were accomplished musicians themselves! Inscrutable.

Consider that everything in life has rhythm(s). We have the four seasons, which rise and fall with a certain rhythm (except in southern China where I lived); it's not unusual to skip Fall and go directly from Summer to Winter. I guess it's a “skipped beat!”. Your gait has a certain rhythm. Relationships, health, the life cycle, dancing, and even painting all have rhythms. And there are rhythms within rhythms. If you can become finely attuned to your opponent's rhythm, how can he ever hope to successfully attack you? Were he to make such an attempt, he would be instantly defeated.

In the West, we've pretty much adopted the four-beat rhythm in our music. One noted author believes that this may be largely due to the rhythmical beat of horse's hooves. On the other hand, he says, most people in feudal Japan, Okinawa, Korea, and China didn't ride horses. For one thing, acquiring and keeping a horse was quite expensive. Another consideration is that of the local roads, which were really dirt paths of varying sizes. Special passes were often required of those wishing to ride horses or pull heavy wagons over these trails; the wheels of too many wagons would result in deep ruts, which would inhibit foot traffic considerably. And horse's hooves would simply tear up the smoothed dirt. In the West, travel by wagon or horse was much more common and I guess they didn't care about ruts (heck, they didn't even care about cleaning themselves after defecating; it was the Chinese who introduced the use of “toilet paper” to Europeans).

The aforementioned author goes on to say that in the East, musical “rhythms” were taken from nature; the dripping of water after a rain, for instance. Thus, the reason for the differences in tempos between Eastern and Western music. For purposes of gaining a deep understanding of rhythm, I think it's a good idea to appreciate both types of music. In my classes, I always played Eastern music, figuring that my students got their fill of Western music on their own...

Not all kata utilize the same rhythm. Each one has its own special rhythms. Different sections of a given kata employ different rhythms and unless you know and practice them, you're doing little more than a sophisticated forms of jumping jacks. You have to study them in detail because they can change the entire meaning (breakdown) of a form. The vast majority of martial arts practitioners (and that includes instructors) are missing this vital element in their kata. I've even seen a number of world-renowned teachers plopping through their kata without so much as a whisper of rhythm! So, please make it a point to learn the various rhythm of your kata and always include them in your practice.

If you ask most karate or taekwondo teachers about the purpose of 3-step fight, most of them will tell you that this familiar exercise, which confuses beginners and bores advanced students half to death, is intended primarily to teach the applications of various blocking techniques. They secondarily teach the application of basic striking, thrusting, and kicking techniques. This has become the “traditional” explanation because most people have been doing it this for generations. When beginners first learn to practice this form of kumite, it is very useful in teaching them basic applications of techniques as well as how to properly advance and retreat. Advanced students, however, rarely practice 3-step fight because they have acquired a good level of skill in these things.

But.

3-step fight is also an exercise through which students learn about rhythm; they learn how to “break” the opponent's rhythm. This is a crucial aspect of kumite that is often overlooked. A detailed, illustrated explanation of this is provided in my book, “MARTIAL MANEUVERS.” If you don't already have a copy, get one!

The next step is 1-step fight, which not only teaches evasive maneuvers and the applications of technique, but also a slightly more subtle (and hence, more difficult) method of learning to feel and respond to an opponent's rhythm. This is virtually impossible to do unless one has mastered the methods that are to be learned in 3-step fight. Only after achieving some appreciable skill in understanding rhythm via 1-step kumite, should one engage in vigorous jyu-kumite (freestyle sparring).

The discerning practitioner will soon discover that “speed”, per se, isn't nearly as important as being able to detect and respond to the opponent's rhythm. If you can feel his rhythm, there's no need to “hurry.” This is how and why aging masters seem to be extraordinarily fast and able to defeat much younger adversaries with ease; their ability to feel and react to an opponent's rhythm (their “timing”) is razor-sharp. Let's face it, no 80 year old, regardless of how physically fit he may be, is ever going to be faster than a 25 year old. As the years pass, our speed declines and there's simply nothing we can do about it. But timing can always be improved, regardless of age. So when a younger opponent attacks an older master with great speed and power, the latter responds at the right instant and this gives the illusion that he is moving at extremely high speed.

It takes study, introspection, and LOTS of practice... not just in martial arts, but in other aspects of daily life, too. And an understanding of rhythms can lead to a deeper understanding of other things as well. Now, go back to your first kata and find the rhythm. It is how your kata speaks to you. Listen to it.

MARTIAL ARTS; DIFFERENCES BETWEEN EAST AND EAST

 by Phillip Starr

No, the title of this article isn't a typo. It means what it says. It is an introduction into my thoughts about how and why the Japanese, Okinawans, Koreans, and Chinese practice their various martial forms.

With the unification of Japan under the Tokugawa shogunate, civil war in Japan came to an end. The once highly-independent lords now served Tokugawa and had no need for the maintenance of large private armies. They “downsized” their military forces considerably and many samurai suddenly found themselves unemployed. A number of them opened their own dojos in an effort to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. They had learned, practiced, and still taught the “jutsu” forms of their respective disciplines. These arts are focused exclusively upon practical combatives without any concern for the student's spiritual development or anything else. They were, after all, originally developed to ensure the survival of the clan.

With the passage of time and the relative disintegration of the “clans”, many of these arts morphed into “do” forms; martial disciplines that focus not only on developing fighting skills but also on the development of character and ultimately, spiritual awareness.

The Japanese have always been a highly-disciplined people and their culture has always had a militaristic tendency. The samurai of days long past were, and still are, held in very high esteem. And although no one carries swords nowadays, feudal Japan is still very much alive. Ball-point pens have replaced swords. And many of the CEO's in modern Japan are descended from samurai families...which means that they are, in fact, samurai themselves.

And so they have continued to hold their traditional martial ways in the highest regard although they are now considered as being somewhat old-fashioned. For a time, the numbers of practitioners of the budo dwindled but their numbers are once again on the rise. They are, after all, a very large part of what has kept Japan Japanese! Many executives of various corporations bow to their teachers and engage in the practice of martial arts such as kendo, karate, and aikido in dojos that are maintained inside the buildings where they work! It is thought that the regular practice of these arts helps employees stay healthy, reduce stress, improve focus, and ultimately, improve productivity in the workplace.

Many martial forms have been modified for the competition arena in Japan. These include kendo, karatedo, and of course, judo (which was originally developed from jujutsu as a sport method). There are numerous Japanese instructors who feel that the “sportification” of their arts has contributed to an overall degeneration and I would have to say that for all intents and purposes, that's true. However, the Japanese strive to maintain the spirit of the budo (even in competition) and this has helped prevent their arts from spiraling downward, out of control. It's a site better than what we see in the West, that's for sure!

Unlike the Japanese, the people of Okinawa never developed much of a militaristic culture. Although they did have a warrior class, it was a far cry from that of Japan. The warrior's first obligation was to protect his emperor and country. After that, his loyalty was to his family. In some ways, much of early Okinawan culture mirrored that of its closest ally; China. Many Chinese visited or moved to Okinawa and numerous Okinawans spent a good deal of time in China, so it's only natural that they learned Chinese forms of martial arts. This is especially true of southern Chinese martial arts systems. And although most of us were taught that the Okinawans didn't learn Japanese martial arts, the truth is far different. Several well-known Okinawans traveled to Japan and became top-notch adepts at swordsmanship; several were even awarded menkyos (licenses to teach)!

Okinawan martial ways seem to focus primarily on self-defense. They do engage in competitions but rarely do they train primarily for sport. In the past, the emphasis was almost wholly on combat practicality. This matches up with the “jutsu” forms of Japanese martial arts, which were intended to preserve the safety and perpetuation of the “clan.” With the passing of time the Okinawan forms, like the Japanese disciplines, were gradually transformed into “do” forms, emphasizing not only combative practicality but the development of character and spirit as well.

Korean martial arts were, like all other martial arts, originally focused on self-defense. The Koreans didn't develop a warrior culture as did the Japanese although for a time they were served by the “hwarang”, which means “flower boys.” I saw several of you smile... and yes, they did use make-up and perfume but they also trained assiduously in horsemanship, archery, and swordsmanship. Comprised largely of young men from the kingdom of Silla (when Korea was divided into three kingdoms), very little was known about them until the end of WWII in 1945. Following the unification of its three kingdoms (the fighting was won by the kingdom of Koryo...thus, the name, “Korea”), people turned away from appreciating their military. In fact, there was a saying that perfectly expressed their attitude; :One does not make nails out of the best steel, and one does not make soldiers out of the best men.” This kind of feeling contributed to the eventual demise of many Korean martial forms.

The original Korean martial arts were heavily influenced by their Chinese neighbors and almost none of them. such as cha-bi, survived to the present day. Current Korean martial ways include arts such as taekwondo, tangsoodo, and a handful of other spin-offs. Their founders were military men, so it was only natural that the arts they learned (mainly from the Japanese) were taught to their troops. Training was extremely rugged and could be said to have been quite brutal.

Following the war in Vietnam (in which several ROK units were deployed), Korean instructors saw the huge demand for Asian martial arts in the West. They were only too happy to accommodate. And as tournaments became more and more popular in the West, the majority of Korean martial arts teachers modified their arts to better suit them to the contest arena. This was done to such a degree that it is now difficult to find a Korean martial arts school that isn't sport-oriented.

China has never embraced a warrior culture. On the contrary, the Chinese seemed to place great emphasis on other arts such as painting, calligraphy, poetry, music, and dancing. Certainly, martial arts teachers were highly respected but they weren't held in the same esteem as, say, a well-known painter or poet. Martial arts were practiced as forms of self-defense. A number of styles were developed for teaching to military troops as well. Although there were occasional contests of sorts, they were rather rare and never became very popular.

Very rarely did members of the upper class participate in martial arts practice. This is still true today. Such rigorous activities were only marginally popular with the middle class as well. However, member of the lower middle class and lower classes enjoyed this kind of vigorous practice. Many of them had had only minimal educations (if any at all...a good number of them were illiterate), so the odds of getting a decent job were rather small. However, if they could become skilled at martial arts they might well land a job as a bodyguard or convoy escort.

During WWII, martial arts instruction was all but impossible to find. China was in a state of total upheaval and after the end of the war, things only got worse in so far as martial arts are concerned. The establishment of the People's Republic of China ended the open practice of any martial discipline; such things were strictly forbidden until the end of the Cultural Revolution in 1976. China realized that its martial arts were, in fact, a great treasure and they sought to find ways to popularize it. Among other things, this led to the development of contemporary “wushu” (which means “martial arts”) that combined martial arts movements with gymnastics and Chinese opera. However, although modern wushu did become quite popular both in China and the West, the traditional martial ways entered a headlong dive.

Currently, there are very few teachers of the traditional martial ways left in China and almost none of them possess all of the information regarding the system that they practice. Soccer and basketball are the most popular sports and “real” kung-fu is something that youngsters read about in comic books. China's entrance onto the world stage at the beginning of the 20^th century and the direction it took afterwards mortally wounded the once-legendary traditional martial arts. Their energy and spirit bled out, leaving behind an empty corpse, which has since been reduced to little more than a skeleton.

KUZUSHI

 by Phillip Starr

*Portions excerpted from the book, “Martial Maneuvers” by the author.

In Japanese martial arts such a judo, “kuzushi” refers to breaking the opponent's balance. The characters for kuzushi are pronounced “bengjun” in Chinese. The first character means “to collapse.” The second character refers to balance. One author translated the first character as “demolish” and that infers a violent, explosive action and kuzushi needn't be so conspicuous. A smooth and often subtle movement causes the opponent's equilibrium to collapse, to fall in on top of itself. This is really an art form of its own.

In judo and other highly sophisticated grappling arts kuzushi was once practiced very assiduously. After all, it's very difficult to throw an opponent whose balance is intact. Not only is it difficult to throw her, it's very risky attempting to throw someone whose balance is intact because she's easily capable of countering any attempt to bring her down. She can then quickly apply powerful striking or grappling techniques of her own.

Learning how to break the opponent's balance and use her own force against her is in keeping with one of judo's famous maxims, which reminds practitioners to strive to obtain maximum effectiveness with minimum effort. There's a lot more to that statement than meets the eye.

If an opponent pushes against you and you push back or try to hold your ground, you are resisting him. In such a situation, the stronger person will win. However, if you yield to him and pull him in the direction he is pushing, you can easily gain control of his movement.

The same is true if the opponent pulls you towards himself. If you'll yield to his force and push him, his balance is easily broken and he can be brought under control without too much difficulty.

In both cases the object is to yield to the aggressor's force and thereby displace his center of balance. Once that's achieved, he's helpless unless he's allowed to regain his balance.

In the practice of aikido the art of breaking balance is a little more intriguing. When the opponent attacks, his mind (intention, known as “yi”) leads his body. A skilled aikidoka is capable of exploiting this fact, allowing the opponent to overextend himself by subtly encouraging him to do so. The enemy's force and movement can then be easily intercepted and redirected.

In both of these grappling forms, students move from the grossly overt to the fine and subtle. That is, a beginning judo student usually fails to apply kuzushi at all. He'll grunt and strain as he tries to literally lift his opponent and throw him. As he continues to study and practice the art, he'll discover the importance of kuzushi. At that point he usually grabs his partner's jacket in a death-grip and starts yanking, pushing, and pulling in outwardly gross attempts to effect kuzushi.

But the technique of the master judoist is much more subtle. Knowing that taking a powerful grip on his opponent's jacket can lead to entanglement, joint twists, and other problems, he gently HOOKS his partner's jacket with his fingertips and a delicate touch. His touch is fine so that he can feel his opponent's movements and thereby detect his intentions. This is not unlike taijiquan's “tui-shou” (push hands) exercises. When he unbalances his opponent it is done so subtly that the opponent himself is often unaware of it until he's airborne.

An aikido novice often focuses on how to turn the joint or the arm or whatever and pays little or no attention to the concept of kusuzhi. She uses her own strength in an attempt to force her assailant's joint to turn this way or that, and after just a few minutes of practice she's soaked with sweat.

The master seems to glide along a current of air and her uke (receiver) often feels that he has no control over himself at all. He is caught up in a whirlwind of movement that may result in his being tossed several feet away or brought down quickly in a painful joint twist. The more effort he uses to attack the master, the easier it is for the master to throw him or bring him into submission.

The same thing is true in Japanese kenjutsu. The two swordsmen face each other with their weapons positioned just so. There is very little overt movement; no hopping around like a rabbit on amphetamines. The first one to make an error will be struck down instantly. They're focused on what they're doing, joining their minds to feel each other's intent.

Obviously, if one stumbles, he will quickly become a popular breakfast food – toast. But there's little chance of that because they've trained long and hard to maintain physical balance. If either fighter initiates an attack with a large, gross movement, he will be struck down instantly.

They're not just standing still and admiring each other's pretty eyes. They're feeling each other's mind and spirit. If one swordsman's spirit should become unbalanced – if it should waver for even an instant – the fight will be brought to a sudden close because his opponent will sense it and destroy him. This kind of kuzushi is extremely subtle.

There is a story told about the founder of modern judo, Dr. Jigaro Kano. A British boxer who was a sailor on a ship was asked by the ships captain to have a bout with the famous judo master. He felt that a grappling art was no match for Western fisticuffs. Although Kano was dressed in a business suit, he agreed on the spot to demonstrate the effectiveness of his art. The two contestants squared off. Kano reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and deftly tossed a handkerchief into the air. As the boxer glanced at it, Kano skilfully took advantage of the moment and threw him, being careful to cushion his opponent's head so that he wouldn't be injured by the fall.

There's more to the story that just a chuckle. Kano distracted his opponent by UNBALANCING HIS MIND and as I've said before, mental and physical balance are inseparable. Once his opponent's mental balance wad disturbed, his physical balance was likewise (although very subtly) disturbed. And he was vulnerable. Consider the true qualities of balance. That is, one's equilibrium consists not only of one's physical posture but also one's mental poise. Thus, you can execute kuzushi and place the opponent in a very vulnerable condition by unbalancing either his body or his mind!

Of course, you must have very fine technique to take advantage of such a subtle thing. Kano's technique was so perfect that he was able to utilize that microsecond of vulnerability and throw his opponent.

There are other very subtle forms of kuzushi, particularly in so far as self-defense is concerned. For instance, when an aggressor speaks (as in giving a command), his mind is focused largely on what he's saying and his reaction time drops by almost 50%. The same is true of laughter. If he laughs, he's highly vulnerable. One officer with the Arizona Border Patrol was faced by two assailants. One held a pistol while the other aimed a shotgun at him. His own weapon was still holstered. He told them that if they'd lay down their weapons, he'd simply arrest them; otherwise, he'd be forced to kill them both. He darned well knew the reaction he'd get. They both laughed. And he killed the two of them.

Here's another useful tip. Have a partner stand normally, with his feet spread about shoulder's width. Step forward and place one foot directly between his feet. Place weight on your foot. Your partner may lean back or perhaps even stumble a bit. In any case, he will feel very uncomfortable and “unbalanced.” This is because you are stepping on what I call his “third foot”, which is actually his center of gravity. For a moment, he is quite vulnerable. This can be a useful tidbit of information when it comes to throwing, executing joint techniques, or striking (in which case you aim to step on his third foot but it will be necessary to land your blow before your foot touches down).

Remember, there's more to kuzushi than just pushing or pulling. “Balance” consists of two parts; physical balance and mental balance. Strive to improve your skill with kuzushi until you can apply it in very subtle ways. Highly advanced, masterful forms of kuzushi are not easily seen.

HOW REALISTIC IS IT?

 By Phillip Starr

For some time now, I've watched and studied numerous videos regarding how “real” knife attacks occur; they're extremely violent and the armed aggressor always turns his hapless martial arts-trained victim into so much dogmeat. However, much as I'm sure the authors of these videos would disagree, I have some problems with their scenarios (based on firsthand experience (which, I'm sure, they all allege that they have lots of...).

Most of these videos begin with the aggressor standing some fifteen feet or so from the victim, knife in hand. He charges forward while the victim awaits his arrival and then tries to defend himself. He is, of course, quickly overcome and stabbed repeatedly. Let me say that after many years spent working in various fields of law enforcement (drug enforcement, special deputy, corrections officer in a state prison and other positions), I have never faced down a bad guy armed with a knife at a distance of fifteen feet. Moreover, I've never known anyone who has been in a similar situation.

The fact is that bad guys don't present the knife at such a long distance as that provides more than adequate warning to the victim that an attack is imminent and tends to accumulate witnesses. Were I the intended victim, I'd beat feet in the opposite direction pretty darned quick! And, I would ask, under what conditions would an armed aggressor have that much room in which to move? Without witnesses...?

For the most part, such attacks happen in areas where there are few witnesses (if any) and the assailant generally doesn't draw his weapon until he's fairly close. This minimizes your chances for running away. It has been my experience that a knife-wielding opponent who draws his weapon while he's still some distance from you WANTS you to see the weapon. He wants to intimidate, to frighten you. In short, he's likely a rank amateur. A pro keeps his weapon hidden until the last second.

That said, an amateur can cut you just as easily as a professional. If you're ever faced with such an opponent, you must understand this. It's well to remember the first law of self-defense; whenever possible, run away. There's no shame in it. You'll save two lives...yours and his. But if you cannot flee or you must not flee (if, for instance, you're defending your loved ones), then resolve yourself to the fact that you're going to get cut. You must also resolve yourself to the fact that you're going to take his life, regardless. It's not a pretty picture.

I'm not going to turn this into a discussion about what techniques to use and so forth; such things generally do little more than lead to urination competitions, but I do have practical advice to offer. First, never (and I mean NEVER) attempt to grapple with or disarm an armed aggressor. If you do, you're playing by “rules” - you're trying to disarm him – and he isn't interested in grappling with you. His only aim is to take your life. And if you'll recall those immortal words from Paul Newman's monstrous foe who was armed with a Bowie knife in the movie, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”... “Rules??? In a knife fight?” 'Nuff said about that...

Second, if you have time and opportunity, pick up something to use as a weapon. Ashtrays to belt buckles can work wonders under stress. I recall one little-known kung-fu stylist (I'll call him “Jimmy” although he was Chinese and I won't mention how he'd made a living. Suffice it to say that he'd seen more than his share of armed opponents...and survived), who had studied southern mantis boxing for a good many years providing instruction to my son, Harlan Lee, and a number of his junior classmates. Jimmy favored wearing a western-style belt buckle because such a device is easily and quickly removed from its primary job (holding your pants up) and used as a formidable flail...unless you buy your pants two sizes too large. An assailant armed with a blade might well think twice before walking into that fast-moving chunk of steel. And he'd had Harlan and the others buy such belts and buckles. Their group was from Hawaii where, apparently, such belts aren't in fashion, and I could see the embarrassment on their faces at having to “dress like cowboys.” I was perfectly at home with the idea as I often wore such belts...and hats, and boots!

I recall breaking a student's heart when several of us were at a local bar and he asked what I would do if someone suddenly attacked me. I told him I'd probably throw the ashtray at him before feeding him my bottle of beer. Literally. “You wouldn't use kung-fu?” he asked. I replied, “That IS kung-fu!”

It's also well to bear in mind the part of the scenario that goes down prior to the bad guy pulling out a blade. Whatever the situation, things escalate in stages. You can learn to recognize these stages and understand what's going on...and deal with your opponent in an appropriate manner. It's very rare that someone walks up to you and simply starts stabbing away. That isn't to say that it never happens; I'm saying that it's very rare. You must go beyond simply learning some nice-looking, exciting techniques. It's a good idea to learn how to read a person's intentions and understand something about human behavior. That will do more to keep you alive than any number of techniques.

In my own classes, I taught students the following “guidelines” regarding defensive maneuvers against a knife (or club, or whatever):

1. Attack the attack!.

2. Gain and maintain control of the weapon at all times.

3. Kill the opponent as quickly as possible.

But there's more to these guidelines than meets the eye. The first statement implies that if you in so much as even suspect that your adversary is armed, you should step back a short distance; put some daylight between your body and his hands. This may not always be possible, as in the case of defending your family or other loved ones. Should an attack ensure, attack the attack!

The second statement is probably the most difficult to apply. Acquiring control of a weapon that is held by someone else may look easy on the silver screen but in a real life and death struggle, it's extremely difficult. Moreover, the statement shouldn't be taken to infer that you maintain control of the weapon for any length of time; a fraction of a second may well be all you need.