Strategy

Sun Tzu, the Art of War, is a pretty well known book. But what does it say?

You can not control the future, that is the first rule of warfare. When circumstances change, and they always do, your strategies must adapt and change too. Strategies must have built-in flexibility and a failing strategy must be dropped immediately.

Defense

If you know what type of attack is coming, and you have the time and money, you can build an effective defense. The history of warfare is simple-- a successful attack will inspire an effective defense against that sort of attack. Then comes a new type of attack, which inspires a new type of defense. Periods of good defense cover much longer periods in history than periods of new attacks. (Perhaps modern weaponry will change this, I don't know. There are now defenses for nuclear weapons, they suck, but shelters can be designed to survive an attack, and nuclear missiles can be exploded above your own cities to destroy incoming missiles.)

Not-defending

This explains why matched fighting uses so much defensive technique and real fighting doesn't. In a real fight you have no idea what type of attack is coming. This is one of the priciples that push-hands and roushou are suposed to teach. But of course if you always think and practice defensively, your push-hands will just be a waste of time.

Strategy involves intimate knowledge of everything from terrain, to psychology, to logistics. If you are more familiar with the details of warfare than your opponent, you can devise a winning strategy based on you opponent's weaknesses. Even if you are fewer in numbers or weaker in some other way, you can still win.

Losing Well

It is possible to lose well. All of these lessons are important to martial artists, but this last one is the hardest to learn. I'm reminded of the story of a group of reporters in the Congo whose jeep was stopped by a rebel road-block. The rebels, armed to the teeth with machine guns, took everyone out one by one and shot them. One guy burst into tears. The rebels laughed at him, he seemed utterly pathetic, and then they put him back in the jeep told him to drive off.

Now I'm not saying that reporter actually had a strategy, but if he did, there is no reason to believe it would work a second time. That's the nature of warfare, of fighting, and knowing how to lose well.

Although Sun Tzu doesn't say it, he fundamentally rejects the notion of honor.

Iraq "Mac"

I stay far away from politics in my blog. But yesterday's Wall Street Journal article about a self taught Tribal Warfare Expert named Iraq Mac is just too good to not submit to my readers too.

When the Mongol Armies conquered the known world they faced almost no significant opposition, they stopped for one reason and one reason only: Genghis Khan died and several of his generals felt they were in line for succession, so they returned home to "work it out." His two top generals chose not to return home, one settled permanently in Turkey, the other in Iran.

Generally speaking, when the Mongols encountered a horse riding people they offered them a choice: Join us or die. When they encountered other peoples they built pyramids with their skulls.

The Marmelukes were the only horse riding people to have success against the Mongols.

Mr. McCallister, the Marines' resident expert on tribal culture, settled on the perfect gift: a Mameluke sword. The swords, which all Marine officers carry, date back to 1804 when a Marine lieutenant led a group of Arabs in a successful attack on pirates and was awarded a sword by an Ottoman pasha.

Read the whole article. Or if that doesn't work try this Google News search.

Never Fight

There is an old Chinese proverb that I have always liked, but let me apologize in advance for any underlying misogyny or other offenses to contemporary morality.

Never fight a woman, a monk, or a sick man!

This proverb cuts to the core of Chinese martial arts thinking-- that's why I like it.

Never fight a woman because if a woman is willing to fight you, it's a sure bet that she has some surprises. Surprise is the greatest weapon of all. Women's martial arts start from the assumptions that one has:

1. A shorter reach


2. Less power


3. Less ability to use conditioning or physical integration for an effective defense. Basically, smaller bones can be made tougher but bigger bones will usually break them anyway.

Women's martial arts focus on using sudden overwhelming force on the most vulnerable areas. They often use tricks, surprises and small hidden weapons. (You have been warned.)

Never fight a monk because monks are known for their extraordinary discipline. It is likely that they have trained One Technique over and over again; and you don't know what it is.

Never fight a sick man, because he may be sick from training too much!

Rooting, the Spear, and the Phalanx

I think this picture helps explain why people developed rooting techniques. From the time of Alexander the Great until Julius Caesar this type of warfare was totally dominant.

Cavalries, when they were very large and well organized could be decisive against spear armies but in most places, most of the time, they didn't have the numbers to beat the infantries. (Later the Mongols were a big exception.)

When Julius Caesar came along he consistently defeated this type of Phalanx formation with something called a Centurion. A Centurion was 100 men divided into 20 groups of 5 which were capable of acting as a unit.

Each man carried:

• a 6 foot long javelin, which could be used for throwing or thrusting.


• a shield, which fit together with 4 other shields into a solid shape which angled up from the ground and could be used to get under the phalanx.


• a short sword.

American style football and the game of pool are both leftovers from the days of the Phalanx. Few armies have ever been as well organized as Julius Caesar's were, so the Phalanx continued to have play in the fields of battle until the gun.

Rooting techniques have some application in stand-up styles of wrestling, but their main application is being able to hold a long spear, shoulder to shoulder with other men, while you are facing a solid wall of on coming spears.

I believe one of the roots of push-hands came out of the idea of Champion Matches. These were fights held the night before a battle, where both sides put forward their greatest fighter. It was a chance for generals to meet, and sometimes find a settlement with out arms.  Failing that, if your champion won the other army was demoralized.

Tendon Twisting

This is a continuation of the series on jin, that started below with a discussion of pulsing.

Twisting integrates the body and is essential to make the mechanics of Taijiquan operative. Most sports, and even most martial arts, do not emphasis twisting enough. Twisting integrates the body because as you twist you take the slack out of tendons; if all the tendons throughout the body have an equal amount of twisting, the movement of the hand will be simultaneous with the movement of the foot.

This principle can be simply illustrated by stepping on one end of a towel and twisting the other end until it is like a thick rope. Movement at one end of the towel while it is slack at best sends a wave through the towel. After you have twisted it the whole thing moves as one flexible hunk.

Twisting unevenly will cause lots of damage. That's how joint locks and breaks work. Practice on a chicken if you want. For instance, to bust the wrist, just twist it while immobilizing the elbow.

This practice is the main reason that Chinese martial artists do not have or need big bulging arm or leg muscles.

Again, twisting is part of jin, it creates underlying dynamic structure. It is not itself a source of power, it does make the use of power more efficient.

Image: I got the image of the towel from this Heller Bodywork site, they are making a different but related point about the process of balancing.

Joint Pulsing #2

If you practice pulsing all the joints in the body, with a partner and on your own, many aspects Taijiquan will come to life. This is considered an original qi (yuanqi) practice because it is really obvious that babies do joint pulsing all the time. Most people loose much of this pre/post-natal action as they mature.

The wonderful thing is that this buoyant mobility is recoverable, even at advanced ages, because it relies on fluids not muscles. (Of course older people loose fluids as they age too, but not as fast as muscle.)

From a fighting point of view joint pulsing really amps up one's ability to hit with a lot of force using very little movement, and no wind up. In other words, fajing.

On the down side, there is a tiny delay in between opening and closing the joints that can be exploited by a fast and sensitive opponent. So if you want to reach the top level, you will eventually have to phase out the pulsing.

Here are the 6 stages of becoming a joint pulsing superhero:

1. Make the joints open, make the joints close.


2. Make the joints close, let the joints open. (the second part is passive)


3. Make the joints open, let the joints close.


4. Put opening the joints inside of closing the joints, and put closing the joints inside of opening the joints.


5. Dissolve the closing and opening of the joints.


6. Dissolve the intention to open and close the joints.

Joint Pulsing

In the bad old days of Taijiquan, there was hardly any detailed teaching beyond forms correction and simple push-hands. Now-a-days, there is tons of teaching and it's getting more open all the time. What constitutes the body of taijiquan basic knowledge is really growing.

So I expect most people have heard this simple description of jin:

Peng: Twist outward, close the joints, qi rising.

Ji: Twist outward, open the joints, qi rising.

Lu: Twist inward, close the joints, qi sinking.

An: Twist inward, open the joints, qi sinking.

This is the internal structure of Taijiquan, it is one of many steps used to unify the whole body. It is the way you transform your external body's shape so that you can issue power in many different ways. It is not the source of power.

If these "mechanics" are still murky for you or your student, I suggest trying peng to the back, with your arms behind you. For it to work your peng will become: Twist inwards, close the joints and bring qi up from the heels (instead of the "bubbling well.")

Now, many people have pointed out that the opening move in many styles of Taijiquan, where both the wrists rise up in front, is usually called peng and is done with the whole body rising. This is because the jin, the method for issuing power, is left in a potential state called shi. The term shi, has a huge number of meanings including: a taut bowstring, a trigger, and strategic advantage.  This can not be taught by watching, it must be felt.

Philosophy of Fear

Imagine you are a wolf, or some other predator, who is absolutely terrified. Not just passing fear, but the kind of fear that colors everything. Tree branches could fall on you at at any moment, the sun burns and dehydrates, the night freezes. Even the air you breath is frightening.

When you enter a fight, it is with total fear. You must kill to survive, but because everything is experienced through fear, nothing is treasured, and there is nothing to defend. You fight because you are afraid, but you are no more afraid of this opponent than you are of your own mother.

The entire universe is out to get you. Because every centimeter of your being is fear, there is no way to tense up. Fear has already permeated everything.

This is one path to Dao. It is the path of the Shaman-warrior, who charges off into battle, Baguazhang style, with a deadly poisonous five-steps-down snake in each hand.

Contrast all this with total transcendence. The vision you hold of the cosmos has become so expansive that the entire human race's existence is less than a mite on a fleas ear. You experience yourself, not in terms of your own birth and death, but as part of this gigantic, unfathomable, limitlessness.

For you a fight is no different than walking or riding a bicycle. You are utterly fearless because your own death is no more significant than anyone, or anything, else's. Because your detachment is so complete, you have nothing to defend.

This is another path to Dao. It is the path of perfection, it is how gods are made.

What if you didn't know why you are here? or where you are going? What if fear came up and then dispersed easily? What if transcendence came and went like the clouds? What if not knowing were actually the only constant? What if you were just normal?

When you fight it is a dance. You treasure every bit of flying dust, every rotating muscle, the ground and the sky. You use no technique at all. Because you accept not being able to control the future, you have no need for intermediaries, like technique, strategy, or even hope. Your only tool is intimacy.
This is called the path of wuwei, it is also a path to Dao.

"You have no doubt heard of those who are good at nourishing life."

Labor Day Weekend

I'm working on some posts about fear, but they aren't finished yet.

I'm being pulled away to go play, so no blog today, but I have been leaving comments on the last few post of FormosaNeijia that readers may find interesting, like this one below:

Well, yes, you should know and train every technique in the form with an active partner, preferably one that is better than you and starts nice but gets rougher. I was taking that for granted.
Still, I’m starting to think the Bridge idea is in conflict with Taijiquan theory. My training in Chinese martial arts, in general (Northern Shaolin, Lan Shou, Xingyi, Bagua) taught me not to defend. In taiji theory every centimeter of your being is in the fight, if you dedicate some part of your body to defense at the moment of contact you might as well put your neck out and offer it to your opponent as a snack.

Three Schools of Chinese Medicine

I have said before that most medicine comes from war.

Why? because that's when famine and pestulance are most likely to happen. That's when injuries, trauma, infections and disentary can be treated on mass. Infectious diseases have a habit of spreading quickly through troops living in close proximity to each other.

Knowledge about womens health, pediatrics and degenerative illness is more likely to be advanced during times of great wealth and prosperity.

Chinese village doctors were often part of a "big family," which meant that they were treating most of the descendants of known lineages. Because of this they were likely to see all the hereditary expressions of a particular genetic line. This made it possible to accumulate great knowledge about weaknesses and diseases which are inherited.

While medical knowledge in China was often past down father to son, and too often was secret. There is also a long tradition of publishing best practices.

Starting in the Tang Dynasty (600-900 CE), Chinese governments gave exams, and officially certified competent doctors.

The two dominant metaphors of Chinese medicine are the circulation system and the digestive system.

Circulation is associated with the North and acupuncture. It conceives of health in terms of a complex plumbing system, clogs, narrowing, pooling, not enough pressure, etc....

Digestion is associated with the South and herbal formulas. It conceives of all parts of the body in terms of digestive function, assimilation, elimination, appetite, fermentation, purification, etc....

A third metaphor, which tends to be associated with martial arts, is a well integrated structure. It conceives of every part of the body as having it's own optimal shape and way of moving. Each part contributes to a complete, well integrated whole moving form. If one part of the body is not moving the way it is supposed to, it will effect all other parts of the the structure. For instance, a liver that doesn't move like a jellyfish when active, will slowly, over years, change the shape and alignment of the bones. An injury to the neck will effect the dexterity of the hand.