part0013

“The reason lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place is that the same place isn’t there the second time.” — Willie Tyler

“Him down now” is a simple statement. The phrase has no conjunctions, no ands, no buts, no equivocations, and no tangents. The phrase contains three words and is as clear and concise as it can possibly be.

Remove one word from it and it doesn’t have the same meaning. In fact, the three-word phase ether loses its emphasis or its object. For example, remove the word “him” and the declarative two-word sentence loses its direction. It is a game we can play as we remove a word or two and see the loss of object or context, but our point here is to internalize the phrase not decipher it.

It is also important to be clear that the phrase, “him down now” was laid on us by Marc MacYoung. If you don’t know who he is, some background is in order. You see, growing up on gang-infested streets not only gave Marc his street name “Animal,” but also extensive firsthand experience about what does and does not work in real life when it comes to self-defense. In fact, he was first shot at when he was 15 years old and has since survived multiple attempts on his life, including professional contract hits.

Over the years, Marc has held a number of dangerous occupations including working as the director of a correctional institute, bodyguard, and bouncer. A lifelong martial artist, he teaches experience-based self-defense to police, military, civilians, and martial artists around the world. His is also a prolific writer who codified the five stages of violent crime, is one of the world’s foremost authorities on violence in society, and currently works as a court-recognized expert witness.

So, when a guy like that talks, we listen. And what he had to say has become foundational to how we practice and teach martial arts. It’s not about techniques, but rather about strategy. That simple phrase makes it clear that in order to end a fight with minimal risk to ourselves or those we may be protecting we have to act quickly, aggressively, and with purpose. And, putting the other guy (or gal) on the ground is an excellent way of doing that.

Martial arts in general, and karate in particular, can have many purposes. The question becomes, what are those purposes and how do we discern the difference between form and function? Beautiful form has little utility unless it functions as intended under pressure.

Karate can be practiced slowly and precisely, becoming very much like tai chi , just as tai chi can be performed swiftly and with great violence like karate, yet either one can be effective on the street. And, either one can be pursued for health and meditation benefits in addition to, or instead of, self-defense. Consequently, when training, our purpose and direction must be clear so that we are focused on the appropriate outcomes. If we wish to train for self-defense, that purpose must trump, but not necessarily replace, all the other aspects of our art.

Architecture is a great, real-world example of purpose in execution. For instance, the Bronze and Iron ages combined spanned roughly 1,100 years from about 1700 BC to 600 BC. The architecture of those times was dominated by the roundhouse (the dwelling, not the technique). Virtually everyone from peasants to princes utilized them.

The roundhouse was a fairly simple structure. Vertical posts were driven into the ground in a circle and then waddle and dob was applied. The waddle was a weaving of slender limbs that went in between the posts. The dob was made of mud, straw, hair, and dung which was blended together and then applied onto the inside and outside of the walls, in the same fashion as modern stucco, to create a smooth surface that protected inhabitants from the elements. The roof was applied in the shape of a cone, with a bit of overhang so that water would drip away from the walls during rainy season and not damage the roundhouse or its foundation.

A roundhouse was by no means elegant, but it was used for so long because it was simple and effective. It could be built by pretty much anyone with readily available resources, and required little in the way of tools or machining to put together. In contrast cathedrals were not living quarters like roundhouses, they were designed as holy places meant to inspire the populace.

The earliest medieval cathedrals were built in the Norman or Romanesque style, with heavy columns supporting great rounded arches, whereas Victorian cathedrals built later on are famous for their spires and intricate artwork. This style helped separate them from buildings designed for the people’s day-to-day existence. Their architecture pulls visitors away from the mundane world and transports them to the sacred with soaring stone ceilings, archways, stained glass windows, and magnificent decorations.

Contrast between these two structures is both significant and profound. Karate needs to be the same, designed with clarity of purpose. All of the traditional Okinawan and Japanese karate systems were designed, built, and organized by their founders for one primary purpose, to end fights instantly. To put the other person on the ground and do it now.

Sure, there are other benefits that come with martial arts training, but we cannot self-actualize our way out of danger. Ending fights is the lens through which we must focus our training and judge the viability of our applications. Anything that does not immediately accomplish that objective has been misunderstood, misinterpreted, or misapplied.

When we look at effective karate, the main take away is that it needs to solve this one simple problem as efficiently as possible. Every movement during a violent altercation must further our goal of putting the adversary on the ground, preferably by knockout, so that we will remain safe. It’s all about applying damage to another person’s body that allows us to escape the danger that they represent.

Done properly, the adversary never gets a choice, never gets a turn, never has a chance. We impose our will, placing the threat in a reactionary position where he or she is unable to execute their intentions successfully. In doing so we implement Animal’s declaration. It’s all about him down now.

A challenge with tandem drills is that they must be realistic enough to reinforce proper application and street-worthy technique, yet safe enough that we do not injure ourselves or our training partners. Some practitioners like to use protective gear for this purpose, but even then, certain techniques like neck cranks must be curtailed in the name of safety. Consequently, we prefer a “one-step” drill where everything is on the table.

This drill is performed as a tandem exercise done in slow motion. One partner initiates a move and the other partner matches his or her speed making a single motion to respond. We each get only one movement before it becomes the other person’s turn. React to the opponent’s blows so that the ebb and flow of the fight is more-or-less realistic. The drill continues without resetting until the allotted time expires, or one person or the other end ups in a position from which they cannot continue and have to reset. Since our mindset is “him down now” that will presumably be a short period of time.

Even though we move slowly, it is vital to use proper body mechanics and targeting as well as to move at equal speed. It is okay to speed things up a bit, especially when working with experienced practitioners, so long as both partners are operating at the same speed, in control, and safe. Nevertheless, we should keep things slow enough that we have time to evaluate and take advantage of the “best” opening available and talk to each other so that we will learn what we are doing correctly in addition to discovering opportunities we may have missed during the exercise.

In this fashion we train to habituate good techniques. We can do the exact same things on the street, only faster and more forcefully. This drill should not become our only means of training, yet it is valuable enough to merit emphasis.