it doesn’t have to be stupid nirvana spring 2008 through...

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NIRVANA rough IMPACT NIRVANA rough IMPACT IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE STUPID INSIDE Q.B.U.D. QUIET BREATH UNDER DURESS ~ STUART LAUPER GEEZER MAN On Indian Time Being a Bad-Ass At the End of the Day ~ JAMES PAINTER Saying Uncle ~ EUGENE ROBINSON Fight Night At the Calusa Casino SELF-HEAL The WARRIOR WAY ~ WILLEM DE THOUARS VOLUME 1, NO. 2 SPRING 2008

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Page 1: It Doesn’t Have to be stupID NirvaNa Spring 2008 Through ...eurekaproductions.tv/images/publications/nirvanav1no2.pdf · NirvaNa Through impact NirvaNa Through impact It Doesn’t

NirvaNa Throughimpact �

NirvaNa Through

impact

It Doesn’t Have to be stupID

InsIde

Q.B.U.D.QuIet Breath under duress

~ stuart Lauper

Geezer Man On Indian Time

Being a Bad-assat the end of the Day

~ James paInter

Saying Uncle~ eugene roBInson

Fight nightat the Calusa Casino

SelF-Heal The WarrIOr Way

~ WILLem de thouars

volume 1, no. 2

Spr

ing

200

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NirvaNa Throughimpact�

EurEka ProductionSGold medal, grass-roots video & books

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“All the News that Doesn’t Fit at a Prime Time of Your Convenience”

SAYING UNCLE“Don’t you just feel so spiritually in TUNE after working out?” The speaker was a

sort of granola-y transplant that had been drawn to California by the light and the space. “So...cool.” And just as quickly as those words were spoken and hung in the air, it was quite clear: we were not only in different states, but on different planets. You see, I never have described what happens to me while training or fighting as

being DIRECTLY spiritually uplifting. Maybe down the road whilst luxuriating in the glow of some victory, yes. But in the short term? Most definitely not. And this is not because I’m not a fan of spiritual uplift. Of this, I most certainly am: a baby’s laugh, a lover’s sigh. Yup. All spiritually uplifting. But none of these are what’s happening to me when I sprint down into the dark alley of my mind where all of my most intense workouts happen. No. You see for me training and fighting ex-ists in the place where all accounts are leveled. The place where “I show YOU” and most importantly where a battle is fought that pits me against me. On the one hand there is the me that’s built for comfort, lazy days on the couch, and a world where everything is alright always because we all get just about that lucky. On the other hand there is the me that’s built for the world of prevailing truths: those who can fight historically do better than those who cannot, the strong survive and the meek just inherit dirt. And until things change aggressively in my world view, there’s only going to be one winner here and the winner is: the man pre-pared. Which is to say that it doesn’t take much for me to be ready for the couch, but it takes a whole lot to be set for kicking ass. Physically, emotionally, technically, and yeah, even spiritually. So I err on the side of caution and completeness and descend into our baser instincts for conquest and domination every single work out. I dredge up old indignities and new. I work slights both real and imagined. And I create an emotional readiness that sticks and lingers with me like a good friend so when I meet face on a question like

“what the hell are YOU looking at?” that I am never at a loss for an answer: someone who is about to get hurt [and I’m not talking about feelings]. This is not so much about being a bad ass, or even bad, as it is about knowing that in this far less than perfect world in which we live a nuanced approach to the ways in which it is imperfect will serve us well. Much better, maybe, than this idea that noble, spiritually significant values and virtues will rescue us. Better, and in the long run, more useful. And so it goes that my workouts continue to be places where rage and thoughts of retribution meet. So ... cool.

Eugene Robinson

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Hey, I’m a geezer; not only do I admit it, but I announce it as “Geezerman” (a.k.a. Samu of the Sierras/Samalander). The thing is though,

I’m very dense, seventy years of materiality not withstanding. In my last trip to Yosemite, with my second ex-wife who I follow around in abstract penance of all my earlier (20 years earlier) male ordered beliefs in gender preference (only belatedly realizing she, in igniting my male fancy had allowed me to disappear under the surface without even making a legit effort to swim to shore – I got this image of struggling to shore from her current bedtime book of disasters; after ‘famous bear attacks’ came ‘famous mountain lion attacks’ and now it’s “Off the Wall/Death in Yosemite.”) Anyway, I learned during my last trip to Yosemite from Ranger Mike on a geological walk that all the big hard stuff in the valley came from pressure and heat some miles below the surface way back when; when was then, before it bubbled up (tectonic plate diving hadn’t helped either.)

Pressure With each inhalation I try to cook it inside before releasing its energy to the surface (actually years ago I almost did the rear naked choke to myself because I had read in an early 1900s book by E.J. Harrison called “Fighting Spirit of Japan” that guys juiced themselves and immediately packed it on by wearing a belt cinched TIGHT (Pavel says he can do that now with his PATENTED breathing method). What I hadn’t figured out was that they probably loosened the belt when they ate and while digesting, so even though the expert doctors never accepted my analysis that the way I earned a left ventricle myxoma (obstruction between ventricles of heart; very rare and INTERESTING to med schools) – which, when I finally figured out why I felt I had pneumonia but didn’t, I was destined for the Martinez V.A. Hospital. The cardiologist who finally got it, (“Hey, this is cool – you’re in gridlock!”) thought the Palo Alto V.A. with its attending world famous surgeons from Stanford would have a real INTEREST and he got me so transferred and so I had a free ride by letting residents from all over the world hear my three beat heart rhythm. (The clavé.) Anyway I’ve still been very interested in “pressure” and while not quite as stupid as in my first caper, I did manage to bring my blood pressure to pre-boil condition while constantly practicing

the old Chinese exercise ‘bend the bow and shoot the arrow,” which I did with a short loop of climber’s rope that I usually wore on my belt – I told people that in case I

should fall into an abyss, I could pull myself out.

A Little Too Much Bend I thought this would not terminate all circulation as the Japanese dynamic tension exercise called “sanchin” had done

— even before I added the belt. But I must have applied a little too much effort in the bend part. The long and short of it is – and I’m pretty short – is that I’m DENSE. So when I practice grappling and fighting skills with the amalgamized group of Washoe, Pauite, Shoshone and various other intermingled races down the mountain on the Nevada side from where I live near Lake Tahoe, I’m taken seriously if only because I can take a good amount of abuse – probably because I am DENSE. As a kid, before I went into the army, and then college in New York, I had lived on a ranch 100 miles on dirt roads from Elko, Nevada and just across the Idaho border from the Owyhee Indian Reservation from where my dad, who was cow boss of the ranch would hire cowboys. These days Saints (a training partner and my ‘elder’ brother) might be the great-grandson of one of those cowboys and whose mother lives in Owyhee, and I circuitously came around the back side of our particular life trips to reconnect. Why the editor of this journal and I had a much higher probability of encountering each other after all these years as we were both in Greenwich Village and editing literary journals at the same time and I was “walking the boards” at Drinking Establishments he might have wasted some hours within. That was before I fell from grace and hitched on out of the Apple.

Geezer Rules But Saints and I have grappled some years together. He’s about 300 pounds and a professional cage fighter in gambling casinos such as the Colusa Casino and I’m not 300 pounds and I’m no pro, but I am DENSE and I’m allowed Geezer Rules – ANYTHING GOES. But we make sure we protect our training partners. Pain and bruises (especially the big yellow and maroon ones) are ok but

Man on Indian Time

Geezer deals with Prison Rock’n’roll and good side voodoo

Continued, page 5

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NirvaNa Throughimpact�

AYou know, I’ve been through many things in my life. I’ve

been through eight blade fights and I won by some stupidity – nothing skillful. When I see high ranking martial artists

getting into fights, I say, “This is just bonkers!” Martial technique doesn’t exist. What works in my life is isometrics and that’s the reason I’ve lived a little longer. Jack laLane was a master of his time. I don’t look at martial arts masters. If I go to a master, he says “chi gong this, chi gong, chi gong,” and I get headaches. It’s silly because since that is what he says, that’s what you have to do, but it is annoying because chi gong has become so educated, like a university. In my days, chi gong and fighting were one, but now everything is separated. We do martial arts to stay healthy and to reach out to others. I have done my job and after next August, I am not going to do seminars anymore. Do you know why? Because I have trained people that can do it. I have touched people. I have put out the seed. My job is to bring people together, not to show how great I am. You might ask why I am not impressed with this martial artist or that martial artist. Maybe it’s because I see that he is sick all the time. Martial arts are wonderful, but let’s have compassion for what is missing in our life. In my life I’m blessed, I go out and listen to music. I am just a simple man. In my younger days aboard ship as a merchant marine, I fought a man I called Dog Face and Dog Face came back at me. I had a pot of coffee and I threw it in his face. I took advantage of the situation. There was no martial art, no kung fu, and no kun tao. Let me tell you a story. There was a big fight with an American, a Dutch, a Frenchman and an Englishman. The Englishman was a healthy marine. I am not kidding you, his muscles were like cables and I was a skinny kid. I kicked him, and he came back at me - he grabbed me and I was in the corner and I thought, “Oh, no! I am going to die!” He was going to kill me. I felt his grip, I was a skinny guy, so I saw a rock with a sharp edge and I busted his skull. The rock did the work, not my skills. Another time, we were fighting Dutch marines. This one guy was huge, so I said “Oh, man! Oh, man—help!” I spit in his face, I got a cue and I punched him in the neck with it. That was a technique that worked. Kung fu did not work. There is another story I’ll share with you. We were two whopper shoppers, stupid kids. There was this man, we called him Long Tall Sally, and he was a Dutchman with a jab. What a boxer! I thought my kung fu didn’t work and I thought I had this lousy teacher. My teacher told me, “All you have to do is inhale keep your breath in and now explode, and you have a deadly punch!” So I said okay and then I inhaled and exploded. Long Tall Sally hit me in the side of the head, and I said, “Oh, shit, my kung-fu doesn’t work!” I said, ”Jack, you know our kung-fu sucks!” So I wondered what we were going to do to that would make

Self-Heal the Warrior WayWhy We’re Here

Willem de Thouars

us win. There was a cigarette butt of Long Tall Sally‘s, so I grabbed it and applied it, and Jack got a rock and hit him. Long Tall Sally lost. Our teacher was saying you have to stay in the praying mantis, in the correct form, but at the time, I got punched in the face.

In my life lessons, I stay humble. I have learned many skills, but the monkey taught me the most. People say that the blocks work, and they do work when you do it like the

monkey. I don’t mean to pick on silat because that is my family art. Silat teaches many movements, but you don’t fight with those movements. The street fighter, he always fights with a stone in his hand, so he can bang his opponent on the head. I am not picking on Silat. It is a good art. Karate is a good art, if you know how to use it. Too many people are not researching whether an art really works.

I come to these seminars and I am just a player. I hope you don’t mind when I speak my mind, and I appreciate all of you and all your skills. We need chi gong healing. When I look at the martial arts, I also see how much of healing there is in the art and love in the art. You also have to understand the culture. Indonesian people are always laughing, saying “Yea yea, you got me!” But five minutes later they say, “I am going to kill you.” I’ve seen it so many times. Like in a coffee shop, one guy will come at you with a blade like a fish hook, so all you do is hit someone and pull them up. I’ve seen people who’ve said how wonderful their kun tao is get stabbed and killed. I hope you understand, I’ve lived through many different things by God‘s Grace. What is really practical in life are boxing, grappling and soccer. If you put those three together, you have a solid defense. But we do martial arts, whatever it is, to stay healthy. Our practice makes us healthy, that’s what we are doing here.

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not lasting damage. (There have been some issues with biting — so I now simply call out BITE! For the reflexive quarter inch of space.) Actually the ANYTHING GOES exception I enjoy comes from Saints’ teacher and uncle, James, who has nurtured his various kin when they get out of prison where he himself was previously and after which he pursued his college education and why his martial style is naturally called ‘AMERICAN PRISON ROCK & ROLL’ jujitsu. However, it’s a lot safer than the popular Brazilian styles which have a lot of rules and competitiveness and not so much a sense of protecting your partner. So, if you react naturally with whatever tool or trick is at hand, you might be threatened by them as I was with GANGBANGING.

Indian Time Now there are things that happen on Indian Time that are wonderfully far from gringo culture but without having to travel as far, say, as Afghanistan where people also display gifts of CONNECTION with you in ways that even seem intimate to us gringos, but are seen through the smoky glass of culture and language. My Native American friends are able to translate these old similarities and connection in actually the same language as me (Hey, I’m a gringo, what can I tell you?) and immediately comprehensible acts of family or tribal in the broad sense, inclusion. The Brazilians and our Native Americans feel grappling

“brings people together.” At least we’re comfortable with touching, something WHITE BREAD AMERICA avoids. There are some Indian issues like not being able to find the state of Colorado or the island of Long Island no matter how close to bridge or tunnel, but more on that later. However, not being in gringo linear time allowed Saints’ brother to drive to Nevada City from across Nevada on the chance that his cousin Ray, from Reno, might be grappling with us one Saturday. He was. Now in the area of CATCH AS CATCH CAN, other cultures do come into play – for instance, my Chinese friend Tom who has a healing practice all over the world, but most frequently can be found in Boston practicing “Lazy Bum Healing,” (I’m known as Lazy Bum 25) teaches the like-minded (Jungian collective unconscious) which he appropriates in a big time Chinese accent. He was hounded by Massachusetts authorities when he started placing acupuncture needles in a model of a human figure with the meridians painted on it. VOODOO? However, this is what most convinces my Indonesian friends who say they know it’s true because they had the flip side (you know, VOODOO) done to them when they were young and

their minds were weak. (Willem told me that.) But Tom’s lawyer made him switch to little magnetic hammers for PROTECTIVE COLORATION so I watch where I am when I tap on my acupuncture figure to break up old chi (energy). On the other hand, there are gringos who can drop into the depths of the egalitarian subculture of ‘friends of the hidden energy of the body.’ Kind of like the secret world of the very deepest sea, replete with creatures never seen but in a dream.

Fighting with Friends A very amiable but fierce resident of this world, Stewart from Denver, who with his unlikely sophisticated but cage fighting students, comes out several times a year to Northern California to fight with friends. He arrives for an invitation-only twice yearly gathering of friends from around the country in the Sierras to FIGHT FOR THE FUN OF IT. (The motto of this gathering also being

“Nirvana through impact.”) Where the warm-up includes THE MERCY DRILL where punches are freely given and accepted until all have cried “mercy” (or gone down precipitously) and only one person stands. This is a private party for those just crazy enough to prefer fighting with friends instead of BIG BUCKS. If you do that long enough, as well as with having your back broken several times, not to mention too many concussions to count, then even if you are in your fifties and a heavy hitter financially, you are no longer a member of the American middle class. Even more oddly, wisdom and humor seem to have attached to Stewart so that he is often the source of “transmission,” which mean others who have met him perhaps once get the hang of things — EVEN TANGLE LIKE A WOLVERINE — much faster when in his company than is usual for them. He also represents Willem in making sure everyone GETS THEIR CHESTS WET (banging).

Geezer Man Continued from

page 3

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Overcoming Fear with Laughter And sometimes even our sense of humor improves — DON’T TAKE YOURSELF SO SERIOUSLY! — and he is spokesman for his Dutch-Indonesian mentor Willem, who gleefully wreaks vengeance on the very much present Klu Klux types of Denver for whom he so often has had looking over his shoulder while he bent metal as a machinist. Once when quitting just in time from a firm so populated, he built an air gun powered by one of the shop’s high pressure hoses and fired hot dogs at his tormenters though a carefully rifled barrel. (SUDDEN IMPACT.) Some of the tricks for achieving density, such as falling against walls taught by Mr. Chern, my mentor in Taiwan, induces PERCUSSION and RESONANCE as does swinging your arms against your torso – “BODY DRUMMING” – or twisting in place like a barber pole. These tricks my Indian friends don’t find necessary probably because of genetically large bodies, some pretty over the top diets and a wonderfully culturally induced relaxation. They achieve density by merely LETTING GO (see enclosed witnessing: “Fight Night in The Colusa Casino.”) For myself I usually save it for gas stations to fall against the occasional upright strong enough to allow it or if the uprights are fake and have a veneer of light sheet metal then I resort to

“popping” off them – thanks to Arthur – letting the percussion come through my feet. (SHAKING THE GUM OFF.) If one is determined to be excessive in pursuing this investigation of becoming more than mere meat, it’s best to be at least a little circumspect though. Still if you’re a geezer and you intend to deal with hundreds of pounds of man on you, you’d better get used to not panicking, by wrestling some iron; Pavel teaches that. Like other passionate members of a functioning family, my friends, who while they like to THROW DOWN unlike myself as I only fight my friends (a bartender friend, Peter from New York said that to erstwhile challengers), they are open-hearted in an intimate and gracious way. James, who before moving to Vegas for a while, was unofficial head of Reno’s casino bouncers (“Move it or lose it, pal.”) and since returning to Reno area, trains only those people he likes, in a freezing, half-finished building behind his house, somewhere near the “rez” in Washoe Valley, while earning a living amongst other things by janitoring a friend’s restaurant. But when asked by a small foundation with VERY eclectic tastes if he would accept some funding he said, “Thanks, but I’ve got everything I need.”

Anyway, that is preamble to a sentence that declares James has a free hand, as testified by such regular gifts as BOB a humanoid design of a punching bag, which while in my office never fails to make me go, “Oh, shit!” on entering in dim light.

Finding the Right Stats Saints on the other hand has literally traveled many hundreds of miles to keep an eye on my wild sons. If he has an obligation to be some place you could bet the store he will hitch or walk to be there on time (or some other state but on time.) And of course they often have cars that are ready to drop a transmission or break an axle, but their slam bang intention to get where they need to get, gets one more trip out of wheels that no sane person would put on the road. And despite the history of European and Original peoples in this country and despite being relocated to ghettos and even if having PARTICIPATED IN THE INCARCERATION INDUSTRY in this country as inmates, they are so assured in their right to be here as citizens that they are completely unintimidated by authority, pushing back and demanding a good reason (ORIGINAL HOMELAND SECURITY) for unsolicited law enforcement attentions. “ARE YOU ARMED?” James: “JUST WITH THESE” (holding up fists like side-roasts). Bob (the humanoid punching bag), Tom (of the voodoo dolls – a description we try not to use) and AUTHORITY came together when trying to call India; 911 is part of the code and the investigating officers entered the house with weapons drawn because they had seen “Bob” from outside the house, “hulking” over one of my kids presumably writing a ransom letter on the computer. But Bob has done some cool things too. One day at James’ on the desert side of the Sierras, Bob stood in for one of Tom’s acupuncture figures and by punching him lightly as substitute for tapping (as appropriate to an acupuncture figure of a mere twelve inches whereas Bob is six feet), we were able to find the GRAND CIRCULATION in Bob. We knew that Ryan who had arrived at training after driving out from under the wallet with his rent and his life in it which he had placed on top of his car, would be found. It was. I would say one of the coolest things I’ve learned on INDIAN TIME is that light and primordial sound (a little more primitive than OHM) take you out of mere meat into something before. AND THAT MY FRIEND IS A TRIP.

NirvaNa Throughimpact�

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At my school when I’m training a lot and training pretty hardcore — what I think is really hard —the thing is that I try not to do it to hurt anyone. That’s why I like to grapple. With grappling you can go hard and not hurt

anyone. The thing is not to take numerous shots to the head, like in boxing. I used to box and you get a lot of soft tissue damage, so we try to avoid that. Grappling is a good way to avoid that. You can go hard and have a lot of contact, but not hurt each other too much... So we do a lot of jiu jitsu there but we do a lot of boxing also but we’re trying to move away from that so you don’t have soft tissue damage, you won’t have brain damage later in life. If you’re grappling, you know, tapping out before it goes too far and you get hurt. I have a lot of students and I’m kind of too nice to them in the sense where I let them beat me up a lot or I don’t hurt them back. I always tell people, “I never hurt anyone unless I mean to hurt them.” And you should have the responsibility of that too, you students, don’t hurt anyone unless you mean to hurt them. Yeah, you got to go out there and hit somebody so they know what it feels like to be hit back, but the thing is not to go out there and just hurt people. I had a lot of instructors that were like that, and I try not to be like that. I wanted to reiterate what Stewart was saying earlier. A lot of my life was thinking about stuff that happened in the past or things that I’m going to do. But the thing is really about what’s happening right now. These are the good old days. There’s going to be a time when Willem’s not going to be here anymore, or someone’s not going to come to the seminar or they can’t make it or whatever, and we kind of have to appreciate what’s going on right now. I sat for a long time and talked to Willem

about helping kids. I mean, a lot of people look at me, and I’m a pretty competent fighter, and I have a lot of really tough students, but in a sense it’s like what Stewart said, “At the end of the day being the toughest guy in the room and $1.50 will get you a ride on the bus.” It’s not that big of a deal to be so ego driven to have to be the toughest. I have nothing to offer any kid. I can’t teach them how to do artwork or anything like that. I’m just a street fighter. That’s all I am. In a sense I feel kind of bad about it because Willem was telling me he’s going to go teach kids art and all I can teach anyone is to hurt somebody. That’s the only thing I can do. It’s important for self-defense, yes, but there’s another side of it that I have no grasp of, other than developing character. I’m trying to ascend being just a street fighter, or whatever I am. I just teach people how to fight. But building better people? I’m trying. Make myself a better person? I don’t know, but I’m trying, at least I’m aware of it and trying to do that. It seems self-evident, over the last four or five years, it may be happening. I come here and I learn a lot from a lot of people, just talking to them or watching and I appreciate that. It has expanded my mind a lot and opened my horizons. You guys have accepted me for who I am and what I do, and I try to accept you guys too. I thank everyone for that, for having the chance to come up here and work out with you guys and see you guys. That’s really humbling to me because I don’t think I’m at the same level as all of you guys. I’m just a street fighter, and not that good of a street fighter really. I just know some stuff because I’ve experienced a lot. But the thing is I’m trying to expand my mind as everyone here is, and I think that is the best that we can ask for. So thank you all.

At the End of the Day Being a Bad Ass and a Buck Fifty Gets You a Ride on the Bus

James Painter

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Fight Night

ot taking the usual John deere salesman cut-off through the valley town

of Colusa Where lights are out by nine and main street has begun the boarding up usual

to towns without local needs.

I kept going instead on state route 4a couple of miles past downtownnear a levee of the sacramento riverJust off highway 20’s escape to the seaWhere on a blistering summer dayIt could cost a quarter forChevron water to cool your dog.

now like a monstrous paddle wheelerFlooding from its courseLying without pity in an abandoned cotton field as original people’s just vengeance there as the Colusa Casino Causeway of a surviving pueblo Close enough

Fight Night

to the great valley’s bumper crop of condos that no act of domestic violence should occur on fight night at the casino Because most county deputies would be directing parking In the muddy stubble of hostilely harvested but thoroughly subsidized cash crops.

though fight night was but atemporary diversion fromexpectant one-armed banditsnow with digitized prosthetics waitingFor busloads of chair-bound quarter players and certainly administered without mercy By corporate consultants from the gaming industry riding Crazy horse all the way to the bank Warding off sitting Bull’s ambuscade until Buffalo Bill’s descendants have scalped the last dollar From the flood tide of sacramento’s rootless evacuees from ancestral place held back by a levee of Industrialized agricultural desert Increasingly broached by 1,000 acre planned

at the Colusa Casinocommunities paving over top soil first distilled by mine tailings then salted by factory monoculture so why not at least the manifest destiny of K.B. homes et al so that newly required freeways can support a system of centrally planned malls Linked by an exodus of real needs.

still at the door of the casinothere was pause enough for a posseof assembled scalpers of public mayhemBefore it was possible to enterWhat seemed the requiredIndustrial management of personsWith plastic beer cups-provided to prevent uninsurable damage-

directed down chutes to feed on video poker not to mention dollar machines Fine tuned to the house margin.

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Fight Night Fight Night padded boxing gloves to lengthen the fun there

was blood but probably not the brain damage of regulated competitive blood lust.

If I could have been privy to breathI suspect most were heldWhile waiting for the gateto close behind.

of course there was a purse -a few hundred can seem a lot when you’re Behind in your rent in Yuba City or Williams.

our man saints entered the ring withthe same smile he has for asaturday workout with friendsnot having to hop himself upInto rage, shades of abu gibentirely large but without any posturesClearly at last the natural warrior.

saints ambled into the cage, wasIntroduced, received the impact of hisopponent’s powerful charge, went relaxed to the ground as on any saturday, letting his opponent in the mount position exhaust himself in his need to render real damage What can be marginally understood in words Is that he was on the bottom receiving blows With criminal intent behind them though in a relaxation impossible to fathom.

Where does that letting go spring fromIf not his genetic structure allowingFingers casually bent back to forearm

Was there actually straw strewn for footing or was it specifically designed inside-outside carpeting of suitable design.

County deputies inside at the venue box office checked for weapons and correctly dated tickets. Inside too were the tattooed camp followers of the generation Kill invasion force perhaps too smart to volunteer But more than able to levitate to america the Beautiful.

Certainly t-shirts and embroidered jackets conveyed some interest in pugilistic endeavors. Where banquets and bingo were more usual Was now a raised stage With a fence and a gate In fact a cage! surrounded by folding chairs.

an announcer, perhaps moonlighting from the black jack table announced that in the holds Barred cage fighting there were a few rules unlike two rule fighting Where the first rule is there are no rules and the second is you can’t Change the first.

there was a lot of noiseFrom boisterous greetings amongstthe first couple of rowsof stacked up familiars and huggersmy friend santiago, aka saints, was to be in the tenth or eleventh bout and he waited quietly backstage In a large tent set up as the dressing room, a propane heater sucking out unnecessary oxygen.

he sat in the calm demeanor ofthe shoshone warrior he is,Long hair in braids for hygieneand etiquette, as though theremerely to cook.

the announcer, though, had other fish to fry and by the time he remembered the issue at hand the somewhat thick mini-skirted Fight night placard girls had signaled the first fight In time to be chorused by “Kill the fucker!” “take him down!”

down is where quickly oneof the opposing pair foundhimself to be beaten intosubmission by the dominant fighterso that most fights were over in a couple of minutes; plenty of time left for gaming.

Wearing what look like thickWork gloves with no fingersthe hurt is real enoughBut without the safeguards of

and able to absorb blows like cottonhas it come to a generation not afraidof the old ways just asanikau rode the too tall waves for his father so founding fathers risk it all for those to come.

If you know we are at bottom but lightLet the suffering end and the waiting begin that’s what saint’s grandmother said to him and as those who do the time know, “don’t cry to me, it won’t help.”and for sure saints only nowhas a clue of that which is so trueBut what can you do so longas on the court spirit flows through.

he absorbed the force clearly into theCircle of his forefathersso that when he finally hooked hisBuffed out opponent with one legIn the half guard and then flipped him just so that now his blows rained down - how though were they so much heavier? - Were Crazy horse and sitting Bull lending support from off this stage or is ego the founding father of pain Why did his opponent, seemingly bred For this task alone and without the burden of a people’s memory - Why did he tap out after half the number of blows, none intended to kill, and no chorus of “hurt the fucker!”

Why?

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Quiet Breath Under DuressStewart Lauper’s Message to Those at Masters on the Mountain 14

The stuff we do, David Ayers and I, is really no different than what Frank and Sam do. If you watch each other do joint hands here, everyone is completely relaxed and comfortable and the energy is correct and

appropriate and the aggression is in check. That probably wasn’t always the case, when you get people who first start out they are either always too scared, insecure, aggressive or too competitive. They try to show you how good they are, and things like ego get in the way. But, through good patient training partners, they begin to understand they should be doing this to get the highest yield, to get the best benefit out of joint hands. We at Progressive Martial Arts do pretty much the same things. I thought the video, “Combat in the Classroom” that Sam sent me was remarkable on a lot of levels. You should see it so you know what I am talking about. The things that they can do, and the context that they can do it in with kids, which you probably couldn’t relate to by any other means, is amazing. Certainly we couldn’t do it with our style, because if you were boxing with kids like that they would either run away screaming, try to kill you or something like that. Actually, Steve Buck had a story of one of his kids that went off on him. The repressed anger and all the things like that were reported in the subsequent newsletter which was really well written. That to me was one of the best internal arts newsletters because it explains in detail what they are doing, how and why it works. I also thought that it was really good because it correlates well with what we are trying to do here, and you see there really was a method to my madness. Hopefully that will become apparent this weekend, maybe. I think it matches the Master on the Mountain 12 conversation Sam had with Phillip and Dan at Sam’s house. Sam was amazed when Phillip—a remarkable martial artist by the way—was saying, “I just kind of made the techniques up on the spot,” and you guys were like, “How can you make up techniques on the spot?” Actually Mr. de Thouars has done it for a long time. I’ve gone to seminars before where people ask in wonder, “What’s that!” and I’ve replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before either!” And again, it is something you and I can all do when you frame it in the correct context. A long time ago someone taught me basic words and a language structure and things like that. But on a daily basis you make up sentences that are completely original. I mean every time you utter a sentence you’re saying to yourself, “I’ve never said those words in a sentence before in that combination.” It’s all pretty natural. You heard Mr. de Thouars talking about how techniques are not important, and I would really agree with that. Mr. de Thouars certainly hasn’t taught me every martial technique that I know,

but the thing that he has done and that nobody else could ever have done for me, is that he really gave me that key to unlock the martial arts. I had probably 20 or more years background by the time I met him. I was young then and thought I was hot shit. I thought I could do stuff. However, he did some things that were probably designed to pull my pants down on the very first day, so if there was a question who was who, it got answered on that first day. It took a fairly long time to gain a formal introduction. Willem is not the kind of person you just call up and say, “Hey, how much for a couple of classes.” Everyone I asked said, in effect, “He is not training new people anymore,” or “He will just refer you to train with one of us.”

I said I would be happy to train with any one of you guys, but I just wanted the chance to ask Mr. de Thouars, which I admit was a rather precocious thing to be doing.So anyway, we had this first class and he couldn’t pronounce

my name very well so for the first year or so I was, Mr. Lobster. He goes, “Oh, Mr. Lobster, I understand you are a pretty fast puncher.” Being young and cocky, I said, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Willem told me to throw my fastest punch at his head. Uhhh... The thought ran through my mind, “Man I don’t want to hit this guy in the head on the first class!” But, all his seniors told me to do exactly what he asks you to do; they said if he says punch hard, to punch hard; if he says punch soft, punch soft. So he was just standing there like he always stands, and I threw a left jab at his head. He went out of the way, and hit the nerve at the back of my hand. It completely shut my arm off at the shoulder. My shoulder went dead. He said, “Okay, punch again, please.” I was like, “Sir, can I use my other hand?” and he said, “Ohhh sure!” So I punch, and the same thing happens. Now both arms are dead. I had an image of a Monty Python skit running through my head, and I was wondering if I should run in and head butt. My arms were dead for the next 15 minutes and they hurt like hell for all of the next week. However, it was a really playful environment. Mr. de Thouars gave me the ability, and I don’t do it as well as Keith, Chuck or Phillip, but to be able to make up spontaneous movement. He gave order to all of those other techniques that I had been learning my entire life, and a light bulb really went off in my head. I realized that this is what martial arts was really supposed to be like. Even for us Kun Tao guys, the classes were incredibly brutal. They were long and hard, they were every Friday and they were rough! If people weren’t getting smashed and yelping, Mr. de Thouars would be a little disappointed and think people didn’t want to be there or weren’t trying. Then again, that’s the old Chinese fashion. At the same time, and it sounds like an odd

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contradiction, but there was an odd sense of playfulness that was going on. One of Mr. de Thouars favorite sayings that I really like is, “Don’t take yourself too seriously.” Keep that in mind when you’re doing this stuff. You could be the best fighter in the world and there really is no advantage to that in real life. The best fighter in this room, whoever that is, is still going to have to pay for lunch just like everyone else. So there really is no tangible benefit to that at all. It was through that really rough play, but that play, that we got a method to think through our techniques. This whole idea of “quiet breath under duress” that you guys work with is the same thing that we do in standing meditation. The idea is to try and have a quiet breath when you move with joint hands and everything else, but you know as soon as you’re taken outside of your comfort zone you just get this frenetic energy and everyone is freaking out. Whether it’s fear, anger, aggression, competitiveness, insecurity or whatever it is, it takes people to a bad place. So we try to frame this in the context of a fun playful experience. We generally do this in a slower, more relaxed modality. When I first started coming out here we actually showed the end result, which is that you can fight anyone, anytime, anywhere and that you can remain really calm while doing so, without freaking out. The way that you get there is what you guys are already doing. You’re trying to be a good training partner, you’re trying to develop energy in both people, developing this synergistic chi, and developing root and jing. All those things are the same thing we do! I guess if you want to call it Indonesian push hands, it is just wider parameters in terms of what you can do. We work this technique relative to the individual. With some people you have to go really slow, you have to emit a really calm energy or they will get scared, and then other people are more comfortable and you can kind of ramp it up with them. At some point you can play the way you play and the fact of developing these good fighting skills is almost a by-product of developing the greater thing—good energy.

The gift that Uncle has given me is the way to walk through the world with that quiet breath. Not just when I fight but when I do everything. I think it makes you a better human. You can be around stressed, crazy,

angry people and have a calming influence on them. Certainly Mr. de Thouars has it. Psychologically it is called neurosomatic rapture, and you just feel better when you are around him. If he calls me up and says, “Hey do you want to have breakfast?” I immediately respond, “I am on my way!” So I feel like I get better just hanging out with him. I think you guys have probably experienced the same thing with him! That’s a unique quality that he has. There are probably other people that have it, but I haven’t met that many people with his unique empathy. Out here people I’m sure have come in with “that look,” like they want to tear off your head and crap in the hole. Then they find out its okay to just play and you don’t have to measure yourself every time you train with a partner. That’s why I really enjoy coming out here. So whatever we are doing today, you should try and have that base calmness. Because, again, in the bigger scheme of things being a great fighter really gives you no real advantage in life. But if you can walk through the world with that right energy, with that neurosomatic rapture, you really perhaps have the ability to change the course of human events, at least on a small, microcosmic level. Mr. de Thouars has changed my life, and if I could ever replicate that for one other person then I would feel a huge sense of achievement, and feel like my time on this planet was well spent.

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Saturday, June 7, 2008

this time in the nearby russian river area

Invited Instructors COSMe CaSTanIeTO the sierra’s own cosmic healer from a famous hawaiian lineage.Dr. MeIer SCHneIDer For decades teaching the lame to walk and the visually impaired (including himself) to see. Dr. ITaMar VInITzky health trainer of Israel’s national teams.

‘Dr.’ STepHen WaTSOn Will teach the amazingly powerful meridian line massage favorite of great fighters of old.DarCa nICHOlSOn Will offer her unique Yoga, famous in martial arts circles for freeing powerful, muscle-bound bodies.SIFU JaneT Gee Legendary martial arts teacher, health practitioner and artist in residence at the smithsonian. Will pass on the agile movements of the tiger.Frank BrOaDHeaD & rOGer SaDlO Will teach the absolute fun and total relaxation of Feldenkrais martial play. $75 for the day of your life. Free dVd of the day for the first 40 registrants.sponsored by redwood Coast tai Chi and sierra nevada Internal arts, the same who brought you “health, healing and knife fighting.” lOCaTIOn: healdsburg Yoga studio, 461 healdsburg ave., healdsburg, California, till 5 pm or whenever

aFTer HOUrS: James painter, founder of prison rock and roll Jiujitsu: “Wrestling for the fun of it and good health”

Quantum HealthMasters of Touch Seminar #27

Hands-On Healing for Those Who CareFor health practitioners, martial players, Yoga adepts and sports fanatics

“Self healing is the ultimate practice of the advanced martial artist.” ~WIlleM De THOUarS

60-year monkey Boxer

Register online www.mastersonthemountain.com

or call (800) 937-3142