Belated 2010 review & my best books of the year

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First off, I appreciate how late this, but I have been busier than ever with my various projects, which bodes well for 2011. I did consider not writing anything, as I thought moment had past, but in the end it was just too indulgent of a tradition let pass me by.

2010: The first year of a new decade, which again hasn’t received a title the majority are comfortable with. I really didn’t like the naughties as a term. It was just a non-word and totally unnecessary. For me, the 2000s, pronounced two thousands, worked in the same way as the 1900s. However, I have no issue with using the term twenty-ten. After all we were comfortable using the term nineteen as a prefix for the majority of the 20^th century. Saying two thousand and ten, which unfortunately seems to be the most popular way to say it, just seems a bit “In the year of our lord...” to me. Anyway, enough trivial debate, on with my annual review...

In memory of a teacher

Teachers are very important to me and it always sad hear about their passing. Today, 22 April 2010, I received the tragic news that Tony Hayes had died. Tony Hayes was my muay Thai kru for an intensive year of training in Warwick. During this time I travelled several times a week, had private lessons with him, represented his club at a judging course and was a part of his fortnightly "fight club". He awarded me my "Training Instructor" qualification shortly before the club closed. Below is an article I wrote for club's website - this was before my work was widely published in martial arts magazines and just before I began Clubb Chimera Martial Arts. There is a certain naivity in the writing and it reflects a time when Hayes Muay Thai was in its hayday. I haven't edited anything for fear it will take away what a good friend of mine calls "lived experience" of the time, so please forgive any grammatical errors. I offer it as my own way of remembering one of my teachers...

Sensei Farted

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Sensei Farted


All the students were excited about the new technique application they were about to be shown. Few were as enthusiastic about the new move as young Eimaj, a green belt known for his boundless energy and his curiosity. His usual affable nature was further heightened when sensei turned to him and said “Eimaj, you will be my uke”. Eimaj jumped up from the seiza position and walked towards sensei. Sensei smiled and began to explain the technique to the rest of the class as he put Eimaj into position. Eimaj was instructed to put sensei in a bear-hug. Sensei would then respond with a gakune pressure point attack to Eimaj’s hand and set him up for the sankyu arm lock. Eimaj went for the bear-hug and clamped it on hard. He thought he heard a gasp from sensei, the sort of noise someone would make if surprised. This was not possible, he thought, sensei was always ready. Sensei was probably putting breathing into his technique, centring himself, using ki or something else that Eimaj had never been able to grasp in his own training. Then suddenly Eimaj smelt something. It was a distinctive boggy odour that had sharply gone straight up his nose. He didn’t have long to think about it. Within a split second he felt the sharp pain in his wrist and then all of a sudden his elbow was being twisted towards the ceiling. He tapped quickly and sensei let go. There were many times that sensei wouldn’t let go and would just give the hold a bit of slack while cracking jokes to the rest of the class before putting it on a few times. Often he would use it to drive Eimaj or whichever other hapless uke he was being tortured either into the mat or into an ukemi (fall). This time, however, there was no showboating. Sensei just released Eimaj and moved the class over to another part of the dojo to further discuss the technique. The only thing going through Eimaj’s mind this time, however, was not the pain in his wrist or elbow, just an undeniable fact he had just experienced: sensei had just farted!

After the lesson Eimaj joined the rest of the club down the local pub for a drink. It was a regular ritual and despite not being a drinker Eimaj would sit with his classmates and engage in some lively discussions. Curiously the discussion rarely centred on martial arts. This was something Eimaj had difficulty understanding. The worst subject he could raise was whether or not a certain technique would work in a real-life situation or to discuss self defence in general. Tonight Eimaj began this line of discussion again. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. After all the techniques were done hypothetically or theoretically surely this meant that they were ripe for testing in some way. The conversation was struck did a few seconds. Sensei furrowed his brow at Eimaj, the way he often did when the young green belt started talking about real fighting. It wasn’t an angry look, more a look of barely veiled condescension. He smiled at Eimaj like an adult might do to a toddler. Sensei was in his 40s, Eimaj was in his early 20s, but at this particular moment Eimaj felt like he was looking up to a wizened old mystic with limitless knowledge and experience. If sensei had a long wispy beard he would be stroking it now, thought Eimaj. Ignoring the questions Eimaj was asking, Sensei asked, “What do you want from the training?” Eimaj wanted to say to be a better fighter or to at least know how to protect myself properly, but knowing the general feeling among his colleagues he mumbled something that sounded vaguely spiritual.

A student who had recently been graded above Eimaj took advantage of the awkward pause that followed this unconvincing reply and made his own unsolicited response: “I don’t train in martial arts to be a better fighter; I train to be a better person”. It sounded so profound and Eimaj was humbled by such responses. Eimaj often felt that mentioning real world violence or discussing the practicality of the martial art was the conversational equivalent to what sensei had done before the sankyu technique. Eimaj really felt like he was missing something that his older and clearly wiser companions understood. And yet it all seemed so contradictory. Sensei would often explain the application of a technique and even adjust it for a “real life situation”, but he wasn’t willing to discuss it much further than that. Then after class everyone seemed to be more into beer than discussing martial arts.

Years later and Eimaj found himself with many senseis that farted. They didn’t seem to try to cover it up and some were even quite sadistic with it. They were quite different to Eimaj’s previous sensei in many ways. Low on ritual Eimaj noticed that these senseis invited debate so long as the students were willing to test their argument. He also noticed that they loved martial arts. When lessons were over they could be seen regularly grappling on the mats with each other and other students. Eimaj had seen his previous sensei spar, but it was just so different from these instructors. These instructors encouraged their students to try to beat them and the more inexperienced the student was the more chances they gave them. Eimaj’s previous sensei also always won, but sparring was more one-sided. You started the bout mentally accepting that sensei would win as you had already seen him easily beat the other students. You did this almost in the same way as you allowed sensei to put painful holds on you and then joke about it as you permitted him to keep hurting you in front of everyone.

After sensei farted Eimaj went through several phases. It didn’t take him long to start to dismiss the incident. This was common with Eimaj, he understood denial all too well. Perhaps it was another student, perhaps he had done it. However, in his heart of hearts he knew that it had been sensei, and this made Eimaj think of many other times he had questioned his sensei’s infallibility. Sensei always seemed to say the right thing. He always had the right answer and, crucially, he knew how to make you feel bad for asking the question. This was not something just embodied by Sensei. Under him the descending ranks were not to be questioned and always seemed to be right. This was the hierarchy of the dojo; it was a type of feudal table, where everyone knew their place. However, you could aspire to be a higher grade and over time you would attain these grades, but as you attained these grades you became more agreeable with the other belts. You all learnt how to tow the line together.

Within a few months of leaving his dojo Eimaj’s whole outlook on training changed. Some of his new classes still had a hierarchy, but this was more like a race. There were never moments in Eimaj’s training, where he felt he could have beaten someone or that he had given up because he felt that was the right thing to do. All his victories were hard earned and all his defeats were truly undeniable. Grades were generally very transparent, but there were times when lower grades did overtake the senior grades and the senior grades had a job to catch up again. There were social events, but much of the students’ spare time with the club was spent enthusiastically trying to improve each other’s training. When Eimaj left the mats he knew those who were staying on after him would be those who beat him or would be beating him soon. As Eimaj climbed the grading ladder he became very aware of his own mortality. He couldn’t just rest on his laurels with a lower grade. In fact, he knew a lower grade was often hungry to prove his ability.

Outside of class Eimaj often thought of his old school. He knew he could probably beat all the students he used to train with and was tempted to return just to knock that smug grin off all the higher grades’ faces. This idea passed though. After some time Eimaj met many people from different martial arts and soon started to understand the type of subculture they wanted. He found students who were scared to leave their schools and others who once they had broken away sought out similar schools. Eimaj could still never really understand why someone would want to study a martial art for any initial reason other than for self defence or as a sport. Surely, he thought, there are enough other forms of exercise, schools of philosophy and religion that would better cater for every individual’s non-combative needs. As Eimaj looked back through history he started to discover that most martial arts were originally created as a means of combat. That was their original purpose. Suppression through politics, religion, occupation by another country and a need to recruit larger numbers of students had been some of the reasons why the arts had altered their combative objective. There were other reasons too. Over time old warriors become sick of violence. They loved practicing their arts, but the limitations of violence were restricting them. So, they used martial arts as a channel for expressing themselves. This approach quickly replaced the old combative side and soon a generation of students emerged that had never experienced any form of combat.

This last point reminded Eimaj of the sage words his old sensei had said to him, “You cannot stay in the forge forever”. It sounded very profound at the time and seeing what history had done to these warriors and how they had mellowed over time he could appreciate it. However, Eimaj couldn’t help thinking, “Yes, but you have to get into the forge first!”

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Cor-Chat - The Fighting Art of the Circus

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Cor-chat is the most closely guarded secret of the travelling circus. Loosely translated from circus language the name means “Fight Thing”. For three centuries it was a style that was taught exclusively to circus people and passed from one generation to the next for the purposes of self defence. The life of a travelling performer is a hazardous one. When a community moves to a new site or “tober” they are immediately strangers and not always welcome. This prompted the creation of a system of self defence to deal with would-be attackers and practiced in accordance with circus custom. The lineage of the main schools of cor-chat can’t be traced back to a single circus family, although it is believed that Phillip Astley, the father of the modern circus, introduced various techniques taken from his military experiences. Phineas T. Barnum is also credited with influencing a more deceptive style of cor-chat in the USA. Some say that the famous fraudster’s line “never give a sucker an even break” had a hidden reference to the savage joint-locking techniques found in cor-chat.

The art was practised covertly and training was often hidden in the various acts performed in the circus. Certain techniques hint towards these acts. For example, a low sweeping attack is named the clown’s shoe. Training in cor-chat traditionally takes place on a sawdust covered ground, inside a ringed area and in a training place known as the Big Top. New students from the outside are known as jossers and are rarely taught unless they pass the cor-chat initiation trials. Much of these initiations include a series of gruelling exercises known as “building up” and “pulling down”.

When performing a technique, the attacker is often given the term “anti”. Cor-chat is a brutal system that includes a devastating array of techniques designed to confuse and destroy an antagonist. Methods are both unarmed and armed. Armed methods make extensive use of incidental weaponry, including coupling pins and there is a seemingly inexhaustible list of methods for using bailing string. Like all good martial arts systems, cor-chat teaches evasion techniques that come under the title of “scarpering”. Unlike many traditional martial arts there is no set custom or greeting term before starting a training session, however, after training students ritually use the term “nanti palari”.

Today the art has been made available to the general public for the first time. Schools are opening up all over the country and worldwide. These include intensive instructor programmes and long-distance learning plans. Training in cor-chat is a positively enriching experience. You will find this when you begin to teach. In line with circus lore, the cor-chat instructor works for a mysterious commodity known as dinari. It is the objective of any life long cor-chat instructor to accumulate as much dinari as possible. Lack of dinari is often accredited to the lows faced by many circus people.

Cor-chat is a system trained by many different cultures against a myriad of threats. It is a time-tested martial art with a history that goes back three centuries and practiced by many top circus fighters. Now you can also learn this devastating art.





Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Martial Arts Scepticism: Martial Appeals

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“There's a mighty big difference between good, sound reasons and reasons that sound good.”
- William E. Vaughan

The world of martial arts is full of arguments based on irrelevant appeals. From advertising campaigns that argue their style of martial art is the best because it is practiced by a certain country’s elite military to teaching techniques a certain way because this is the way they have been taught for centuries. They are arguments that do not provide evidence to support their claims, but instead use information designed to make you feel inadequate in your questioning. I shall now take you through some examples of the way appeals arguments, “Martial Appeals” if you like, are used as a method of one-upmanship from one martial arts stylist to another, as a form of persuasive marketing or to simply keep control of the way a student thinks.

Appeals to Antiquity or Tradition

The age and durability of an idea is not always an accurate indicator of its value. However, it is very common for a martial artist to somehow connect the antiquity of their system or style with practical efficiency. The reasoning goes something like this: if these moves or practices didn’t work then they wouldn’t have survived. This is nonsense. There are plenty of reasons why impractical and illogical practices are still being carried out today. Many people cling to rituals out of a sense of national or cultural pride. Traditions are often kept so that people feel they have a link to the past. Some people even have their own personal rituals and in extreme cases these can be strong indications of different types of mental and neurodevelopmental disorders. People also fear change, as it presents the prospect of the unknown. Tradition and the illusion of not changing make us feel safe.

An example I once saw was the historical evidence that martial arts have often been linked to magic. This is not surprising, studies have shown that the closer people come to the presence of death the more superstitious they become. In this particular example, the argument was made that even the most sceptical person must concede that there must be something practical in this connection since there is such a long tradition of it happening. This is a classic example of a jump from one set of information - valid historical evidence linking the belief in magic with martial arts practices – to another – therefore it is possible that magic is a part of martial arts. The first set of information does not provide evidence for the latter. There are very long traditions of the belief in monsters found in most cultures, and fairly often different and completely unrelated cultures come up with very similar monsters. This is not evidence that the monsters existed, but probably has more to do with the limitations of human imagination and common innate fears and the superstitions we create around those fears.

The age of a martial arts system is often held in disproportionately high regard despite the obvious advancements made in combat technology. We know old ideas are not always good ideas otherwise we wouldn’t have any progress. In a relatively short amount of time there have been major advancements in what we know about human anatomy, the way the human brain functions, human behaviour and human potential. We also have the hindsight of history to determine how an old idea might not work. It is far more productive and sensible to question why an old idea has persisted than to make positive assumptions about its validity.

Appeals to Authority

As one would expect those who often use the appeal to antiquity or tradition are those in positions of authority. However, often a person of authority is presented as the actual justification for an argument: Hanshi so-and-so said this is the deadliest of all martial arts therefore this must be true. Like the appeal to antiquity or tradition argument, if we just took the words of experts as gospel we would make no progress. Science constantly questions and advances the work of its great innovators understanding that their work needs updating. It is also worth keeping in mind that someone might have more knowledge on a certain subject than their critic, but their method for applying that knowledge might be deeply flawed.

The other issue regarding appeals to authority is when the authority is not an authority on the topic of the argument. For a long period it was common for most martial arts schools to specialize and, even with the advent of more liberal and open dojos, dojangs, kwoons and gyms most schools still do. However, I recall seeing a journalist asking a boxing coach’s “expert” opinion on a mixed martial arts bout. Unsurprisingly the coach’s response was negative and despite the bout being regulated by strict rules, clearly watched over by an experienced referee and a medical team on hand, the boxing coach compared it to a street-fight. Nevertheless, this authority was a respected and qualified boxing coach running a high performing boxing club. His validity for teaching his sport is not in question, however, his opinion on something that he had little knowledge on had about as much relevance as an ice skating coach discussing the form of a champion skier. Now, if the person being consulted on the mixed martial arts bout was an experienced doorman who had seen thousands of street-brawls and made the same comparison that would have been a different matter.

Appeal to Popularity

By the time the 1980s started the “Kung Fu Boom” was over, however, martial arts had clearly taken root in the public consciousness and a corporate side slowly began to emerge. As this spread and more organizations and governing bodies began to pop up all over Europe and the USA, the marketing machines picked up pace. This was more than a few clubs being affiliated to a foreign authority now; whole associations broke away in the western world and grew into their own entities. It wasn’t long before this corporate image was used as part of the advertising gimmick and, as always, size mattered. Clubs, instructors and individual students were encouraged to join the association with the most members. Popularity has a strong appeal. In military and political thinking we can see an obvious advantage of being on the side with the biggest numbers. Popularity is also at the heart of fashion and retail. However, just because an idea is popular it doesn’t mean it is right.

Popular opinion can, and often is, swayed by charismatic and persuasive personalities. History has certainly told us this many times. In martial arts we have seen many trends promising much and often delivering little. Talk to any long term martial arts magazine editor and they will tell you plenty about the various phases and sub-phases of martial arts. In hindsight a craze in a certain martial art often had little to do with the art’s efficiency, but rather the way it was being sold to the general public.

Appeal to Novelty

The opposite of the appeal to antiquity or tradition is the appeal to novelty. The newness of an idea does not automatically make it the superior of what has gone before. There are many new martial arts systems springing up all the time. Not everyone likes to cling to tradition or popular systems, many like the idea of being up-to-date or being different.

One argument here is that this martial art is new therefore it will provide me with information more applicable to the modern world. Just because the system is new it doesn’t make it better suited for the modern world. It could endorse pseudoscience or have no proper basis on efficient training methods whatsoever. There are plenty of new bogus martial arts popping up all over the place, often promoted by the technology that is synonymous with our era: the internet.

Another argument is that a certain martial art is different and therefore better than more conventional martial arts. A key appeal of the oriental martial arts in the western world was their sheer exoticness. Therefore it should be no surprise that within the martial arts world there is always a strong attraction towards more unusual martial arts. However, many previously unheard of martial arts have little historical evidence to back up their lineage or even their validity. There are some societies that are unashamedly resurrecting extinct martial arts and honestly doing their best to interpret these old training methods out of historical interest. There is nothing wrong with these practices. However, there are still others that exploit the gullibility of enthusiastic martial arts tourists and those members of martial arts subculture who have a natural disposition towards learning something that is marketed as being “forbidden” or “forgotten” or simply out of the mainstream.

There is no rational basis in arguing that just because something is new or different that it is any better than what is old or commonplace. In fact, in all rational fact-finding disciplines from science to history the burden of proof is always placed squarely on the shoulders of the new or unusual idea.

In conclusion, if we are to get the best out of the martial arts we can do better than appeal to irrelevant information. By recognizing these types of arguments not only in others but also in ourselves we can focus more on addressing a problem or question than trying to win a debate or live in denial. Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Remembering EWW Parts I-IV

I guess the past is as good a place to start as anywhere for my first post on this new blog. Controversy was certainly the name of the game during my time co-promoting and performing in Britain's first extreme professional wrestling promotion from 1998 to 2001 called Extreme World Warfare. It all started when I was approached to put on a martial arts demonstration. I was then talked into putting on a five minute version of a Gothic martial arts/dance act - the first and only I know of - that I had created originally for the Edinburgh Festival and shelved a year previously. We ended up creating a professional wrestling promotion and becoming part of a new movement going under the moniker "New British Wrestling". It would get us attention from the police and the Jerry Spring Show!

So far I have written four parts, which cover most of our first year and up to our first show "Extreme World Warfare: The Declaration". These articles, no doubt, need some serious editing, but for the time being I am very grateful to the official EWW website who agreed to publish them online in their current form: http://www.eww-wrestling.co.uk/index2.html

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com