Knees

I seem to have injured my knee a little. It happened at jodo practice, but the back story is relevant, I think.

I hadn't been going to practice very often for one reason or another, but I had been going to the gym quite frequently, and lifting pretty heavy weights with my legs. I recently changed gyms and my new gym has a squat machine that is a bit too small for me - even on the furthest seat setting, I have to start from a very tight squat position and I could feel that it was putting stress on my knee. One day, I felt a "twinge" in my left knee, but it didn't hurt so much that I stopped.

Then, I went to Jodo. I don't usually warm up much before jodo, because we do Kihon and warm up "naturally". But on this particular day, I jumped right into koryu and was trying to do Neya no Uchi. I wasn't popping up strongly enough, so I was being told to go from a one-knee position, to a straight-legged "ready to go" posture. I didn't have much luck with that - my legs just aren't strong enough to launch me forward like that.

The next day, my left knee was really hurting me, especially when going up stairs and in particular when my knee straightened out. It still hurts, in fact.

So, I have been trying to do a self-diagnosis using information on the internet. I should go to the doctor, but ... simper simper ... I don't know if I have coverage for this kind of thing, it's hard to get time off work, it doesn't hurt THAT much, maybe I should just rest it for a while, etc.

In the meantime, I am taking a break from iaido, at least. I think my left knee is worse than my right knee as a direct result of tate-hiza always being done on the left side.

Anyway, anybody have any experience with this kind of pain: short, sharp pain inside the knee, very centralized, occurs when you straighten the knee out when it is bearing weight?

Hypothetically ... Pt. 2

This interesting letter to the editor appeared in The Daily Yomiuri on June 26, 2008. The author makes a good point ...

Police officer should have shot Akihabara assailant

News reports are labeling Police Sgt. Takashi Ogino, the policeman that caught and arrested Tomohiro Kato on June 8 in Akihabara, as an unsung hero.

Kato at first resisted arrest and was able to slash Sgt. Ogino's protective vest three times with a dagger before the officer pulled out his revolver, which made Kato drop his weapon.

The Metropolitan Police Department is calling Sgt. Ogino's actions "textbook perfect." Yet, a police officer possessing a gun, a baton and a third-degree black belt in judo still got slashed three times by Kato's dagger.

Kato had already stabbed one officer in an attempt to kill him, and I am sure he wanted to do the same to Sgt. Ogino. If Kato was able to get close enough to the police officer to slash him three times in his vest, Kato might have been able to stab Sgt. Ogino in the face or neck, too.

In this scenario, Kato might have gotten the opportunity to take the sergeant's revolver and cause even more destruction and murder.

Kato was murdering people in broad daylight, and Sgt. Ogino should have taken out his revolver and used it first and taken down Kato right away.

Sgt. Ogino is no unsung hero, just a very lucky police officer.

Andrew Van Goethem

Mitsuke, Niigata Prefecture

This Looks Interesting...

Alright, you dojo-dwelling, gi-wearing, stance-obsessed martial artists! Check this out.

Hypothetically ...

In iaido, we spend a lot of time thinking about killing other people. We casually talk about cutting our opponent across the eyes to blind him before cutting his head and neck in half; we talk about the best angle to stab someone in the heart; we discuss the best grip for cutting off someone's head. Of course, it's all hypothetical, right?

Well, what IF ... I know it's a big if ... but what if you found yourself having to decide whether or not to intervene in a violent situation?

Today around noon, a man drove his car into a crowd in Akihabara, Tokyo, and then went on a stabbing spree. He killed at least 3 people and injured 14 others.
Read more about this story here.

I was in Akihabara on Friday night. I have been there in the past with my sword after an iai practice. So, forgetting about how unlikely it is, it is possible that you or I might find ourselves in this kind of situation.

I wonder whether I would be able to do anything, or if I would just stand there in shock. In the end, police apprehended the man responsible, but only after more than a dozen people had been injured or killed. I don't know karate; I don't know aikido, or krav maga or anything else - there's no way I could stop him short of cutting his arm off or something. Would I have the guts to do it?

I first started thinking about this kind of thing after this happened. A madman stabbed children to death in an elementary school. As an elementary school teacher (at the time) I wondered whether I would have been able to stop it had it been my school.

I can't quite explain why, but I think this is an important question for iaidoka, especially. I'm prepared to admit that this situation is almost certainly never going to happen. But am I mentally prepared to kill and/or die to save another person's life?

Hakone Iaido Taikai

This past Wednesday, May 28th, was the Hakone 8th-dan Iaido Tournament. It's held every year at Hakone Shrine on May 28th, regardless of whether or not that falls on a weekday or a holiday. As it was a work day for me, I couldn't go, as much as I might have liked to.

More info about the event here (in Japanese). It is by invitation, and so only the very best 8th dan competitors - those who have won tournaments at the 7th dan level, for example - participate. I'm not entirely clear on how it works, but it seems that (usually) if you have won it in the past, you are not invited to join it again. There appear to be some exceptions, though.

I found a list of previous competitors. Where I was able, I have written the names in Romaji. This is much easier to do with family names than it is to do with given names, so I will usually give family names only; apologies if that seems disrespectful, or if I get any names wrong. Obviously, the honorific "Sensei" is implied after each name...! The family name plus the prefecture is probably enough, in most cases, to identify the individual. In some cases, I outright guessed at the name and probably got it wrong.

1st Annual Tournament - Heisei 5 (1993)
Winner: Kawaguchi Toshihiko (Yamaguchi)
2nd: Ide Katsuhiko (Hiroshima)
3rd: Otsuka Taro (Gifu)
Participants - Kobayashi Masao (Ibaraki), Namitome Shigenori (Fukuoka), Fujita (Tokyo), Mori (Osaka), Yamazaki (Saitama), Yamazaki (Shizuoka)

2nd Annual Tournament - Heisei 6 (1994)
Winner: Yasunaga (Kumamoto)
2nd: Kishimoto (Chiba)
3rd: Yoshinari (Kanagawa)
Participants - Ohashi Ryo (Tokyo), Kataoka (Aichi), Sato (Miyagi), Takeda (Ishikawa), Miura (Yamaguchi), Watanabe Hideo (Saitama)

3rd Annual Tournament - Heisei 7 (1995)
Winner: Ishido Shizufumi (Kanagawa)
2nd: Mitani (Kochi)
3rd: Oda (Shizuoka)
Participants - Hakuno (Fukoka), Sato (Tokyo), Saiki (Yamaguchi), Sugahara (Miyagi), Tamagawa (Osaka), Fukuhara (Hyogo)

4th Annual Tournament - Heisei 8 (1996)
Winner: Kimura (Kumamoto)
2nd: Monma(?) (Yamagata)
3rd: Fujiwara (Hyogo)
Participants - Oura(?) (Tokyo), Tanaka Shinzo (Fukushima), Tamagawa (Osaka), Fukube(?) (Mie), Yamauchi (Osaka), Yoshinari (Kanagawa)

5th Annual Tournament - Heisei 9 (1997) - Shrine 1240-Year Anniversary; many former participants were re-invited to compete again.
Winner: Kawaguchi Toshihiko (Yamaguchi)
2nd: Ide Katsuhiko (Hiroshima)
3rd: Mitani (Kochi)
Participants - Ishido Shizufumi (Kanagawa), Oura (Tokyo), Fukuhara (Hyogo), Yasunaga (Kumamoto), Yamazaki (Saitama), Yoshinari (Kanagawa)

6th Annual Tournament - Heisei 10 (1998)
Winner: Ogura Noboru (Tochigi)
2nd: Fukushima Manabu (Tokyo)
3rd: Kumeno (Ehime)
Participants - Sojima(?) (Kanagawa), Gota (Hokkaido), Nishidaira Hirofumi (Okinawa), Imura (Osaka), Noguchi (Chiba), Inoue Katsuhiko (Shizuoka)

7th Annual Tournament - Heisei 11 (1999)
Winner: Tanaka (Tokyo)
2nd: Yamazaki (Shizuoka)
3rd: Fujita (Tokyo)
Participants - Kishimoto (Chiba), Takeda (Ishikawa), Mori (Osaka), Watanabe (Saitama), Miura (Yamaguchi), Yagyu Hideo (Osaka)

8th Annual Tournament - Heisei 12 (2000)
Winner: Azuma Yoshinobu (Oita)
2nd: Muraomo(?) (Tokyo)
3rd: Haruna Matsuo (Okayama)
Participants - Nakamura (Tokyo), Obayashi (Osaka), Kaneda Masao (Tokyo), Hisano Michiya (Shizuoka), Hirota (Aomori), Koike (Yamanashi)

9th Annual Tournament - Heisei 13 (2001)
Winner: Kusama (Niigata)
2nd: Aoki Eiji (Tokyo)
3rd: Harada Sho (Tokushima)
Participants - Ishihara (Okayama), Hakuno (Fukuoka), Sato Yukio (Oita), Miyata (Ibaraki), Koyanagi (Osaka), Yamamoto Noboru (Tokyo)

10th Annual Tournament - Heisei 14 (2002)
Winner: Fukuhara (Hyogo)
2nd: Yamazaki (Saitama)
3rd: Miyata (Ibaraki)
Participants - Tanaka Shinzo (Fukushima), Oda (Shizuoka), Saiki (Yamaguchi), Fukube (Mie), Kimura (Kumamoto), Fujiwara (Hyogo)

11th Annual Tournament - Heisei 15 (2003)
Winner: Tanno Sutekatsu (Fukushima)
2nd: Matsuoka (Aichi)
3rd: Muraomo(?) (Tokyo)
Participants - Hisano (Shizuoka), Aoki Eiji (Tokyo), Harada (Tokushima), Kamikokuryo (Kagoshima), Oguri(?) (Kumamoto), Ito (Tokyo)

12th Annual Tournament - Heisei 16 (2004)
Winner: Ikeda Masao (Tochigi)
2nd: Inoue (Saitama)
3rd: Nakano (Osaka)
Participants - Oura (Tokyo), Obayashi (Osaka), Fukube (Mie), Ueno Masanobu (Okayama), Doi (Ishikawa), Takao (Osaka)

13th Annual Tournament - Heisei 17 (2005)
Winner - Ito (Tokyo)
2nd: Sato (Okayama)
3rd: Ide Yuta (Fukuoka)
Participants - Imura (Osaka), Muraomo (Tokyo), Harada Sho (Tokushima), Kamikokuryo (Kagoshima), Oguri (Kumamoto), Ogasawara (Yamagata)

Update: (June 15, 2008)
I found some more information...

15th Annual Tournament - Heisei 19 (2007)
Winner - Mizuno (Aichi, style: Shinkage Ryu)
2nd: Nakamura Masahito (Ishikawa, MJER)
3rd: Ide Yuta (Fukuoka, MSR)
Participants - Katsuaka (Kanagawa, Tamiya Ryu), Aoki (Tokyo, MSR), Maebara (Hiroshima, MSR), Tatsuno (Ibaraki, MSR), Miyazaki Kentarou (Nagasaki, MSR), Yanagihara (Tokyo, MSR)

16th Annual Tournament - Heisei 20 (2008)
Winner - Arao (Osaka, MJER)
2nd: Kaneshi (?) (Shizuoka, MJER)
3rd: Ozaki Makoto (Kanagawa, MSR)
Participants - Takahashi (Tokyo, MSR), Sugawara (Kyoto, MJER), Tsuchiya (Gifu, Yagyu Shinkage Ryu), Yoshikawa (Tokyo, MSR), Tanizu(?) (Ibaraki, MSR), Sotozaki(?) (Aomori, MSR)

My current teacher, Ozaki Sensei, came in 3rd.

Authenticity

The whole issue of authenticity is one of those things I struggle with a lot, when I'm thinking about koryu.

Here's how a lot of people seem to think about koryu:

The best koryu have been passed down from generation to generation from the time of the samurai. The best warriors distilled their knowledge of practical fighting techniques and the skills necessary to survive a life-and-death struggle, and taught them faithfully to their students, who, through long and hard study, and deep insight into the techniques, mastered the techniques themselves and, in turn, passed them on unchanged to their students. And so on through the ages.

If that view is correct, then koryu represent not only a priceless cultural/anthropological heritage, but also an invaluable insight into effective combat techniques. Unlike modern "budo", these koryu "bujutsu", having been handed down from the time when life-and-death battles were a reality, must reflect true, killing techniques.

The model for transmission, according to koryu purists, would seem to be some kind of "photocopy" model. To use a visual analogy, the founding master creates a "map" of the techniques. Through diligent study, his chosen successor copies the master, creating an identical map, much like a photocopy of the original.

People who think this way believe, not only in the possibility of "true and correct transmission" but also in its likelihood. Consider this: Many currently-practiced koryu are on somewhere between their tenth and twentieth generation, and the current state of the art must reflect "the weakest link", so to speak, in that chain of ten or twenty masters. In other words, if there was even one "bad teacher" in that chain of teachers - someone whose understanding was less than complete, or whose physical mastery was less than perfect - then the subsequent generation would continue to propagate that error, or that weak point.

Koryu purists would argue that only the best students would be chosen to continue the school - those pupils who, through long and hard apprenticeship, would have the very best mix of understanding and physical mastery.

But isn't the reality far more complicated, and less ideal than all that?

First of all, the very idea behind the "photocopier" model seems faulty. Human beings are not photocopiers. We draw by hand. The master creates a "map" of the techniques, and we re-copy his map in our own shaky hand. We introduce errors, distortions, and omissions. As time passes, we re-draw our map many times, and perhaps it gets closer and closer to the master version. Perhaps it eventually gets remarkably close. But then the master dies, and we are forced to go on by ourselves and re-draw our map from memory. It is hard to defend the idea that what we are doing is identical to what our master did.


Furthermore, the above ignores another fact of human nature: pride. Once the master has died, and we are made master, despite our best intentions to preserve the techniques as we were taught, it is almost inevitable that we are going to emphasize personal preference, or otherwise introduce (even very subtle) differences that are going to be amplified over time.

The above also ignores the nature of organizations and human endeavors. Politics enters any organization consisting of three or more people. It is not necessarily true that only the best students are chosen to represent the school. Many times, it is the most charismatic student; or the most polite student. Or the student most skilled at organizing others. Or the best teacher. Or the student who didn't offend the master a few months prior to the master's death.

(More about this topic here in Kim Taylor's Blog.)

More complications: martial arts have a tendency to wax and wane in popularity. In fact, most martial arts went through periods of near-extinction, when they had very few students. When there were only 6 students to choose from, what does it mean to say that the one who was chosen to carry on the tradition was "the best"? The best of a very, very small field, indeed.

Other martial arts survived because they were hereditary. The art was passed from father to son. Do koryu purists really believe that, in every case, the son was the absolute best person to represent the art as taught by his father before him, in terms of understanding and physical mastery?

I think it's pretty clear that "true and correct transmission" is basically a myth. If you still don't believe me, take a look at old films of any martial art you can find. It's almost certain that there are significant differences between the way they are done now, and the way they used to be done. Many times, these films (perhaps of 400-year-old arts) are only 50 years old. We, at least, have the benefit of viewing these films, where previous generations had only drawings or written descriptions. Surely even greater changes were introduced within the first 350 years.

So, if it's safe to say that what we're doing bears only a vague resemblance to what the founders set down, what is the meaning of "authenticity"?

In koryu, it seems that it is not enough that teachers are "skilled"; people also demand that they are "authentic" and "legitimate", as if these terms have any meaning. In fact, I question the meaning of the word "skilled" too, since increasingly, nobody really knows what skills are required to defeat someone in a sword fight. (If you really want to find out, perhaps you can find employment as a mercenary in a civil war in Africa somewhere, and get some experience carving people up with a machete. Just please, please, never come back to where I live.)

Legitimacy, in turn, is decided by a committee of people who have no direct connection with the art itself. An organization is set up (usually by people with a vested interest in representing themselves within said organization) and then it is a race to get recognized as "the legitimate head" of your school before the other guy down the road gets it. If you've got more papers and knick-knacks than the other guy, (not to mention more students) you'll probably win. But if it happens that you don't get recognized, all is not lost: you can always get together with a few other people and form a rival organization of your own. Nobody needs to be left out completely: it is just a question of how large and influential YOUR organization happens to be.

So, do I seem pretty cynical to you?

All of this is in response to some bickering which took place in a couple of online martial arts forums. The problem is that I know both parties involved, and as far as I know, despite all the accusations of lying and "spreading falsehoods", I think both parties really believe in their own version of the truth. The problem is simply that their versions are mutually incompatible. It's like Rashomon.

I don't know what the truth is. I don't know when X sensei started training with Y sensei or what Z sensei said about whom. I do know that all sensei in question were or are fine, reputable, generous, dedicated, and honourable people who would be ashamed and embarrassed that their students were carrying on like they are, EVEN if this carrying on was being done with the best of intentions and in the name of defending their honour.

I wish people would keep a few things in mind:

It's not your responsibility to defend your teacher's honour. Your teacher probably doesn't care what some yahoo says about him. Turning around and saying something bad about his teacher only makes an ugly situation uglier.

When somebody says "My teacher is more skilled/authentic/legitimate/enlightened than yours!" the correct response is "So what? How skilled or enlightened are you? And how does authenticity or legitimacy (assuming these words have any meaning whatsoever) affect my teacher's ability to teach me right from wrong?"

Finally, martial arts are about self-improvement. Self-improvement is found in the dojo, and then in your real-life interactions with other people. I find it very difficult to imagine self-improvement coming after a long night of posting on forums, or in blogging.

Which reminds me, I've really got to get my fat ass into the dojo.

Things You Learn in Crowds

Having left the relative calm of the countryside, I now find myself in the capital, where I am forced to wade through crowds of people on a daily basis. Actually, I have learned a few interesting things.

There are a couple techniques that help me get through crowds with a minimum of hassle, and both of them relate in an interesting way to iaido.

The first is this: when moving quickly through a very dense crowd, try not to lift your feet off the ground. If you do, there's a good chance you will step on somebody else's foot, and completely aside from the pain you inflict on them, it really throws you off balance. Instead, slide your foot across the floor. Just like in iai. Forget about all those things people say about why we slide our feet in iai: it's just more stable.

The second thing is this: when you're trying to move quickly through a medium density crowd, the kind where everybody seems to be going in a different, random direction, don't look at people's faces. If you do, you will almost certainly collide with somebody who is staring off in one direction while walking in the other. Or, you will make eye contact and then do that "Which way are you going?" dance where you both step left, then right, then left, then finally bump into each other. (This sounds like a good way to meet girls, but it really isn't.) Instead of looking at people's faces, look at their feet. Feet don't lie. If somebody is going to make a sudden turn, they will indicate it with a twist of the back foot. (Soccer goalies have known this for a long time: they watch the striker's "other" foot - not the one they kick with - and the direction it plants the instant before the kick is usually the direction the ball is headed.) Bearing this in mind, this may be why kendo is so stringently done with feet locked front-to-back - not only to reduce the chance of injuries to the achilles tendon, but possibly also to avoid telegraphing one's next movement. Maybe?

Oh yeah. The other thing I've learned from being in crowds: I don't like crowds.

Yoshihara Yoshindo

Wow. It's been a while. I moved, and now I'm in Kanagawa ken (officially I'm living in Yokohama, but I'm so far out in the suburbs that saying I'm in Yokohama sounds a little bit odd). I haven't found a practice yet. These things take time ... at least, they always seem to take me a lot of time. So I haven't actually practiced in ages, and consequently have very little to say. But, just so you don't think I've fallen off the face of the earth, here's a little video from the Japan Times. They've also got another video of one of the Japan Times staff doing some iai - looks like Iaido Federation MJER to me.