When I clean my shinai...

... my mind wanders, and I think about any number of things. When I first started kendo and found out you have to dismantle a shinai completely every so often to check it for splinters and cracks, then repair and oil it as necessary, it felt like a chore. After a while it became routine, a part of kendo as much as kirikaeshi or suburi. Of late, it has become meditation.

My hands will move almost automatically, undoing the knots, pulling off the leather parts and spreading open the bamboo. Then running my fingers up and down the length of each bamboo stave, almost caressing it, feeling for the splinters that my eyes can't see. Each irregularity is sanded smooth, each stave given the same care and attention. Then they are rubbed down with oil, just enough to keep a thin film for each stave to absorb, keeping them a little moist to prevent them from getting dry and brittle. The staves are arranged together again, the leather hilt and tip slid on and the cord tightly bound, making the shinai whole again. A few practice swings later and the shinai is laid aside, waiting for the next trip to the dojo.

Lately, while doing this, I find myself thinking of the 'do' in 'kendo', that is, the '道' in '剣道'. Since I've started, kendo has been permeating every aspect of my life. The line dividing the dojo from the world beyond has blurred. One of the things common to every Japanese martial art is the very rigid, very specific etiquette. There is a right and proper way to do pretty much everything. There is a right way to enter the dojo, to leave the dojo, to bow to the dojo, to bow to an opponent, to bow to your teacher... There is a right way to sit, to stand, to walk, to face, to hold your sword when not in use, to don your armour, to put away your armour, to fold your uniform when not in use...

There are dozens, hundreds of little rituals that, over the course of months, become a part of every kendoka, all contributing in some small way to the ideal of the dojo as a place of learning and discipline. I'm not sure how it looks like anymore, from the outside looking in. These days the world seems more real when I'm in keikogi and hakama.

An interesting thought struck me the other day regarding the line between the dojo and the world beyond. In the dojo, when someone points out a flaw or weakness in your technique, you thank him. It does not matter if he is wrong or right, the fact remains that he has taken the effort to observe you and offer an opinion, and so you bow and thank him. And if you're smart, you do not take his critique at face value, but carefully reflect on its validity. This is a prudent, humble and sincere attitude to learning that I consider standard procedure in any dojo worthy of the name. And the thought that hit me was this: Would I behave in this manner outside the dojo?

I want to say 'yes'.

The realities of the world beyond the dojo do not lend themselves well to the ideals of the dojo. Take evolutionary biology. Between biologists, it's perfectly possible and normal for there to be disagreement. The empirical method and peer review are ideally the mechanisms by which scientific progress is made, with experts in their fields pushing forward their pet theories and, with honesty and humility, debating and refining the theories and helping the march of science as a whole. This can be said to be akin to master swordsmen dueling and bettering themselves in the process.

Now, scientists are human, too, and the history of science is replete with examples of backstabbing, oneupmanship, hubris and plain old narrow-mindedness impeding scientific progress. I liken such incidents to the ugly, awkward engagements between novice kendokas that have just begun to don armour and are as yet woefully lacking in technique. In time, hopefully, they will outgrow such silliness. Realistically, in science as in kendo, one will observe a spectrum between the two extremes.

And then there's creationists, who obnoxiously elbow their way into the scene, chock full of ignorance and dogma, proudly braying their "theories" with nary the slightest inkling of the utter absence of any intellectual merit to their position. Now this, this has no parallel in any normal dojo. This is the dojo getting invaded by a party of drunken yobbos, clad in gunny sacks, speaking in grunts and flinging excrement at any who approach. Hmm.

I don't think I'm all that far off the mark in making these comparisons, and this illustrates just one of many aspects of life in which good dojo etiquette alone doesn't quite cut it (ahahaha...). But looking at the creationist example, I can honestly say I'm not sure how to deal with it. Logic and reason do not work against such people, as many rational atheists would no doubt have experienced.

Every time I read the news I can't escape the feeling that the world is becoming a dumber place. On the one hand, on the wings of science and technology we reach higher and higher, yet on the other hand, the evidence suggests that a greater proportion than ever of the world's population is regressing into ignorance and superstition. Amid this maelstrom of conflicting memes, the dojo feels like the last bastion of all that is good about being human. To me, the dojo represents the highest ideals of the human condition; people gathered together with the sincere desire to learn, with the strength and resolve to earn knowledge with sweat, blood and tears.

I try to take the mentality of the dojo with me wherever I go, but, to be sure, it's hard sometimes. Well, not like that'll stop me from trying. Right, this post has gone on long enough. I'm a-gettin' offski.

Oh, in other news, since I started this post, a LOT has happened in my life, some good, others... well, the less said, the better. But on the upside, I done got triple promoted to 2nd kyu :-) And I'm on the Malaysian kendo team taking part in a big scrap in Hong Kong in March. W00t!

平成２２年が来たぞ！

The 22nd year of Heisei is here!

And after a busy Xmas and New Year full of toddlers, snow, Avatar*, snow, okonomiyaki, one woefully inept circus, one singularly amazing circus, snow, Space Marines** and buggers knows how many thousand suburi with a beyootiful new shinai, here I sit, taking stock of the year that passed and pondering the year ahead.

So, first things first, how did I do with last year's resolutions?

1. Get back to kendo - Hell, yeah! 2 kyu up from the day that resolution was made and totally stoked for the next grading in a fornight! And then it goes downhill from there.

2. Go to Japan - Practically everyone I know has been there. After many months of study, here I sit, confident in the knowledge that I speak Japanese better than almost every non-Japanese person I know. And yet I haven't gone, coz I simply can't bear to leave my cats behind. I've been away for a little over 2 weeks and Haruka's gotten really, really clingy since then. She's sleeping in my lap as I type this.

3. Finish my 1st book - I won't sugar-coat this one. I suck, big time. Too much procrastination, too much self-doubt. Have I learnt nothing from kendo? This is ridiculous, and will be remedied.

4. Get back my Physics kung-fu - This one was a bit half-arsed, but I can honestly say that I'm more intellectually vigilant than before! Not that hard when you're an atheist. I probably should have set more concrete goals...

5. Learn a programming language - Didn't even make a start on this one and, given the current relevance of programming to my present activities, this one has been struck out.

6. Get my weight below 83kg - I'm 86kg now. All I need is a good dose of, say, cholera, and the last 3kg are history. Ahem.

7. Get good enough in Japanese so I don't need subtitles - I'm calling this one half accomplished. I can watch basic no-brain anime like Bleach and Naruto sans subtitles, but Bakemonogatari continues to mystify me. My efforts continue.

Well, apart from the kendo, that was lame. What the hell, something's better than nothing, so here's 2010's resolutions:

1. Finish 1st book!

2. Get back Physics kung fu. At least enough that I can fiddle about with 1st year Quantum Mechanics, Thermodynamics and Calculus with reasonable confidence. Bonus stage: Find out what the hell it was I was missing all those times I slept during Waves lectures...

3. Really, go to Japan. And while I'm at it, pick up a load of cheap little goodies to customize my swords and armour. Hell, maybe pick up a new breastplate.

4. Reclaim ALL my 3-club juggling tricks. Also, construct a nice, big firestaff. About 6 feet should do it.

5. Finish the reading list! Seriously, there's an obscene number of books in here demanding my attention and RM110 in book vouchers to boot...

6. Paint up 1000pts of Blood Angels. Expand to 1500pts. Because old habits die hard. On the upside, I don't need to waste any money on codices, coz the lovely Japanese Games Workshop site has the pdfs (in Japanese, of course) for free. We'll put it down as part of my Japanese studies, eh? ;-) Plus, it's something fun for my nephews to look forward to when they get old enough to learn to WH40k... sometime in 2016.　かの者ら、恐怖を知らざる者ゆえに。。。

Alrighty, then. Gotta read, gotta paint, gotta train, gotta write, gotta go, right now...

*Watched it 3 times, twice in 3d. Don't ask.

** Via a series of fortunate events, coupled with my own woeful inability to shake the Games Workshop addiction.

About those ducks....

That thing I mentioned about Mandarin ducks being romantic? I totally take it back. Damn...

http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn11764-female-ducks-fight-back-against-raping-males.html

Life and Kendo

I have been thinking of late of how well kendo lends itself to metaphor. Of course, there are any number of activities out there which make fine metaphors for life. One that springs particularly readily to mind is juggling, seeing as I've been down that road before*. Indeed, if one simply takes the trouble to connect the dots and make the right generalizations to any learning activity, one will find that the universe has many lessons, all around us, for those who will but open their eyes.

But I find myself drawn time and again to kendo. I think it lies in its austerity. In kendo, the efficacy of every technique is tried and tested in combat. Garbed in armour, behind the mask, secure in the knowledge that it's nigh impossible to cause any significant harm to one's opponent, one encounters in every training session a kind of tightly focused ferocity that is rarely seen in other martial arts, save in the most intense and dedicated dojos. It is a profoundly liberating experience. And there is a sense of sincerity in seeing your opponent release himself against you. And it is absolutely exhilarating to fight one's peers with all the strength you can muster.

In the crucible of combat, any useless movements are quickly weeded out, leaving behind a small set of techniques, tactics and strategies. They are deceptively simple, yet take years of dedication and training to master. It's a bit difficult to appreciate how simple with words alone, so here are a few samples of kata or forms from selected martial arts.

From Wudang, the real Wudang, not this lot, 8 Immortal Staff:


Cheng-style (no relation) Baguazhang:


Shinshinkan's Chatanyara no Sai, just too pretty not to include:


And finally, kendo:


Some straddle the interesting line between dance and martial art. Others function as a small library of basic techniques, teaching the way they flow into one another. All have their merits and share the same trait of being a form of moving meditation. Kendo's kata is a relatively slow, stately, tense affair. Ideally, the attacker should execute his cut like he really means it, forcing his partner to be very serious indeed about defending himself. This tension between the two kendokas adds a powerful dimension to the practice of kata, demanding a measure of concentration and alertness from both that is quite hard to appreciate until you're actually performing the kata yourself.

Which brings me back to my point of kendo as a metaphor for life. I have, from the very beginning, taken a very cerebral approach to kendo. Before even picking up my first shinai, I'd read books on the matter. Even now, having trained in armour for well over a year (it ain't much, I know), I still consume a steady stream of kendo books. In Japanese, of course, as the ones in English are prone to drift in the direction of mysticism and romanticise about the age of samurai and basically miss the whole point of kendo altogether. The memory of my first time crossing blades with a sensei in free sparring is still very fresh in my mind. For those of you with the JCKL dojo reading this, it was Toyoda sensei. Yes, I know. I'm grateful to be alive.

That engagement made it very, very clear to me what it meant to be completely, utterly defeated before even raising my sword to strike. Before that moment, I had committed dozens of techniques and tricks to memory, devised strategems to break past any guard, theorized how I could transfer the skills of deceit learnt in capoeira to the art of the sword. It all came to nothing when I stood against the sensei. In the sheer fury of his kiai and the resoluteness of his stance, my spirit broke. All my attacks, far, far too slow. My mind raged against the absurdity of it. This man is at least twice my age! I should be faster! But back then, for the life of me, I could not see his sword, and was hammered at least a dozen times, hard, on my head and hand before the sensei let me limp away. By then I was seeing stars, and my right hand was trembling so badly I could no longer grip my sword.

I took that as a harsh lesson that, just as metaphysics and theology could never compare to science, no amount of theorizing can hold a candle to learning by experience. I have since thrown myself into many more engagements and can say with great certainty that though I'm some way from the dearly coveted shodan, I've lot more steel in me than I did back then. It's very strange to think about it now. When I'm there, panting and sweating in my armour during free training, what pushes me to go a little further each time to take a point is not some high ideal to be a better kendoka or sheer pride making me refuse to acknowledge defeat, but just a very simple, humble, mantra mouthed under my breath when the going gets tough:

"Earn your beer, you bastard."

I once calculated that from the first time once picks up a shinai, one must do about 15,000** cuts before you have what it takes to wear armour and really start kendo. 15,000, give or take a couple thousand, depending on your motor skills. With every cut, your body learns a tiny bit more. Then when you get in armour, you start learning all over again. Every training session is an exercise in mindfulness. Every cut must be done to the best of one's ability. And in every engagement, regardless of the disparity in rank, there is something to be learnt. Vita sine litteris mors. Life without learning is death.

I believe there's nothing quite as beautifully human as learning. I've held that belief since I was very young and my dad cleverly left cartoon versions of the Confucian classics in my room. But it is kendo that constantly reminds me of the right attitude towards learning. Knowledge is the brightest of jewels to be treasured and sought. This is to be done with both earnest and vigilance, and at the end of the day, evidence, the crossing of swords in combat, decides all. On the path, there will be passions and urges pulling and pushing us in all sorts of directions. They are not to be fought, because they are a part of what you are. They are to be understood and harnessed. If you doubt, if you hesitate you will lose, not because your opponent is better than you, but because you defeated yourself. Is this not shameful? But it happens to the best of us, and so we learn.

In terms of kendo, I am still young, barely a pollywog in a big, big pond. The mystery of my future beyond shodan is well within the realm of fantasy and speculation. But I know that, as long as I throw myself into the next training session with vigour and really, really work myself to earn that beer, the future can be very bright indeed...

* Note to self: Haven't done torches in a long, long time. Must pick up some kerosene in January...

** Revised from a previous estimate of 10,000.

Wish I had a Pokeball...

... so I could stick this guy in it:



... then send him to battle against, I dunno, something with lotsa spikes. Seriously, how utterly pathetic do you have to be to preach the immorality of Pikachu, based on your own code of morality derived from what is essentially the Bronze Age equivalent of Pokemon?

"Thor! I choose you!"

"Jesus! I choose you!"

"Thor! Hammer attack!"

"Oh, shi-..."
Hammer attack is super effective!

Dolphins =/= Romantic

I was at a friend's wedding dinner earlier this weekend when someone at the same table brought up the subject of the invitation cards for another wedding he'd been to earlier this year. Apparently it had a picture of a pair of bottle-nosed dolphins swimming side by side, and he thought it kinda sweet and romantic, up until I was obliged to point out that the dolphin idea of sexual relationships largely involves kidnapping and gang rape. Oh, yes, indeedy, have a look see.

Word to the wise: You want romantic animals? Stick with Mandarin ducks.

Oh, FFS...

This CAN'T be for real...

Hearts and minds revisited

Hokay, finally got round to listening to that lecture by Prof Damasio. Long story short, a dead end. It was a lecture delivered to an audience mostly comprising liberal arts students introducing his work in studying emotion, in a charming accent I can't quite identify which makes it sound as though he's meticulously putting every word in place with a pair of tweezers. So no answers for me just yet. Oh, well.

On a vaguely related note, I was listening to the radio the other day, and heard that David Guetta & Akon "song", Sexy Chick. And I facepalmed and despaired for the slow death of romance. I mean, really, have you heard the lyrics to that rubbish?



"I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful..."

... and the best he could come up with is "sexy chick". "Sexy chick"?? Is this how far we have fallen? Is this how a man expresses his attraction for a woman in this day and age? Not 3 days ago I watched Gerard Depardieu playing Cyrano de Bergerac. Ah, that balcony scene... Now THAT's romance, not these crude grunts and babblings that pollute the airwaves*! Ah, the hell with it. No time to rant, there's books to omnomnomnomnom...


*For which many Malaysian DJs are also guilty...

Richard Dawkins is a meme

So sad but so true...