The Martialist: The Magazine For Those Who Fight Unfairly

Do I Know What I'm Talking About?

By Phil Elmore

Do I know what I'm talking about?

Stating any opinion on the Internet invites criticism. Stating any opinion on the martial arts or on fighting invites that much more criticism. Ego and the sciences of self defense cannot be separated, for too many people derive gratification and false confidence from playing the part of Virtual Tough Guy.

Is that, then, what The Martialist is all about?

Well, no. If this online magazine was devoted to inflating my ego, considerably more space would be devoted to making me look good. The material on these pages that does involve me (for I am a prolific contributor, the publisher, and the owner of the site) is not censored and not geared towards making me look like anything or anyone I am not. I'm a large and fairly homely Caucasoid mammal who wears glasses and likes flavored coffee. I don't make claims I cannot support, I do not demand your respect or your fear, and I don't ever try to tell you how tough I think I am.

Fourteen years ago. A misspent youth.
I guess I've always had that eyebrow thing.

This approach is the only one I consider intellectually honest. Let me make one point explicitly: I do not pontificate from ignorance. I do not write about subjects on which I am not informed and experienced. Several articles I've written have never seen "print" on these pages because they were shot down by friends, advisors, and teachers who serve as "fact checkers" for my more experimental pieces. I have no ego invested in the things I write – apart from a professional desire to see them written accurately and well.

My most frequent online criticisms usually come in the form of, "You're a good writer, but..." The "but" could be followed by anything from "I disagree in this case" to "you obviously don't know anything about real-life fighting." This type of challenge, at least in the case of the latter, always makes me chuckle.

Yes, I am a good writer. That's not my ego talking. I write for a living, so I don't have a choice. If I wasn't good at it, I would be unemployable. Eloquence, however, is not enough to carry a publication of this type. Glibness alone does not inform, though it may still entertain. Poetry of language may impress, but it does not instill.

One of the more bizarre statements I've seen about me online is that I'm a relative newcomer to Web discussion, a writer trying to "make a name" for myself. It's true that I've only recently started trying to entertain and inform while writing exclusively under my own name. That started about two to three years ago as I type this. It's not true, however, that I'm new to this environment.

I've been using what would become the Web since it first became available to mere mortals. My initial exposure to the art of online debate came in the form of reading alt.magick, rec.knives, and rec.guns through my college's monochrome-monitored VAX laboratory. I played a text-based "Multi User Domain" (MUD) roleplaying game (based in Sweden) for hours at a time, slaying orcs and trolls and fellow players with reckless abandon. Anyone who recognizes this format...

> The Rambotron Demonslayer is manufactured
> by Lukewarm Steel. Everybody knows that, you
> pinhead!

Oh yeah? Then how come mine's marked Splatterco, Inc.,
you moron?

...will recognize the influence of those old newsgroup flamefests on the point-by-point rebuttal format I use when engaged in heated arguments. My first modem was a 2800 baud internal. My first PC was a 386SX.

The point, however, is not that I'm a computer nerd who's logged countless hours bickering about weapons, the martial arts, and esoterica under a number of pseudonyms (and finally my own name) through the years. I freely admit that – but it explains nothing except why I type so quickly (and why it would surprise me to be accused of being a newcomer to the Web).

How is it, then, that I dare to speak on topics like knife fighting, unarmed self defense, and situational awareness with what I believe to be reasonable authority? I don't presume to call myself an "expert," but I also don't speak out on topics of which I have no knowledge. Before I started writing on the martial arts at PhilElmore.com (a hobby that eventually became The Martialist), an online friend accused me of being a "metaconceptual thinker" – a writer of topics about topics. Another friend told me that yes, he wished I would write more substantively about self defense. I started slowly, gained confidence in what I was doing, and am still increasing the pace and content of the articles I contribute to this publication. The Martialist is the logical outcome of that early criticism and encouragement.

Four years after the first picture. You can just
make out the knife sheath on my left hip. There's
one on my right, too, but it's hidden by the booze.

Where does it all come from? My first martial arts promotion certificate is for a Chidokwan Karate yellow belt. It's dated 1993. I have several other certificates now decorating my office, including my current ranks in Wing Chun and Shanliang Li. I've spent more than a decade involved in the martial arts and pursuing realistic fighting skill.

I have no impressive credentials and have always downplayed the few official accomplishments I've earned, none of which are awe-inspiring in and of themselves. I moved quickly from art to art and did a lot of studying on my own prior to the last two or three years. Some of that time was well-spent, while some of it was wasted. Ultimately, however, my search for knowledge in the field of self defense led me to where I am today, for which I am very grateful.

I have never tried to pretend to be more or less than I am. Those who cannot see anyone without a "black belt" possessing real ability or knowledge may well dismiss me for that reason – but I would be lying if I said that mattered. It does matter to me, however, that readers of The Martialist know its publisher is not a liar or a pretender. This magazine is not intended to teach or encourage its readers to do anything – but I'm a real person with real opinions who does not simply fabricate his beliefs for the sake of bolstering his sense of self.

The reason all of this crap is still a "debate" is because it is illegal, and in some cases immoral, to put someone's eye out with a Bic Pen during training when they are teaching nonsense.
- Don Rearic

My introduction to the realities of force and weapons came during my youth. I lived a sheltered life as a doughy, middle-class white boy until I left home. As a result, I had my "teenage rebellion" late – and I did my best to make up for lost time. I've experienced some truly unusual and a few dangerous things, the stories behind which are sketched and echoed in my first novel (which is fiction, but still true). That may not make a great deal of sense to some of you, but bear with me – I have a point to make.

About seven years ago. Eyebrow still permanently arched.
Same general attitude, but different goals and venue.

I once told a coworker at my first job out of college that I'd been something of a wild guy for a couple of years. One of my college friends, in fact, told me that his first impression of me was that of a "dumb thug." While he would not think me "dumb" after we got to know each other, I was a thug. I'm better now. Oh, and that coworker? She never did believe me, which is how I've learned to like it.

...I myself am a little overweight these days. I've got a gut. I've decided that I've had enough of it and it's going to go away but between now and then, I'm not too concerned. I hope every punk out there takes a look at me and thinks "fat old man" and dismisses me. I hope he writes me off as an "easy mark" and when he gets in my face, he won't expect much in the way of resistance. Unless of course he's smart enough to spot a well-fed predator.
- Ken Cook

Now, don't think I'm making more of this than it is. I've never been a criminal. I have no particularly horrible skeletons in my closet. I never "killed a man in Reno just to watch him die," to do The Man in Black a grave disservice. I'm kind to animals and would own a small, cute dog before I would own a mastiff of any kind. I don't carry illegal weaponry, I never roamed the streets delivering my own brand of vigilante justice, and I've never considered myself any tougher than the average balding technical writer. None of this is the resume of a reality-fighting instructor, an indestructible warrior, or the reincarnation of Bruce Lee. I'm simply hinting at a set of footnotes to my life. It's the life of a fairly honest guy who believes passionately in self defense and who likes to talk about the best ways to achieve success in that field of human endeavor.

Do I know what I'm talking about? The truth or falsehood of an assertion is found in analyzing that assertion – not in critiquing the background of the speaker. It's my hope that the material I offer here – in conjunction with the diverse opinions, some conflicting, offered by our contributors – stands on its own merits and can be judged accordingly.

I won't regale you with war stories of the experiences I've had, though I've had them. I won't tell you to believe me simply because I say so. I won't demand your respect. I'll just say what I say and do so with confidence. I don't know how else to be and would be embarrassed to try and impress you.

If it's really important to you, though, I'll go out on that limb. I'll say to you, "Yes, I know what I'm talking about."

Take from that whatever you will.