Incidentally, I think we can all agree that Bob Carson is a terrible interviewer. He’s one of those completely accepting, happily credulous talking heads who lobs softballs at his guests while never really challenging them on any of their claims.  Carson sounds, frankly, equal parts confused, ignorant, and bored through most of his talks with Dux.  How does somebody who’s supposedly a big name in Mixed Martial Arts say, with a straight face, that he doesn’t really know what Ninjitsu is?

I remember thinking, as I listened to Carson’s podcast, that I could do a better job than he did — and recently, I got my chance.  Frank Dux phoned me on July 8, 2010 (and it was with glee that I set his ringtone on my phone to the “Kumite” chant taken from Bloodsport’s soundtrack).  We spent an hour on the phone, altogether.

I’m posting the martialmentary we did on him (which is what prompted him to call) as well as the six-part interview I recorded and put on YouTube.  This phone call is completely unedited.  What you hear is our conversation in its entirety, barring a few private words before and after.

I tried to do what somebody like Carson and those like him will not — strike a balance between letting the guest talk while pressing and challenging him where possible.  I also tried to keep Dux on message and prod him to keep the conversation going in a productive manner.  Left to his own devices, he tends to bury the listener in complicated soliloquy.  That’s a nice way of saying it was kind of hard to get a word in edgewise while he was talking.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJoNnt1PKJY

www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXmqB5FhF8g

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXAo7I8y17M

www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_r3X1hmJHw

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ekOuuklaOo

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuTUSQyFUks

www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZU0Gsscybc

Did I back when The Martialist was founded? Do I now? Do I yet?

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. My pictures show me participating. My training videos show me learning. These things are not edited and not censored. 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.

Twenty years ago. A misspent youth. I've always had the eyebrow thing, I guess.

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, advisers, 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’re fat and you wear glasses” 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 peddling fear or otherwise trying to make a name for myself. What The Martialist does is not about fear. It’s about prudent preparation. It’s about taking responsibility for self-defense in a world that is dangerous. I’m not saying the world is dangerous to make you afraid; I’m saying it is because it is. Self-defense and survival require that we acknowledge reality. Reality does not care what we want or what we hope. Reality simply is. Logic and objective reason require us to acknowledge this. If we substitute our wishful thinking for what is objectively true, we destroy ourselves.

In the years I’ve published The Martialist I’ve absorbed some of the most hateful, caustic, abusive, and vile criticism a human being can endure. I learned early on not to let it bother me. What was my crime? How did I earn that abuse? I stated my opinion. I stated it honestly. I was truthful about who I am and what I think. I told the truth and I stuck to reality.

Some people hate that.

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 used to 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.

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 years later I am still increasing the pace and content of the articles I contribute to this publication. The Martialist, as it approaches a decade of regular contributions, is the logical outcome of that early criticism and encouragement.

Four years after that first picture. There's a knife sheath on each hip. You can see one; the other's hidden.

Where does it all come from? My first martial arts promotion certificate is for a yellow belt in Chidokwan Karate. It’s dated 1993. I have several other certificates now decorating my office, including my blue sash in Wing Chun, my brown sash in Shanliang Li (a system I cofounded with a friend), and the black sash I earned in Liu Seong Gung Fu. As of this writing, I’ve spent twenty years studying the martial arts. While other people complained about me or demanded to know how I dared to express an opinion, I kept on training. I kept on learning.

The last two decades did not come without cost. Friends I trusted betrayed me when I refused to express their opinions instead of my own. A teacher whom I respected showed me the petty, venal side of his nature and attacked me publicly after I left his school; he lied about me and rewrote the history of my time as his student, disgracing himself. Libel and slander was posted about me in the Wikipedia, whose moderators are notoriously biased. An entire discussion forum on the Web developed an obsession for me, and some of them made ridiculous death threats. Dishonest reviews for my books were left on Amazon by people who had never read the books in question. People who dislike my martial arts work even followed me into an online game and tried to harass me there.

What I learned through all of this is that what I’m doing is worthwhile. Conflict and criticism are not by themselves an indicator of success, of course; if people think you’re a loser, you just might be. But if the criticism is almost always without grounds, almost always based on lies or distortions, then you know you’re bothering people — and you know you’re bothering them with the truth.

If you’re one of those people who demands only military or law enforcement figures teach you self-defense, I can’t help you. I have no impressive credentials and have always downplayed the 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 most of the last decade, when I finally stuck to a couple of systems and started accumulating higher ranks. Some of the last twenty years was well spent. 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 an ordinary person like myself 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. Unlike so many of my critics, I have never had to lie about who I am or what I do. I have never had to pretend to hold ranks or military experience that I don’t have. This magazine is not intended to teach or encourage its readers to do anything specific — 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 fifteen years ago. Eyebrow still permanently arched. Same general attitude; 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 and adventure novelist.

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. These are the underpinnings of a mere mortal who believes self-defense is for everyone, and that ordinary people can help other ordinary people learn to be successful in self-defense, without all the attitude, the ego, the posturing, and the bullshit that characterize the martial arts industry today.

Me in 2010. A lot older, some wiser. It's been a long road. I used to have hair.

Do I know what I’m talking about? The truth or falsehood of an assertion is found in analyzing the 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. Frankly, I don’t care what you think about me. You’ll either learn or you won’t. You’ll either read or you won’t. I hope you do. I can’t make you if you won’t.

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.

In the spring of 1964, Black Belt Magazine’s  John Van Nutter credited John Keehan as one of two men greatly responsible for what he called the rapid growth of the United States Karate association.  At the time, the organization had more than 5,000 members, and had the previous July held its first nation-wide karate tournament.  The tournament drew over 300 contestants from around the country, and the USKA was poised to hold its second World Karate tournament in June of 1964.

Answering the question, “What kind of man is John Keehan?” Nutter praised the man who would later anoint himself Count Dante, saying that Keehan, at age 25, is “one of the top instructors of karate in the US.  He has,” Nutter wrote, “already supplied 18 instructors to other schools and clubs in the Midwest area.”  Nutter described Keehan’s “proficiency as an instructor” in glowing terms, pointing to the success of Keehan’s students in competition and describing Keehan himself as an able competitor in his own right.  The article also uncritically repeats Keehan’s assertions that he was a former Marine and Army Ranger who had never been defeated in freestyle or kumite competition.

By 1967, Black Belt had changed its tune, and John Keehan had fallen out of favor, becoming almost a pariah — a karate villain whom the magazine invited its members to pillory in the article, “Storm Clouds over Chicago.”

Keehan’s World Karate Federation was, at the time of the article’s writing, slated to stage an infamously billed “no-holds-barred” karate competition in Chicago that summer. Black Belt was quick to point out that the WKF was “mainly confined to a few dojos in the Chicago area.”  It was in 1965 that Keehan was arrested on charges of trying to bomb a competitor’s dojos, a charge that would follow him as surely as would the charge of murder that still lay in his future.

“Virtually every single major karate leader in the country has denounced the Chicago bout,” Black Belt pronounced,  quoting “top karatemen and leading players throughout the country” in their characterizations of the coming competition as a “return to barbarism” and an “insult to karate.”  By column length, the article consisted mainly of a huge photo of the city and several pull-out quotes condemning the competition.  Among those quoted were notable figures Jhoon Rhee, of the US Tae Kwon Do Association, and Skipper Mullins, who would go on to be called one of the top ten fighters of all time in a 1987 survey in Black Belt.

Even Robert Trias, whom Black Belt praised in 1964 alongside Trias’ student Keehan, took the opportunity to decry what he called the “disgraceful attitudes of the promoters of such a tournament” to what he called “karate-do.”  He made the dire pronouncement that the competition would, “for certain,” affect, presumably negatively, “the growth of karate in this country,” saying it could well be “the beginning of the end for the science some of us have dedicated our lives to in promoting brotherhood, sportsmanship, competition, and tournaments on a high amateur level, with the dream of someday bringing unity and respect to this fine art.”  One can only assume Keehan and Trias had a falling out since the days when Keehan called Trias “Sensei.”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNFFKQd2DWQ

In 1969, Black Belt’s Managing Editor, D. David Dreis, penned an article called “The Trial of Count Dante,” in which he commented at length on a martial arts forum held in Chicago with John Keehan and several other martial artists.  The forum was, in Dreis’ words, “a means for [Count Dante] to explain himself; to tell all of us who he really is.” Dreis admitted that Black Belt had refused to cover the man who, in his words, had done “more harm and more good for karate than any man in Chicago.” Dreis’ bias is clear; he describes Keehan as a “smartly dressed, bearded karateka with a pomposity in his manner which seems to mark him as a man set apart from the usual trappings of the Oriental karateka.” He writes, “Dante, upon meeting me, displayed an open contempt, a hostility, which seemed less against me than for an image he disliked.”  Several times in his commentary, Dreis invokes his psychic powers to tell us what John Keehan was thinking, even if the man didn’t say it.

The real reason for Dreis’ and Black Belt’s disdain, of course, is found a couple of pages in.  He mentions Dante’s self-published “World’s Deadliest Fighting Arts,” getting the title wrong, and says, “Why [Keehan] would publish such a booklet is beside the point. The answer is readily understandable. The fact that the book is spawning ‘fighters’ throughout the nation is an uncomfortable reality to those who know of his reputation and who are trying to wade their way out of the mire he has put them in.”

In the forum, the man who called himself Count Dante took to task those who presumed to sit in judgment over him.  “The streets,” he said, “are where you learn whether you can fight, not tournaments where they pull their punches. I know plenty of guys who have black belts who couldn’t defend themselves when they got into a street fight. Black Belt respects them.” He also pointed out the hypocrisy of Black Belt refusing to cover tournaments in Keehan’s Chicago, while giving plenty of coverage to what he called “blood baths” of more traditional karate bouts in Japan.

Attorney Robert Cooley, writing with Hillel Levin, in the book, When Corruption was King, recounted the often suddenly violent, larger-than-life man who was Count Juan Rafael Dante.  Keehan was charged with murder under an accountability statute that held him liable for the death of his student, after he started a fight at a competitor’s school and the student was run through with a spear. In court, Cooley argued that the students of the Black Cobra Hall were the aggressors, but once on the stand, Keehan was as belligerent and macho as ever, declaring that no one could ever get away with attacking him.  The Black Cobra Hall members were equally belligerent and, in the end, the judge declared them all “a pack of lunatics” and dismissed the charges against everyone.

Keehan was still making headlines in Black Belt in 1976, when noted firearms writer Massad Ayoob wrote an article titled, “Count Dante’s Inferno: What It’s All About.”  But now, the Count was making headlines for doing something he’d never done before or would since: He was dead at only 36 years old.

Interestingly, in this article, Ayoob describes Bill Aguiar II, who ran a dojo in Fall River, Massachusetts, as “perhaps the most dedicated and enduring of all Dante’s students. To him had fallen the mantle of president of the World Karate Federation and chairmanship of the Black Dragon Fighting Society.”

Ayoob’s article is the text of an interview Dante gave to Black Belt just a couple of months before he passed away in his sleep on May 25^th, 1975.  In the article, Dante claimed to have studied a variety of arts and with many teachers, including Bruce Lee.  Of Lee, the ever-bombastic Dante proclaimed, “He was very good. He got a lot of reputation, but for what? Did he ever win a championship? Did he ever challenge anybody? Did he ever accept a challenge?”  When asked if he had challenged Bruce Lee, Dante said, no, he did not, because he did not challenge people that were “no competition.”  He went on to demand what Bruce Lee had ever done for the arts.  “Was he a pioneer?” he asked.  He concluded that being in the movies had made Lee lucky, and if he, Count Dante, had that kind of backing… well, he doesn’t say, but the implication is clear.

Ayoob’s commentary subsequent to the interview is damning.  He dismisses the implausible death matches on which much of what he calls the Dante legend was based, and says that most of the people who knew Dante in Chicago thought he was “basically a coward who let other people fight his battles… a charlatan, a mediocre shodan whose only outstanding skill was his ability to impress strangers with his dramatic lies and his charismatic personality.”  Even after he was dead, the three-part series Ayoob wrote for Black Belt about the life and death of Count Dante still titled his booklet “World’s Deadliest Fighting Arts” rather than World’s Deadliest Fighting Secrets.

Massad Ayoob writes that Count Dante’s system “never appeared, really, in anything he wrote; the most he ever put down in print was a critique of other systems.”  He referred to his form at times as simply a means of “fucking up” another human being.  Later, Ayoob claims William Aguiar, among others, encouraged Keehan to name it something more commercial, and he called it Dan-Te, or “deadly hands.”  In his philosophy of combat, Dante said, “you don’t use your feet much until your man is on the floor.”

According to Ayoob, World’s Deadliest Fighting Secrets was written between 1966 and 1967, published in 1968. It has, Ayoob wrote, sold millions of copies. Arguably, it was Count Dante who helped put mail-order martial arts on the map, forever changing the self-defense industry.

Reading of John Keehan’s disdain for the powers that were during his day, it was hard not to develop a certain regard for him. In some ways, he had the right attitude about self-defense.  He dismissed traditionalism in favor of efficacy, and he spat in the faces of those who presumed to tell him what he could or could not do.

He was also, from all accounts, a huckster, a showman, and possibly a deluded egomaniac with a violent temper and poor impulse control. His fame did little to hurt karate as a commercial martial art in the long run, as was feared during his day; those following his business model continue to empower or to misguide self-study practitioners, however, which surely was a blow to the traditional martial arts power structure then …and now.

52 blocks first came to public attention in the late 1990s, thanks to Douglas Century, author of the book Street Kingdom: Five Years Inside the Franklin Avenue Posse. In the book, Century describes his friendship, over the course of a few years, with a former criminal and would-be rap star named Big K.  It is in this profanity-laced narrative, in which the identities of those involved are disguised with aliases, that 52 Blocks or “Jailhouse Rock” is described.  Century followed this up in August, 2001 with a feature article in Details magazine called “Ghetto Blasters: Born in prison, raised in the ‘hood, the deadly art of 52 Blocks is Brooklyn’s baddest secret.”

The style was also profiled in the New York Times in July of 2009.  The article explains that several instructors have emerged who now publicly teach what author Justin Porter called a “quasi martial art.”  Porter charitably allows that, “because 52 Blocks exists practically as an oral tradition, its history is a bit murky.” This is a polite way of saying that no one can or will give you a straight answer or any substantiating evidence of 52 Blocks’ lineage.

Regardless of these mentions in the media, if any single man could be held responsible for promulgating the popular myth of 52 Blocks or Jailhouse Rock, it would probably be Dennis Newsome.  Newsome is notable because he consulted on the mix of fighting styles used by Mel Gibson in the movie Lethal Weapon, some of which supposedly include elements of 52 blocks.

Profiled by the San Diego Tribune in 2004, Newsome was described by staff writer Gil Griffin, quoting martial artist Darrell Sarjeant, as “one of the pioneers of African martial arts.”  Newsome, as explained by Griffin, claims his father and grandfather taught him “a type of leg wrestling passed down from African slaves in the Americas.”

In a series of interview questions and answers reproduced at stickgrappler.tripod.com (to whom we are grateful for the considerable research done on 52 Blocks, which made compiling this report considerably easier), Newsome claimed that 52 Blocks or Jailhouse rock originated in Africa and possibly comes from the same parent art as capoeria.  As the story goes, when evil whites began jailing freed black slaves as a form of racial persecution, inmates who knew this martial art passed it on to others, and as they did so the martial art evolved.

According to Newsome, Jailhouse Rock comprises multiple styles developed in different places and under different conditions, and thus each of these incorporate different techniques. These techniques range from striking to wrestling, using the hands, elbows, knees, head butts, and some low kicks.  Practitioners of Jailhouse Rock supposedly learn in-depth knowledge of pressure points and vital striking areas, as well as foot sweeps and “Gangsta Locks” (which Newsome equates to trapping such as in Wing Chun or Jeet Kune Do).

According to Newsome, 52 Blocks or Jailhouse Rock is an underground system.  Unless you go to jail, hang out in underground fighting circles, or are family to an ex con, you’ll never learn it — and if you are white guy, nobody will teach it to you.  As Newsome’s interviewer, identified only as “Dempsy,” wrote, “the art is the art of the African who needs it for survival. Much like the Asians decades ago, who would not teach outside their race, the analogy is that you do not give your enemy your best weapon.” In other words, Jailhouse Rock is a racist, racially determined system, in which all of you who are white and NOT in prison are the enemy.

This would be offensive if not for the fact that the system simply doesn’t exist.  To believe that it does we have to believe a series of increasingly unlikely propositions:  First, we are asked to believe that a people sold into slavery and shipped across the ocean to serve as slaves in the United States somehow managed to transmit the coherent body of a complex, technically diverse martial arts system to their children, their children’s children, and their children for generations, all under the watchful eye of slave owners who would not be eager to have their property learning to fight.  There are those who would have you believe that these offensive and defensive moves were disguised as dance… but while this might be believed of flowing, rhythmic styles like capoeira, it is far less likely that Jailhouse Rock’s progenitors could have so disguised this system of fighting.

Second, we are told we must accept the absurd notion that entire systems of fighting — not one, not some, but many — are being transmitted and taught from inmate to inmate in an extensive web of prison instruction despite the fact that such activities would surely be discouraged by prison officials.  Yes, we do have grainy footage of inmates teaching their fellow felons sloppy martial arts moves or other criminal methods, such as during time in prison yards… but these isolated incidents are a far cry from the fully realized, technically complex instruction we are asked to believe is taking place.  Violence does occur in prison, yes… but it takes only moments to stab or rape a fellow prisoner.  It takes considerably more time to impart the details of an intricate martial art system to another person and especially to successive generations of other persons… all while in the strictly controlled environment of the penal system.

For that matter, if the system is so varied, so different, so determined by context, then there is no system at all — just a loose collection of technically diverse underground martial arts that have nothing to tie them together except that they are alleged to be practiced in prisons and by ex-cons.

So what prompts those who claim to have seen, to know, or even to teach 52 Blocks to further this myth? Fighters like Mike Tyson and Kimbo Slice have been alleged to know it and to have exhibited it; UFC fighter Rashad Evans has called it “dirty boxing” taken to the next level; various rappers have cited it in their lyrics; there is no shortage of people, such as on YouTube who are only too eager to describe their own experiences with it, even going so far as to demonstrate techniques.

The single biggest component of this drive to lay claim to 52 Blocks is that people think its cool.  This is a function of popular culture.  For years, Hollywood has fed us a steady diet of movies that glorify and horrify prison life.  To study, or even to have seen, a “prison fighting style” is to mint your own street cred, cementing your place among incarcerated, penal-system hardened badasses.  Urban culture glorifies thuggery and criminality, upholding it as glamorous and a shortcut to wealth and power.  This alone is enough to spur people to get in on the shared delusion of Jailhouse Rock.

Then, too, there are those eager to lay claim to a cultural history of some distinction.  Just as there are those who try and fail to link contemporary urban culture to the ancient society of Egypt, asserting that an African martial art has survived and been disseminated in America’s prisons fulfills the same need to identify cultural significance and differentiate it from Western culture.

The heaviest irony here is that all of these people claiming to have seen or to teach a fictitious African martial art have, in effect, caused it to exist.  Remember the martial art of Hikuta?  Coincidentally marketed as the fighting style of the ancient Egyptian Pharaohs’ bodyguards, Hikuta was invented in the 1990s by a man named Lee Crull.  A few years later, Crull has passed away, and two of his students continue to each the Hikuta system.  A style that never really existed has become a second-generation fighting system which, if its practitioners continue to certify succeeding instructors, will have come into being from nothing… all because one wheezing old man thought it would be fun to say so.

Likewise, regardless of the true provenance of the techniques they teach as 52 Blocks or Jailhouse Rock, those instructors claiming to impart it to their racially pure student bodies or to and from their fellow felons and ex-convicts have created a self-fulfilling prophesy.  The fiction of Jailhouse Rock is now realized as a living, breathing style because there are people who say so… regardless of the truth.  In so doing, they’ve breathed life into the lie of 52 Blocks… and helped further the popular culture imagery associated with street criminals and thugs, for good or for ill.

At what point does a fad become a trend? We can’t usually say until after the fact. It’s true, though, that as of this writing the Indonesian kerambit (characterized by a finger hole at the end of the grip and most often possessing a hawbill blade) remains quite popular in the knife industry, after a period of “fad” popularity during which many manufacturers introduced their own such models. Even the reluctant Lynn Thompson of Cold Steel, who trashed the popularity of the knife during the height of the blade’s newfound popularity, eventually gave in and started marketing some kerambit patterns of his own.

Other prominent manufacturers who have or who still do offer kerambits include Richard Derespina, Steve Tarani (who has written books on knife fighting and on the kerambit specifically), Ernest Emerson, and Sal Glesser of Spyderco.  Countless others have gotten into the act, too, and inexpensive kerambits made in China for Mtech, Master Cutlery, RAM Instrument, and others are everywhere.

Emerson and Tarani have written articles publicly in which they tout the benefits of the kerambit.  In 2003, Lynn Thompson published an editorial in the Cold Steel catalog’s Riposte column in which he characterized the kerambit as “an obscure knife from Indonesia… being pawn[ed] off” on an “unsuspecting public” with the help of Blade magazine (a publication with whom Thompson has had differences in the past). Thompson also correctly pointed out that the kerambit is small, concealable, allows for powerful slashes and stabs at close range, and is difficult to contend with when attempting a disarm.  He went on to criticize its inherently weak extended grip and the relatively short reach of the reverse grip using this knife.

Thompson’s Warrior’s Edge system is based on “long range knife fighting,” and therefore biased towards large knives. While I can see where’s coming from, range is not something one can effectively control when fighting with blades.  Anyone familiar with practical knife “fighting” knows that, in real sparring, the size of the knife and the exact grip used are far less important than body mechanics, footwork, and the positioning of the shoulders (and therefore your limbs) relative to these.  Any “reach advantage” of a knife is a minor factor compared to body mechanics alone.

This debate aside, why would you choose a kerambit (also commonly spelled, “karambit”) over one of the other knife designs available? I think choosing any knife involves making a style choice as much as a utility choice. If you are drawn to the kerambit (which I’ll grant is a very intimidating, flashy blade at first blush), it is because you like it’s style, first and foremost.

The kerambit’s image will work against you legally in self-defense. If you choose to use it in that way, you will be cast as a vicious knife-fighter wannabe. As in all use-of-force issues, however, the context of your actions will matter far more than the aesthetics of the knife itself.  Ignore image, and there are indeed physical advantages to the kerambit, at least for self-defense (and perhaps even for utility).

Because the kerambit is designed to be used in the reverse grip when used martially, it lends itself well to vicious, firmly rooted cutting attacks and hooking thrusts that closely resemble arm movements you’ll already find familiar.  In Jurassic Park, when Sam Neil describes the velociraptor’s talon, he holds a fossilized claw in his hand in much the same way as one holds a kerambit. The talon, extended from the bottom of your fist, rips through whatever the hand passes.

The finger ring of the kerambit acts to stablize the knife, giving you good control over the blade and making it very hard for the knife to be dislodged from your grip. It also facilitates a very positive draw (if the knife is drawn into the reverse grip as it should be).

Some kerambit models on the market, especially inexpensive models, place the clip in the same orientation as would be found on a more conventional folding knife.  This puts the clip on exactly the wrong end of the blade for draw into a reverse grip — if you are right-handed.  If you’re a southpaw, the clip orientation is perfect out of the box.

Is the kerambit useful as a daily utility knife? It’s as useful as any hawkbill blade, really. It cuts well when sharp, has great “inverse belly,” if you want to call it that, to draw material through the cutting edge, and it could be used for horticulture and for cutting linoleum (activities for which hawkbill blades are traditionally used). There’s nothing you can do with a more conventional knife that you can’t do with a kerambit, unless the curved blade is not suited to work requiring a very long, straight edge.

The extended grip is more problematic.  The applications of this method are limited; it is useful for momentary slashing and slicing maneuvers.  It is, as has been observed by many, neither strong nor easily retained.  I don’t see any need to bother with extended-grip techniques, but of course there’s really no reason to discourage you from learning them, either.

What I will discourage you from doing is spinning your kerambit. This is an epidemic among knife people, or at least it was when the kerambit first became popular.  Inner-wrist and inner-forearm injuries are only too common when one starts spinning the kerambit on its finger ring. If you must spin the knife, wear an appropriate leather wrist cuff.  The dexterity developed through such “knifesturbation” is probably of benefit, but please do consider the risks of monkeying about in this way.

The kerambit is a flash, lethal-looking tool that is useful for close-range fighting. It is, in fact, very powerful in that role. It is not the best choice for daily carry if you’re worried about being politically correct, but it certainly has style. If you do choose it, be mindful of its strengths and its weaknesses.

A great technique that solves this problem is to use your palm to slap the opponent.  This is not, however, a simple slap to the cheek, which does no real harm.  Instead, we’re going to use a power slap — a technique that starts from the low line to take the opponent by surprise, delivering serious force that should take him off balance and may even knock him down or knock him out.

The photos below are captures from a video sequence in which I perform a power slap. From a neutral stance, I let my right arm fall to my side (if you’re just standing there, your arm is probably already in this position) as my left arm comes up to guard.  In this photo I’ve already got my palm ready to strike the right side of the opponent’s face, just over the ear and upper part of the jaw hinge.

 My arm arcs up, extended, starting to bend as my palm reaches the side of the opponent’s head.  In the photo below, you can see the head of the Body Opponent Bag (BOB) compressing as the shock of my strike travels through it.  My body has begun to torque to my left as I step into the strike and twist.

 An instant after the strike lands, my arm is starting to pull through the slap…

 …and you can see it start to slide down and off the opponent.  I’m still twisting, turning through to my left.

 When I’ve completed my follow-through, my arm has retracted and is up in a guard position, while I’ve completed stepping through the strike and am now oriented at a forty-five degree angle to the left (compared to where I started, facing the BOB straight-on).  You’ll notice also that I’m much lower now than when I started.  It is this sinking into the strike as you turn and torque that makes the slap quite powerful. 

Comparing BOB’s position from photo to photo should show you that he moves significantly from this slap to the head — no small thing considering how high-up he’s been struck.  (He’s returned to his resting state in the last photograph.)

Slaps of this type are used in many martial arts, such as Silat, and can be used to good effect without undue risk of injury to the practitioner.  With a little practice you can deliver these strikes without telegraphing them and while generating a great deal of power.

Roderick Scott is, to his misfortunate, a resident of Greece, New York — a suburb of the crime-ridden, crumbling city of Rochester, NY.  I say this is to Roderick Scott’s misfortune because, were he a resident of a state that leans less perilously to the left, he might not just have endured several months of legal torture, followed by the longest 19 and a half hours of his life.

Back in April, after an argument with his common-law wife, Scott was asleep on the couch in his home.  At 3:00 in the morning he heard a disturbance outside, looked out the window, and saw three teenagers trying to break into his car.  Shoving his gun into his waistband, he went outside to see what in hell was going on.

He caught one Christopher Cervini, then 17, in the driveway across the street.  With Cervini were his cousin, James, and their friend Brian Hopkins.  They were busily rifling through the neighbor’s car when Roderick Scott confronted them.  These teenagers, you see, are (in Cervini’s case, he was) petty criminals.  They were working their way through all the cars in the neighborhood in order to find things to steal. 

The teens had also been drinking earlier in the evening.  A toxicologist’s report confirmed that Christopher Cervini was legally drunk at the time of his death. (All three teenagers had, as at least one of them admitted, been drinking stolen gin before the incident.)  This fine, upstanding young man, who (we were repeatedly informed during the trial) had no criminal record, also had marijuana and amphetamines in his system. The marijuana traces were consistent with a history of such use, while Cervini had been perscribed no drugs that would have accounted for the positive amphetamine results.

Under oath, James Cervini claimed that he and Christopher were standing still with their hands up when Christopher was shot — an assertion James never made prior to the trial.  If it seems strange to you that he never brought this up before to taking the stand, you aren’t alone in your incredulity. This seems to me an obvious lie — last-minute perjury intended to damn Roderick Scott by false witness.

Now, here’s something relevant, something you need to know about Christopher Cervini’s cousin James. James, at 15, has been on probation not once, but twice, for assisting in a burglary and for holding a knife to the throat of a ten-year-old boy (reportedly over a dispute involving marijuana).  Roderick Scott’s defense attorney, a brilliant lawyer named John Parrinello (to whom Scott owes his freedom), argued during the trial that it was very likely Christopher rushed Roderick Scott in an attempt to help his cousin James escape.  Both “kids” knew that James would be in trouble were he caught committing more petty theft.

Roderick Scott took the stand in his own defense, explaining that he “looked outside the front door to see what was going on,” identifying “three individuals walking out of [his] driveway.”   He “intended to go out and stop the criminal act or detain them.”  He then chambered a round in his weapon.  “I had no idea what was going on,” he said, ”so I had to protect myself.”  He was, he testified, aware that he was outnumbered, and that is key to this issue as a self-defense scenario.  When outnumbered, even if those facing you are unarmed, you are generally justified to use a force multiplier — a weapon — to defend yourself.

“I wanted to stop them before they could get away,” he admitted. “We live so far away, they would have been gone before police got there.”  When Scott told the three teenagers that he had called the police, Christopher Cervini broke from the group and ran at him, shouting either, “I’ll get you” to Scott or “I’ll get him” to his fellow thieves.  Scott fired two shots in response.

John Parrinello shrewdly released Scott’s 911 call following the shooting.  On it, Roderick Scott and his girlfriend can be heard; Scott’s statements to the operator come without hesitation.  His account of the incident is consistent with his testimony, and his tone and demeanor are anything  but that of a trigger-happy vigilante.

Monroe County Assistant District Attorney Julie Finnochio, by contrast, ruthlessly and relentlessly prosecuted Scottt.  She got the last word during closing arguments, too, and tried to tell the jury that, regardless of the circumstances, the shooting was not justified. After the jury came back with their verdict of not guilty, she couldn’t resist the chance to twist the knife in Scott’s guts — or to further the propaganda that has been spewing from her office from the outset.  “I just hope it’s not a message to this community,” she sniffed, “that you have the right to shoot an unarmed 17-year-old kid for breaking into a car.” 

This is, of course, intellectually dishonest.  She’s strill trying to paint Scott, now a free and vindicated man, as a cold-blooded murderer.  These “kids” — these teenaged, drunken, drug-addled, sometimes knife-toting petty criminals — were not shot at for breaking into a car, but for trying to assault Roderick Scott when he caught them committing a robbery.

Cervini’s family, for their part, had the gall to shriek that Christopher was “brutally murdered” — that poor, innocent Christopher Cervini was essentially on trial alongside Roderick Scott.  In the Cervinis’ eyes, Scott “was the judge, jury, and executioner.”  Never you mind that Scott himself just sat before a jury and a judge whose job it was to pass sentence over him. In the twisted, unreal world of those who make excuses for drug-abusing, potentially violent thieves, it is a law-abiding citizen defending himself with a legal weapon who must prove his innocence after the fact.

Even the dead boy shared his family’s sense of entitlement — their indignant cries of “murder” after their boy died a victim of his own criminal stupidity.  By Roderick Scott’s own testimony, we know that, as Christopher Cervini bled out into a gutter on that suburban street, he uttered the words, “I’m just a kid.”  Those words will probably haunt Roderick Scott.  They should bother all of us, for Cervini clearly thought that, to the end, he should not be held responsiblity for either theft or attempted assault.

Worse still is the fact that there are plenty of people in Roderick Scott’s neighborhood, and in the greater Western New York area, who wrongly think he’s a murderer. The local AM talk shows featured many Mondy morning quarterbacks, newly minted firearms experts pontificating from ignroance on why the shooting could not be justified.  Why, after the fact, we learned that those teenagers weren’t armed this time, so clearly Roderick Scott could not have feared for his life.  After all, the man dared to leave his home and confront those committing a crime.  Has he learned nothing from living in modern society in New York State?  You’re supposed to cower in your home, hiding under the couch, praying dearly that those terrible, mean people outside won’t choose to come inside.  You’ll have plenty of time to pray while you’re on hold with the 911 operator, waiting for police who can’t possibly get there in time.

This is what’s wrong with the culture of New York State.  Our state values victims over victors.  It enshrines passivity over direct action to preempt or thwart criminal activity.  It excuses the acts of teenaged thugs, revising history to absolve them of blame for their petty crimes, while pillorying good citizens who dare to defend themselves with legally permitted arms. 

In a state with the strictest gun control in the union, to own a legal handgun is no small thing.  Roderick Scott is a decent person who did everything legally and correctly… yet in the minds of many, he is the villain simply because he dared not to do nothing.  Had this shooting occurred in another state with less liberal hand-wringing underlying its legal code, it’s possible Roderick Scott would never have stood trial.  It is, quite frankly, a miracle that a jury deadlocked only a few hours before it came to the “not guilty” verdict eventually granted him his life back.

Fortunately, Roderick Scott is not bitter.  “I feel that justice was served today,” he sad after his legal ordeal.  His lawyer was diplomatic but more pointed:  “I just want to say that I hope this case sends a message to families out there to watch their kids, to know where they are and what they are doing.”

That lawyer’s message is clear: If your kids live like garbage, trade in garbage, and contribute nothing to thier community but garbage, they very well may die like garbage.  If that happens they have no one to blame but themselves… though their parents ought to think good and hard about whether they share responsibility.

Five or six inches of wood, plastic, or metal doesn’t seem like much, does it? A dowel not much bigger than an ergonomic writing pen is actually among one of the most effective close-quarters self-defense weapons you probably aren’t carrying. Innocuous, usually legal, and very useful, the pocket stick is an accessory that everyone can afford. 

Pocket sticks go by various names. Many people call them kubotans (named for Tak Kubota) or yawara sticks (which might strike some as calling a bo a “bo staff,” but let’s not get picky here). Don Cunningham, in his book Secret Weapons of Jujutsu, indicates that fist loads were sometimes referred to as tenouchi (literally, “inside the hand”). There is also the koppo, a pocket stick with a loop of cord for the index and middle fingers. (The concept is similar to that of the suntetsu, also described in Mr. Cunningham’s book — a metal pocket stick with a metal or flexible loop for the middle finger.)

The reality of the pocket stick is that it really is a weapon — a rigid length of material that concentrates and therefore amplifies the force of your strike into a  smaller area.  The pocket stick doesn’t feel pain and is less vulnerable to breaking than the bones of your hand.  This is simple physics and biology at work. Anyone who tells you they “don’t believe in pocket sticks,” or who offers a variety of excuses for why such simple implements don’t work, can’t work, or don’t work as well as using your bare hands in self-defense, simply doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There are no shortage of those prepared to pontificate from ignorance where the pocket sticks are concerned… but their inability to recognize the utility of this tool has no bearing on the truth.

USING POCKET STICKS

Techniques used with pocket sticks can be as simple or as complex as you decide to make them. There are various resources available on the yawara, particularly, and of course there is (are?) the manual(s) written for Tak Kubota’s kubotan. To summarize, however, pocket sticks can be used in the following ways:

• As fist loads (though the weight is negligible, pocket sticks lend rigidity to the fist)
• For hammerfist strikes
• For open-hand strikes and blocks (in the case of the koppo and suntetsu)
• For thrusting attacks to vulnerable points (eyes, throat, pressure points, certain muscles)
• To facilitate joint locks and control/compliance techniques (most often as a lever)

Many people carry the pocket stick as a keychain, which makes good sense. Keychains are seen by most others (including authority figures) as just that — benign, everyday items. On a trip to a large amusement park not long after September 11, 2001, I was confronted by metal detectors at the main gate. My tiny Swiss Army Knife and Leatherman Micra were confiscated, but park security personnel let me walk away with my polymer koppo without giving it a second glance.

If you do carry a pocket stick as a keychain, avoid the ridiculous advice to use it as a handle with which to flail your cluster of keys at an attacker. This might irritate someone but is of very little offensive (or defensive) value. Keys are just too light to accomplish much when used in this fashion (though of course flicking them to the attacker’s eyes will have some effect).

I carry my car key on my koppo. The key is attached with a quick-detach keyring so I don’t have to leave my koppo if I need to surrender my car key to a mechanic or rental agency. (Quick-detach rings are cheap and readily available wherever car accessories are sold. Buy yourself a few to keep for each pocket stick. If possible, buy the same brand so you can detach your key from one pocket stick and attach it again to another one if you feel like switching them.)

CARRYING POCKET STICKS

One of the most common questions people ask about pocket sticks (after inquiring about how to use them for defense) is how to carry them. Everyone is different. Depending on your body type, you may find them uncomfortable to carry in your front pockets. I’ve read accounts of people who carry them upright in their back pockets next to their wallets, with or without paracord lanyards to facilitate pulling them out (some people find that keys on the pocket stick get in the way when using the stick for defensive techniques or locks or what have you). You might choose to carry the pocket stick in the front or inside pocket of a jacket. You might also simply carry it in your hand all the time, if you’re one of those people who almost never carries keys in his or her pockets when out and about.

My own preference is to carry a single car key on my koppo. The key dangles freely from my pocket as it would if the keys were attached to one of those belt rings some folks wear. (Yes, it jingles about a bit, and yes, if you’re afraid of muggers running past to snag lanyards or other items hanging from your pockets, you will not be comfortable with this method.) The key keeps the pocket stick more or less in the same position all the time and provides me with an easy means of drawing it.

When I draw the koppo (with my left hand — I have become accustomed to performing pocket stick techniques with the left hand because that is where I carry my keys in order to leave my right front pocket free for a tactical folding knife), the key helps me index the pocket stick automatically. As the pocket stick is drawn up, it is in the perfect position for hammerfist strikes while the key is in my hand and ready for a quick entry to the automobile.

As with everything, how you choose to carry and deploy your pocket stick is a function of what works best for you. You still have many options before you, however. You must choose from wooden, metal, and plastic pocket sticks from a variety of manufacturers and sources.

SELECTING POCKET STICKS

The standard kubotan is fairly widely available and a pretty good choice. I’ve seen them of plastic and metal. The same basic shape can also be had in wood. What you prefer will depend largely on the relative weights of the sticks.

One substitute for pocket sticks that is even more innocuous in appearance than these keychains is small flashlights. The standard AA maglight is the perfect size for use as a pocket stick (though striking with real force is almost certain to damage it in some way).  You can wrap these with paracord as discussed on this site.  There are other methods of applying finger rings to these tools, too.

“Koppo-ized” flashlight — an AA Maglight wrapped in paracord.

There are quite a few tapered metal pocket sticks on the market. The taper makes blows with the tip of the pocket stick more powerful by concentrating the force in a smaller area. This may or may not be a good thing. Some may find these types of sticks are actually less comfortable in the pocket. Others will worry that a tapered stick is more likely to be seen as a weapon should the owner be stopped and searched by a police officer or security guard.

Tapered pocket stick in anodized aluminum.

Pocket stick lengths vary a bit, with the tapered aluminum sticks often a bit shorter than the nontapered wooden, plastic, or metal sticks. This may make a difference to you depending on how you choose to carry your pocket stick. I know that the length of my polymer koppo is perfect for the size of my pockets, while a shorter or heavier stick might slip inside rather than sitting where I prefer to keep it.

Be advised, when selecting a pocket stick, that if you carry it as a keychain and use it with your car keys, it might be possible for the weight of the stick and keys to cause some kind of problem with your ignition. I’ve never had this problem myself and find it hard to believe, but I’ve been told by others that the possibility exists. Personally, I think you’d have to have a brick attached to your car key before it would be an issue.

If you prefer your pocket stick smaller rather than longer, which puts it in the “fist load” category as it shrinks to fit completely in your palm, you may prefer the no-longer-available (as far as I know) Shomer-Tec Ti-Bop, if you can find one. This titanium fist load is very comfortable (the knurling is just right, in my opinion), light, strong, and has an elastic finger loop that eliminates the need for tedious sizing and resizing of the loop. The Ti-Bop cannot be used as a keychain, however, so be aware that you’re now carrying something that a police officer might consider “reverse brass knuckles.”

Shomer-Tec Ti-Bop.

ITEMS TO AVOID

There are a few pocket-stick-style implements on the market, relatively common in martial arts catalogs and stores, that I do not recommend. Any of the metal pocket sticks incorporating concealed blades are poor choices. Such a device will get you in a great deal of trouble if its true nature is discovered by a curious law enforcement officer. As the blade takes a great deal of time to remove and reattach to the body of the “stick,” it cannot be employed when you need it anyway — rendering the whole device an exercise in folly. The risks outweigh the dubious benefits. The same is true for the pocket sticks that look like metal kubotans and are hollow inside for carrying metal “throwing spikes.”

The “Ninja Keyrings” available that have metal protrusions that thrust out between the fingers are similarly poor ideas. For one thing, it’s difficult to see these devices as keychains — they practically scream “offensive weapon.” For another thing, they’re bulky, awkward, and difficult to carry comfortably. Don’t waste your money on these.

STRIKING AND TARGETING WITH THE POCKET STICK

Now that we’ve covered the basics, let’s talk about striking, and the targets to strike on a human being.  We won’t be covering joint locks and other compliance techniques that use the pocket stick for leverage, however. Generally speaking, these are sometimes too complicated for pragmatic street defense and too involved for the average person’s use. We also won’t cover using the pocket stick as the handle of a key flail. Flails, even when performed with a gigantic wad of keys on the end of the stick, simply aren’t effective. A flail to the eyes has some value, but this is nothing you can’t accomplish with a wrist flick or bil jee (finger jab) to the same target.

For the sake of simplicity we will focus on two striking methods: forward thrusts and reverse hammer strikes. The forward strike is one in which the pocket stick is held like a saber and used with a forward thrust straight into the target. This is a good linear technique, though the saber grip is not the strongest for a pocket stick.

When gripping the pocket stick like a fist load, it will project from one or both sides of your hand. The most powerful blow you can deliver using this grip is a downward hammerfist strike. (You can also deliver upward blows if sufficient stick length projects from the top of the fist, but I favor the reverse strikes because they are stronger). Those same downward hammerfist strikes can be delivered laterally as backhands.

The nature of the pocket stick as a daily companion implies that you’ll draw and use it from virtually any posture. I won’t recommend specific modes of carry or draw. I think these are very individualized and therefore up to you to discover and practice through experimentation. This isn’t rocket science, after all. It’s a tiny stick that you carry until you grab it and poke someone with it.

If given the luxury of preparing for an assault, you may choose to adopt a specific ready posture. I’ve used variations on the following stances to deter aggressive street people. These are nothing more than interpretations of the double wu sao guard of Wing Chun or the staggered “fence” or “de-escalation” Reality Based Self Defense stances. In one, the stick is in a forward grip for thrusts, while in the other it is readied for backhand hammer blows. The weapon is forward, where it should be, between you and the assailant.

Forward thrust and backhand hammerfist ready postures.
The forward thrust would normally be oriented more
towards the assailant’s eyes than vertically as shown here.

It goes without saying that you’ll only use a weapon to hit someone if you are justified in using multiplied force in defense of yourself or someone else. I can’t address specific scenarios here, so we’ll stipulate that you have a need to and are justified in planting the end of your stick in another person. This will be done to damage or deter the attacker. The mechanics of striking someone while protecting your own vital areas are outside the scope of this article, but you’re not going to learn the totality of self-defense reading a single online description. What we can cover are the vulnerable points you should or could target in defending yourself.

WARNING! The techniques described are potentially lethal and could, at the very least, cause severe or permanent injury. The following is presented for information purposes only. The Martialist and its staff cannot be held responsible for the misuse of this information. The guidelines given do not constitute legal advice.

Tak Kubota, who popularized the kubotan keychain, offers the following diagram of striking points in his manual for the device:

We’re going to keep things a little simpler than that. The head and neck are the most vulnerable to pocket stick strikes. Using either the saber or hammer grip, you can drive the pocket stick into the general zone of the eyes, into the cheeks) less vulnerable to quite painful), under the chin (and anywhere in the neck area), and into the hollow of the throat. You can also jam the stick into an ear or into the temple, with varying results. Do what you must.

Eye, cheek, and neck targets. Don’t be afraid to put the stick
straight through spectacles.

The hollow of the throat, which is
very vulnerable (but a small target).

Strikes elsewhere on the body create varying degrees of pain and debilitation. I cannot guarantee that any given strike will “stop” an attacker, but there are a number of body options. Blows to the side of the lower torso or to the armpit cause pain, as do strikes to the pectorals, to the biceps, inside the elbows, and to the gut. Kidney shots are unpleasant, too, as are strikes to the thighs, shins, and calves. Obviously, a shot to the groin will generate some notice.

Striking area inside the elbow.

The sides of the body under the arms and the pectorals are also targets.

When striking a grasping or grabbing limb – say, the hand or arm of someone poking you, grabbing your shirt, or reaching into your car – the backs of the hands are quite vulnerable, as are the areas of the arm inside the wrist and forearm. One technique used against a “bear hug” is to grind the knuckles of your hand into the back of the attacker’s exposed hand. This is very painful with just knuckles but becomes even more so when grinding with a pocket stick.

Inside the wrist is one good target area.

The back of the hand is vulnerable.

The techniques shown with sticks here will obviously work with any small, similarly shaped object. These include small flashlights as well as pens and pencils. Any item that is sharp like a pencil will penetrate flesh if used with sufficient force, so keep that in mind. A simple pressure strike with a kubotan can become a stab with the tip of a ball-point pen.

A pocket stick is a remarkably powerful tool in a very small envelope. It is potentially lethal and must be considered a deadly weapon, even if it is not used to deliver fatal techniques. The average citizen with a little training and a pocket stick is well equipped for many self-defense scenarios.

The pocket stick is not a magic wand, but it does a lot for such a simple tool.

CONCLUSION

There is no excuse for not carrying a pocket stick, provided there are no laws where you live forbidding them. A powerful, portable, simple device that greatly amplifies your ability to deliver force when necessary, the pocket stick is an overlooked and underestimated self-defense tool. While the material, shape, length, and design of your pocket stick is a matter of personal preference, the basic concept behind the device is one that has been applied successfully for centuries.

Do not ignore it.

It’s extremely popular in certain circles to make public declarations of one’s devotion to fitness and conditioning. Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) enthusiasts in particular tend to engage in these histrionics (as do those scrawny or otherwise out-of-shape Ultimate Fighting Championship groupies who revere and aspire to become MMA exponents). This is by no means a condmenation of all athletes or of all MMA exponents, however, for people vary and their personalities are not monolothic. It is also no condemnation of those who do devote themselves to fitness and conditioning, for these are laudable goals. It is entirely common, however, for those who have achieved such fitness to look down on or dismiss those who have not. It is equally common (if not more so) for those who haven’t achieved this, but who ardently wish they could, to do the same.

Too often in the martial arts and self-defense field, loudly proclaiming one’s advocacy of physical fitness becomes an unrealistic and frequently hypocritical attempt to marginalize those who fail to meet one’s idealized standards of physical health. Those who’ve committed the time, energy, and effort to build their bodies to above-average or top physical condition should certainly be applauded (and, whenever possible, emulated). The better your level of health and fitness, the better off you are generally and the greater the odds that you’ll succeed physically if you engage in a self-defense encounter (all other factors remaining equal). Given the choice between ill-health and good health without additional effort, there is no rational person who would choose to be in poor shape.

When we are done wishing for sculpted bodies and winged horses, reality reasserts itself. Reality is ruthless. Reality is implacable. Reality has no compassion. Reality feels nothing in fact; it simply is, unavoidable, inexorable, and unquestionable.

The fact is that self-defense — and the pursuit of self-defnese — is an inalienable individual right. To take the attitude, as some do, that those not in perfect physical health simply cannot defend themselves is not just morally reprehensible; it is unrealistic. The disdain of those who venerate the athlete’s approach to martial sports and self-defense may be directed at those who are overweight. It may also target those who are old or otherwise infirm. It might be the type of chauvinism that, in holding up No Holds Barred (NHB), MMA-type training as the ideal (or as the pinnacle of “realistic” and “pressure tested” self-defense training), sneeringly dismisses women who cannot compete in the ring against 200-pound men as “unable” to achieve success in pragmatic, real-world self-defense. Regardless of the precise flavor of contempt brought to bear on the less-than perfect (by those who frequently fail to achieve the ideal they themselves tout as the necessary baseline for “winning” a physical altercation), the outcome remains ill-conceived.

Humanity comprises any number of different personality types and phenotypes. Every last one of us should try to be as physically fit and healthy as we can be — but we don’t. Some of us are lazy; some of us have other priorities; some of us have physical ailments that hinder our efforts; some of us do our best in the time and circumstances available to us but could do better if we had easier lives; some of us do, and do quite well, providing examples that others strive to emulate. What we all have in common regardless of how lazy, out-of-shape, physically infirm, or otherwise unwell we might be (comparatively or absolutely) is the fact that we all need to be able to defend ourselves and we all need to be able to do it right now, not years from now (if ever).

In every society there is a population of gifted athletes. There is also a population of people who have the potential to be accomplished athletes. Remove these people from the mix and what you have left is the overwhelming majority of mere mortals who comprise the citizenry of your nation. If we tell that majority of human beings, “You cannot defend yourself until you meet this specific ideal of health, fitness, and conditioning,” some of them — out of fear, out of determination, or out of some other motivation — will improve their physical health in order to acquire self-defense skill. What you’ll have left over after you remove them is still the majority of citizens of within any given population.

Will you tell the majority they cannot defend themselves? Is self-defense the exclusive purview and sole dominion of a select athletic elite within society? Of course not. This is not simply unacceptabel from a standpoint of pure realism; it is fundamentally flawed reasoning. Practical, pragmatic self-defense does not require one to be in peak physical condition. Ordinary people can learn to defend themselves and they can learn to do so quite effectively. They can learn to do so despite whatever physical limitations they might have — and despite the fact that they are not the biggest, the strongest, the fastest, the fittest, the baddest, or the mostest.

Am I arguing against health and fitness? Of course not. That’s absurd and anyone who claims I’ve said that obviously isn’t listening to what I am saying. I’m arguing for realism. Yes, you should be as fit as you can be — but most of us simply aren’t and wishing for it (or excoriating us over it) won’t change it. To underestimate or dismiss the martial skills of someone who doesn’t meet your ideals of health and fitness is also extremely stupid tactically. Some of the strongest men I’ve ever known were clinically “obese” — and no, they weren’t particularly fast, but they had arms like trees and hands like hams and they’d pound you into the dirt if you made them angry enough. Sure, they’d then go have a seat while huffing and puffing, red-faced and sweating. They were still powerful, however, and to claim this isn’t so is simply to deny reality.

Does a 100-pound woman have less right to self-defense than a 200-pound man? Does a 65-year-old man with arthritist and a double knee replacement have less right than someone half his age who can perform a jumping, spinning kick? Does a single physically fit man have less right to self-defense than the gang of three men looking to kick his ass? Obviously not — but for the infirm to have a chance of success against the physically (or numerically) superior, we must embrace the reality of tools as equalizers, as force multipliers. Armed citizens are armed specifically because they are not arrogant enough to believe, no matter what their relative levels of fitness, that they can defeat with their bear hands every person they encounter. To be armed is simply to be prudently prepared, carrying tools that equalize (hopefully in your favor) the disparity between your own strength, speed, and physical condition and those of your attacker(s). You are already at a disadvantage because your assailant(s) choose the time, place, and circumstances of the encounter; you must prepare accordingly before the fact.

One can easily argue that part of your preparation before the fact should be achieving a level of health and fitness that is as great as you can manage. This is true — but most of us will not achieve this. This is not defeatism; it is simply a realistic acknowledgment of that fact that our hedonistic and convenient society does not lend itself to great levels of physical fitness without extraordinary effort on the part of the practitioner. Some of us will pursue this goal to varying degrees; most of us simply won’t. I don’t care how lazy you are, however; I don’t care if you drive a desk or a truck all day; I don’t care if demands on your time are such that you simply don’t make time to exercise regularly. You have just as much right to self-defense as anyone else, be they trailer-bound whales watching daytime television or former cast members from American Gladiators.

If you are physically fit, great. If you are not, this will come in time (or it won’t, depending on what you do during that time). Regardless, you must learn to defend yourself and you must do so as expediently as possible. You cannot afford to wait; you cannot bide your time; you must learn realistic, pragmatic self-defense immediately. To that end, you must learn to use legal weapons and to prepare before the fact as an armed citizen. You must learn what physical techniques you can apply — and how to apply them using the delivery platform available to you. That platform is your body, regardless of the state in which you find yourself. Reality-based self-defense programs are plentiful and will give you many of the skills you need. Books like Shorthand Empty Hand, Flashlight Fighting, and other no-nonsense, “dirty fighting,” pragmatic and expedient guides are also available to you. ‘Zines like The Martialist are built on the notion of self-defense by and for average people. A multitude of great information on practical self-defense — for everyone — is more available than ever before in print, on video, and across the Internet.

As you pursue success in self-defense, it is a given that you should be as healthy as you can manage to be. As you pursue success in self-defense, it is a fact that you must do so regardless of your physical condition. To dismiss or underestimate someone — or to be dismissed or underestimated yourself — because you or the object of your disdain do or does not meet ideal standards of physical fitness is foolish and short-sighted. An out-of-shape office worker can still kick your ass. An obese man can still punch out your teeth. An old woman with a cane can still beat you soundly with that cane. An old man with a handgun can stand against and defeat multiple attackers and even mobs. A petite woman with a knife can cut and kill a much bigger, much stronger would-be rapist. Any of these men and women, using pragmatic self-defense techniques, fighting unfairly for his or her life, can achieve success in self-defense through prudent preparation, pragmatic planning, and proper perspective.

Fitness in self-defense is a wonderful thing. Few of us meet the physical standards set by competitive athletes. Some of those advocating these standards do not themselves meet them. Regardless, a high level of fitness is not essential to self-defense. Being “out of shape” does not preclude success in self-defense. All other factors being equal, physical health will indeed make a difference. In real-world self-defense, however, few if any factors are equal.

The prepared martialist works before the fact to make them as unequal as possible.

Practitioners of Reality Based Self-Defense — martialists and others who take seriously the need to train in-context and with realistic, asymmetrical goals — grow very weary of this argument, especially when it comes from those who assume (wrongly) the levels of contact used by RBSD practitioners in their training (which, unlike MMA training, also includes extensive weapons training and scenario drills, coupled with elements of survivalism (preparation before the fact, including the stockpiling of supplies and the carrying of personal weaponry) and “street” evasion tactics.

Exponents of RBSD are often lumped together with Traditional Martial Art (TMA) practitioners by the sportfighters, who prefer to dismiss all non-MMA stylists as no- and low-contact weaklings who don’t “pressure test” what they do. Many MMA stylists, particularly foreigners in nations with strict weapons control, mischaracterize realistic self-defense proponents as “weapons fetishists.” As the carrying of weapons is not an option to such foreign MMA practitioners, they prefer to believe weapons training is not just a waste of time and effort; they prefer to believe that it is, in fact, indicative of some sort of mental illness, lack of confidence, or some other personal inadequacy. In return, armed, prepared martialists shake their heads at this incredibly arrogant, incredibly naive notion, as too often it seems sportfighters cannot separate their beliefs about how tough they think they are from the stark realities of training only to avoid or survive a violent confrontation in order to go home to one’s family at the end of the day.

Coach Scott Sonnon summed up the argument eloquently when he gave his rendition of what combat systems and sport systems have to say about one another, describing an argument that, he asserts, undermines modern training.

Sport systems, say the combat systems adherents (according to Sonnon), are single, unarmed, and take place in a protected environment, whereas combat is plural, armed, and takes place in a hazardous environment. Sport systems adherents complain that often the techniques of combat systems are not proven in practical application, nor tested against resistance.

Both points of view are wrong, Scott says, because the two camps are both right. Combat systems offer reality to sports — and sports offer competition, trial against an uncooperative opponent, to combat systems. The two should be combined and integrated to yield effective training for fighters, Sonnon says. I agree wholeheartedly.

Such a resulting program, such a combination, is based on realistic resistance and realistic contact conducted in a realistic context. It is, in short, Reality Based Self-Defense, when trained diligently and honestly with drills and exercises of appropriate scope, unpredictability, and physical difficulty. It is not, however, the type of training held up by MMA practitioners as “the best” or as “pressure tested.”

The driving skills of a racecar driver are indeed “pressure tested” — in the environment of a race. Such a driver certainly has a fair amount of skill at what he is trained to do. He is comfortable driving at speeds far greater than those experienced by the average commuter. The racecar driver, however, prepares in advance for his race. His track is entirely predictable; his environment is predefined. He races in ways he would never drive in real life on roads full of other cars, governed by traffic laws, where accidents and mechanical problems are not immediately attended by teams of medical and automotive repair specialists whose job it is to monitor the driver’s status at every moment.

While the skills developed on the racetrack may translate to certain areas of the driver’s life when he commutes on city streets and interstate highways, many of them do not. It would be a very foolish racecar driver indeed who, after winning at Daytona, drove home using the same skill set in the same ways.

By the same token, the one-on-one prepared, voluntary duels of sporting competition, which take place on forgiving terrain, within a guaranteed set of rules (even in the most violent NHB competition, the opponents know that they face one and only one competitor who bears no weapons), do not truly prove anything about realistic self-defense. A technique or methodology “pressure tested” in MMA competition has not been “proven to work” any more than has an RBSD technique that is drilled over and over again against uncooperative training partners using padded assailant/adrenal stress methodologies or blunted aluminum or rubber knives. Both applications tell us something about the techniques and training methodologies used, of course, and they most certainly tell us what “works” and what does not in that context. What they do not tell us is how those things translate into realistic, pragmatic self-defense in unconstrained (unforgiving) physical environments where singular opponents are not guaranteed, where weapons are commonly present, and where the winner of the “fight” is the guy who goes home without having it at all.

An MMA practitioner applying real-world self-defense principles to his next match wouldn’t show up for the match at all — for in reality, we do not volunteer for conflicts that can be avoided through simple refusal. That same practitioner would not shoot for a mugger’s legs when he could draw a licensed, concealed pistol and shoot the mugger. He also would not see training hours spent shooting (on the mat) and grappling as superior to training hours spent practicing to draw and deploy a knife, or shooting firearms in high-pressure close-quarters exercises, or driving a flashlight or pocket stick repeatedly into a Body Opponent Bag as he contemplates a time when he might have to do the same to an aggressive street person.

Sport methodology is inherently unrealistic because it transforms the asymmetrical goal of pragmatic self-defense into the symmetrical goal of winning the match between two people. While the attributes developed during MMA competition — as well as the conditioning necessary to develop those attributes in the first place — certainly can be of use to the RBSD practitioner, one’s self-defense training time is better spent training properly in context. This means developing those same attributes through resisting combat drills with realistic levels of contact. Instead of sparring someone, instead of grappling with someone in NHB tournaments (both activities being fun and useful to perform for their own reasons), the RBSD practitioner is better off developing techniques by working with one or multiple opponents, drilling unpredictable attacks and unplanned responses to them, working with resistance and training weapons, performing those same exercises within mental scenarios intended to simulate street confrontations as realistically as possible.

The only thing sports methodologies do have going for them is, as Coach Sonnon stated, the element of resistance. This is good; learning to attempt to perform a technique (regardless of that technique) on someone who isn’t simply complying with you (someone who isn’t trained to let you do the technique) is a very positive contribution to your training curriculum. This is not the sole purview and exclusive domain of MMA/NHB training, however, no matter how much sportfighting advocates would like to believe it is. Traditional and non-traditional schools across the nation and around the world engage in drills and exercises that incorporate every bit as much resistance and noncompliance as does a sporting match between competitors. The difference is that RBSD schools (and even the better TMA kwoons and dojos) train this resistance in a context, in an environment, more closely evocative of true real-world self-defense conditions. Now, there are plenty of schools that don’t do this well. They range from BDU-clad would-be combat experts who are simply TMA veterans marketing “reality,” to strip-mall McDojos that train exclusively in no- and low-contact point sparring techniques and kata that have no true relevance to any aspect of self-defense. We must make the distinction between good schools and bad schools if we are to train anywhere.

You’ll know good training when you see it, for the most part. I once watched an RBSD Women’s Self-Defense course in which the “final exam” — after weeks spent in combat drills teaching the women to deliver techniques like stomps, knees, and palm heels at full power against targets and protected, simulated “assailants” — was a scenario drill. A volunteer instructor, wearing street clothes, verbally accosted and then attempted to physically assault the student. During one drill, the student reacted — clearly out of fear as the realism of the scenario was ratcheted to its highest possible point — and dropped the instructor with a full-contact palm heel to the face. There was a moment’s silence… and then everyone cheered, including the instructor on the floor who was clearly still recovering from the force of the blow. The student took the instructor completely by surprise (she surprised herself, too) and did precisely what was necessary in a realistic context with realistic resistance and force. THAT is “pressure testing” self-defense training, insofar as it is possible.

You see, the dirty little secret, the one no one seems to want to acknowledge, is that all self-defense training involves an element of theory. Unless and until you engage in real self-defense incidents, unless and until you must stop someone who is intent on injuring, raping, robbing, or killing you, unless and until you face, involuntarily, someone who wishes to prey on you, your training is and always will be a simulation of violence. Your self-defense training cannot and never will be “proof” of anything. If conducted realistically, in context, with resisting and uncooperative training partners, you can — applying logic, reason, and simple common sense to the data such training provides you — make reasonable conclusions about what will and will not work (or what is and is not likely to work) in actual self-defense. You will not, however, conclusively prove anything to yourself or to anyone else.

It is my sincere hope that you will spend your life training for self-defense never truly knowing how you would perform in an actual conflict. I would prefer you die of old age surrounded by adoring family and checking out with a blissful smile creasing your features. I would prefer that all self-defense training ultimately be a waste of time — because this would mean that you got through life never being assaulted, attacked, or otherwise accosted. This is not a realistic attitude in a dangerous world, but it is what I would hope for you and everyone else.

Realistically, it is my hope that you form conclusions about your training by conducting that training realistically. If you wish to augment your RBSD or TMA training with sport training, that’s fine. Please do not, however, substitute sportfighting for realistic training in context. Please do not buy into the myth of “pressure testing,” in which whatever works in sporting competitions is presumed to be the best proof of what can work in real life. Until sportfighting tournaments involve the random possibility of knives and firearms, with audience members jumping into the ring at random, and until that ring is made of asphalt and travels from town to town snaring unsuspecting competitors at random for fights not of their choosing, sportfighting will remain another methodology only — and an inferior methodology at that, given the vital context and goals it dismisses or alters in redefining martial training as consensual, controlled sportive dueling.

“Pressure testing” is a myth and a potentially dangerous one. It is potentially dangerous because it tempts sportfighters to develop false confidence in what they do as somehow “proven.” The reality is that such sportive methodologies are every bit as much simulated as RBSD and TMA methodologies. They can be more physically strenuous; they can involve more or harder contact; they can be more demanding in any of several ways.

They cannot, however, be better simulations for realistic self-defense training.