Monday, March 23, 2009


I just spent the last weekend in Muar, supposedly for a restful weeked. I ended up going there and rushing out some legal paperwork for my company. It wasn't pleasant to say the least. Apart from all the logistics issues that comes about when you go to a relatively less developed part of Malaysia,

The most traumatic part for me, though, was the use of a part of my brain that I try very hard not to use - the overclocked processor.

When I was still in legal practice, I was essentially thrown off the deep end and had to learn many complicated things by myself. To survive, I developed (or perhaps always had) the ability to accelerate my thought processes to a point where I can keep up with the deluge of information. Think of it as an adrenal stress "fight or flight" reaction, except it is completely focused on synthesizing and processing information (including, I might add, negotiation tactics).

The cost of this is that I literally shut down all other available functions. I don't eat, hardly sleep, pace around like a madman and do away with most social niceties like grooming and speaking like a human being. I also apparently give of this "fuck with me and you will die" aura.

The price of overclocking my processor this way is that it takes it toll on me. Physically, I end up in the state of physical exhaustion and starvation when it ends and I usually need a few days quiet rest after to get back to 100% again. Socially, it takes a while to repair the relationships damaged through my lack of social niceties.

The worst toll on me, though, is this spiritual chill I feel at the end of overclocking. It's not physical in any way. I just perceive the world as a cold and hostile place, like I'm suddenly and completely disconnected from everything. Nothing I eat tastes good. No gesture of kindness has an impact on me. Nothing.

I believe greatly in positive acts and positive karma. The problem with using this part of me is that it is fueled with anger, hate, and desperation of being caught in an untenable lonely situation. It infects my worldview and makes everything bleaker. Enough of this, and I revert back to negativity - something which I don't ever want to go back to.

And I have just taken another step back to it.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Rabbit Punch

Thought I'd get round to explaining my Plurk.

A rabbit punch is a blow delivered to the base of the skull or neck, so named because that's how you kill a rabbit barehanded. It's considered an illegal move in boxing because it can cause death.

I did not get rabbit punched - the placement was about 6 inches off, because the blow landed on the base of my skull. It was a clean shot - which makes me feel somewhat better about it.

The reason I received many shots to the skull (3 in all) was because of a particularly intense bout of dagger drills. I've written a lot about fighting with a dagger, and I won't repeat it.

Something that I spotted in the article I've linked that I didn't pay attention to when I went into the dagger bout that Ilkka brought up - at dagger range, everything comes into play. Arms, hands, knees, feet. Getting the quick strike isn't everything, as I've learnt.

How it happened was when I launched a quick strike into my partner, and felt contact. I distinctly saw my blade sink into his collarbone and I though - okay that was it. Unfortunately, the bout continued, and my opponent launched a series of punches to my face. Two landed on my mask, one looped around and got me in the head.


Ultimately, the art is about the control of structure. An attack with a dagger is another means of doing the same thing - distrupting the structure of someone by planting steel into his internal organs. There are other ways of doing the same. Repeated blows to the head, for example.

I think I have the issue down, and it's the same issue I've been having all this while - I've been practising the material so long that I'm starting to take it for granted, and errors are creeping in. Sure, my initial responses are good, but after about 2 seconds I usually end up flailing around like a headless chicken.

Understanding the general principle is all well and good, but it's a methodology to work responses and nothing more. You -should- be able to work with what you. For example, in the instance when the guy is punching the living daylights out of me, the response should be the same as a normal dagger defense - first remedy cover to the center, plus a change in line, plus a return strike with the dagger.

This shit works. I just need to make it work for me.

Friday, March 06, 2009


Okay, the title is a bit OTT. No I haven't been possessed. Still, in line with connecting and reconnecting with people, I did something I've always done - meet the Cowboy.

As a bonus, I met the even-cuter-in-person Fireangel as well, plus members of the Cowboy Bar whose exploits are legendary on the web. Hi MistressGrace, Nerak and TK!

So here it is. No pictures though.


Even before the start of lunch, I was faced with an interesting problem - how in the seven hells do I recognise Cowboy, he without an online photo? Plus, he's probably never seen my photo either, so if he didn't recognise me, I would be in trouble.

Luckily, I recognised Fireangel, who looked damn surprised when she first saw me. I must have looked like some rabid stalker. In my own defense, it was because I was relieved to see her.

Anyways, with that bit of awkwardness behind us, we went for a "quick" lunch at Brotzeit.


What can I say about lunch, except that it was the best stress relief I've had after a long week of back-to-back work? The banter was easy, funny and free-flowing. I can only imagine what they are like when they are drunk.

Bloody hell, my liver can imagine what they are like when they are drunk.

I was seated next to Nerak, who turned out to be a lark, a mother of two and in impossibly good shape. Fireangel and I could only stare in disgust when she claimed she was "normal" weight. I muttered under my breath about my figure.

Of course, what German meal would be complete without sausages? And what sausage-based meal would be complete without innuendo, both about Germans and their sausages, with meaningful looks cast at Nerak and Fireangel?

MistressGrace joined the four of us a little later, and somehow the conversation turned towards blog traffic and Nuffnang earnings. My own pathetic earnings turned out to be even more than MistressGrace's, for which, in a burst of schadenfreude, I was eternally grateful.

TK joined us last. Again, the conversation took a bizarre turn towards artistics photography. TK suggested that I should pose in the nude with nothing but a steel gauntlet, and I was, for once, shocked into a loss for words.

Lunch tapered off eventually, with all of us needing to return to our day jobs. Still it was pretty awesome. Good bunch of chaps, one and all. Kudos.