Elbows and Wrists

Recovered from a bout of diarrhea, which explains my lack of updates.

The only training session I attended this week was Wednesday, where we practised First, Third and Ninth Master of Dagger, which brings me to my point of this post.

How does one train accuracy when aiming for the elbows and wrists with hands? With a sword you can do pell work to improve your cutting form, or train opposite a person to train your stroke.

You obviously can't do the same thing with an unarmed frontale because (1) the elbows and wrists are extremely small targets and (2) build and positioning causes this to vary even more than it normally does, in contrast with fendente cuts.

I'm asking this because I can't figure out a good methodology to train this apart from doing it over and over again - and even that seems to provide limited gains because of different sizes of training partners, different positions for hands, wrists and elbows when striking, etc.

Some help anyone?

Syllabus Form

Given my crappy excuse for a schedule this week, I've resorted to training by myself. This means many many reps of Syllabus Form.

My observations:

1. There's a very fine balance between thinking of Syllabus Form as a set of responses to attacks, and thinking of Syllabus Form as a 38-step program. The issue is this: thinking of the Syllabus Form as a set of responses makes me artificially panicky, and my form suffers, BUT, if I think of the Syllabus Form as a 38-step program, my form is wonderful, but my flow suffers. I don't think I'm supposed to think of Syllabus Form as either and just execute it, but I've not reached that stage yet where I can execute every move in the Form flawlessly.
2. I notice that the more I execute Syllabus Form, the sloppier it becomes. I think this is a symptom of a bigger problem - when I get tired (not physically, but bored, distracted etc) my form suffers. I need to keep myself motivated.
3. There's a weird annoying lag in my footwork, more so than necessary to account for not leading with the face and hands. I don't quite know what's wrong. Maybe it's a familiarity issue.

Comments?

WARNING! RANT INCOMING!

I am sick of whiny players. No, really, I am.

I do not know what is it about Dungeons and Dragons in particular that brings out the worst in a player, but it does. I am not talking about hack and slash. I can tolerate that.

What I am upset about is how ill-behaved a Dungeons and Dragons player is when a rules call goes against them. Especially where there's a challenging encounter.

Here's the context. It's the last game I'm running for a while. I wanted to pit a young white against a number of new characters. I expected it to be a slaughterhouse. I've communicated it to them that I expect it to be a slaughterhouse, exactly because I know that they are not prepared for this PLUS they've expended resources reaching this point in the game that I thought was a really bad idea. For those in the know, they've expended their dailies.

So this group of experienced players, wanting to win, pull out all the stops. They get fairly creative in trying out new things that are not a part of the game system, which I try to quickly reward by improvising rules.

At the end of the fight (which ends in a slaughter, as predicted), the players start bitching about the rules calls that went against them and ONLY the rules calls that went against them, and that they could have beat the dragon IF the rules calls went their way, not taking into account that:

1. All throughout the fight, there were rules calls that were clearly wrong but in the players' favour that influenced the fight to their advantage.
2. I was clearly lenient in favor of creativity, but the bulk of the bitching was in the portion of the improvised rules encouraging creativity.
3. I get very irritated when someone selects bits of physics and rules to come up with the most advantageous rule set applicable to the situation. You either argue real world physics in its entirety or rulesets in their entirety.
   
4. IF I had wanted to make the fight unfair, I'd have had the dragon circle the top of the cavern blasting them with dragon breath after dragon breath once their only ranged attacker had been turned into mush.

Henceforth, I'm going to save myself player aggro and not run Dungeons and Dragons. Ever.

Training in Singapore

Attended training for the first time since I've returned. Officially anyways. Unofficially, I've been heading to the Botanical Garden and been doing the "plank" as regularly as I can manage - which is to say, irregularly.

The first thing I noticed about going back to do my drills is how cramped I'm perceiving the training space to be. I know that's not correct - our training hall is only slightly smaller than SESH's training hall in Finland. Yet somehow, it feels a lot smaller than it should be. My guess is that it's the line of bags strewn over the sides, and the line of chairs that make things smaller than they need to be.

The second thing I noticed is that my form has suffered during the week - again. Weirdly enough, when Chris and Greg call me out on my mistakes, I tend to know what they are going to say before they even say it. Not breaking structure on the cover for First Remedy of First Master of Dagger, check. Not swinging high enough to be a proper fendente cut, check. Volta Stabile when I'm not supposed to, double check.

It annoys me that I know what I'm supposed to be doing and yet not being able to do it consistently.

On a brighter note, I notice that during training, I'm swinging harder and which more emphasis on proper form. I go down lower on my guard positions and focus more on establishing structure than executing things quickly. I was especially proud when Robin tried to armlock me and didn't manage to. For perspective, Robin is one of the bigger and stronger guys there and his form is usually impeccable.

I also think that there are some endemic mistakes that we make over and over again because we're just so used to them. I'll be focusing on this aspect in training and my own self-training.

RIP Velvetedge

When I was alone, you were a great comfort to me. You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. You remembered what I said when no one else even listened.

And now, you are gone. Gone too are my promises to meet up with you, to have those tapas and beers in California when I'd finally get a chance to see you in person.

Farewell, Velvetedge. World of Warcraft seems a much darker place without you.

Home

Just touched down 2 hours ago.

The news has broken, and I think I can write about this safely now. I've been promoted to full Fellow in PHEMAS. In practical terms that means I've moved from being an intermediate student to one of the more senior students in swordsmanship in one fell swoop.

I share Kenneth's sentiment here - I can only trust that Mr Windsor was not being over-generous with the promotion. In many ways, I feel like I've reached the point where I'm only beginning to grasp the basics, only to have the door open to the wealth of learning ahead.

And boy, what wealth it is.

I feel simultaneously overwhelmed and enlightened. If wisdom is recognizing how little you know, I am feeling incredibly wise now.

More when I get some sleep.

Day 2 of Seminar

Day 2 of the seminar saw some journalists down at the Salle to film us. Something about living history and that kind of thing.

Today saw a bit of abrazare, a lot of dagger work and some longsword for the crowd. I started the day incredibly low energy, and kind of sleepwalked through a lot of the techniques. My form suffered and it showed. Guy probably noticed as well - came over and corrected me a couple of times.

Second part of the day saw me get my second wind. Did better, got more learning in.

Again, I'm glad that some small but significant matters got corrected:

1. Apparently my stance is too wide all this while. Guy described it well - if one imagines a square, my feet are occupying opposite corners of the square. This is wrong - it should occupy both corners of the same side of the square. I gain about a foot or two of measure this way.
2. My pushing has been corrected. Instead of pushing against the chest and shoulders, go for the chin and head instead. When pushing encounters resistance, change the direction of the push. Push in the right place lightly beats pushing in the wrong place strongly.
3. Structure is all-important. Maintain your structure, break his.
   

I'm sure Kenneth will have far more insights than I do, but these are the ones I've managed to pick up and hopefully retain. Tomorrow's stuff is probably a dagger round up and sword work. Am going to get an early night to rest up for tomorrow.

String Theory

I learnt to fight with string today.

Apart from the obvious cool factor of that, I took a lot away from the first day of the seminar in Finland.

Once again, Kenneth goes into the pedagogical and technical aspects of the session; I don't need to belabour the point. I will go more into the personal development dimensions of the seminar.

I start with a somewhat suprising revelation - I may be passionate about the sword, but I am not entirely prepared to give up my life entirely for it. If the others here have a love affair with swordsmanship, I have probably a strong friendship with it.

That said, I've always been most interested in swordsmanship as a personal development tool, and that is what I shall focus on.

1. Our martial art comes off a 16th century manuscript. Note I do not say "based off" or "derived from" a manuscript. For all intents and purposes it is the same martial art taught off the manuscript - or as close to it as we can get to it. While I have learnt content from the book, I've never learnt it in the order that the book presented. This small difference in the seminar and the way I normally learn it makes a vast difference to me; it allows me a bigger insight into the historical way the martial art is taught and gives the thought processes behind using the martial art more structure. In short, there is value in keeping it real.
2. There are times where I am tempted to make things up when I don't know something. That is just ego. The irony is, the manuscript itself provides notes on variations, and possible applications. Often what I can make up is far inferior to what has already been provided and thought through by people who have a far more vested interest in the outcomes of these applications. In short, if you don't know something, check it up. Don't make up shit.
3. In the course of learning this martial art, mistakes creep in. These may be small mistakes like hunching when you should be extending, not raising your arms enough and the such. These small mistakes matter, and happen because the human body is inherently lazy. To make sure your body does things properly, you must train. In short, practice, practice, practice. Don't just think about it.
4. In the course of practising the martial arts, the simple moves work a lot better than complicated moves. The reason is that the simple can be executed without too much fuss. In the chaos of a fight, a simple move is more likely to be used and executed well than a complicated one. Do not mistake simple for shallow. In short, simplify, simplify, simplify.

That's all for now. Laptop running out of batteries. Will write more after the seminar.

Small Successes

The trick, as in all things, is with the small things.

Kenneth has written up an awesome series of posts regarding his growing insight into the art of swordsmanship. I will not repeat what he has to write, but suffice to say that much of what he has to write, I agree with.

My current tally in Helsinki is 4 training sessions, two a day. The training and pedagogy is completely alien to me, and yet makes a lot of sense. In it, where I was saw static drills, I now see drills as what they are - training tools. That alone is worth the trip here.

That isn't the only thing that I've learnt though.

My first four lessons here were spent learning basic material again - stuff that I should be proficient in before I got here, but wasn't. Going through the material again under the watchful eyes of Guy is something else. I managed to correct quite a number of things that I've been doing wrong systematically. I don't know whether my form has improved or not - thats for other people to judge, but I feel my movements becoming smoother and less gummed up.

It's with the small successes that I'm developing my insights from. Something as simple as raised hands, a flapping elbow and one fewer step in a drill makes a vast difference in the execution.

I'm also glad I made the time to come down to Helsinki to train. Apart from the opportunity to train, it is also the opportunity to get away from work and life stress. I also got time to spend with people that I don't get enough time with nowadays.

Heading for this retreat made me realise I've got an awful lot of clutter in my life that I would like to cut down. In life the simple things matter. Do them well, invest in them and you get your dividends. Investing in clutter just creates more clutter.

More later when I get the chance to write or when I get home.

Heading to Helsinki

Be back in a few weeks.

How Do I Go On?

An anonymous commentator asked me:

"On those days when you were chugging along without being able to find meaning or make any sense of things, how do you make yourself continue?"

That's a good question. I'll share with you a little insight of what I learnt in California.

My first night in California was cold and miserable. I didn't get an ounce of sleep because of jet lag and the fact that I was basically in a sleeping bag on the floor of my rented apartment. I missed home badly. I called home hysterically, and I was in tears.

It wasn't the call home that made me feel better though. It was the resolution I made to myself that night. I promised to make my situation better in small ways, starting by getting a mattress.

The next day, fatigued and jet lagged, I dragged a queen sized mattress home by myself, up a flight of stairs, through a narrow corridor. I must have been desperate.

Every day brought about new improvements. New chairs, new desk, new cable connection, a TV, then a TV stand. Pretty soon, the apartment was nice and comfortable.

You see, meaning is what you make of it. When the big things don't make sense, focus on the small. Sooner or later, when you have accumulated enough small victories, the world reshapes itself around those victories.

************************

I hope I answered your question, Anonymous, especially the one that was unasked but implied. I don't know what works for you, but I've found that plugging your way through a series of minor accomplishments does wonders. Sooner or later, on the back of these minor accomplishments, a major revelation will happen and there, you will find your sense and meaning.

No Story Ever Ends...

...it merely gives the basis for a new beginning.

Two years back, I worked an unpaid internship for a software company in California. I wrote about my heartache and trials here.

My writings on my unpaid internship:

"Why am I insane enough to do this? The simple answer - I need every break I can get. I've already alluded to the difficulty of getting a visa sponsor. If I do a good job here, maybe, just maybe, word will get around. Besides, I promised almost a year ago that I will do absolutely everything in my power to stay. I'll not break that promise now."

Two years later, I got my break. Just not in the way I expected.

************

I was incredibly surprised when someone I didn't know about wrote dropped me an email. He tracked me down by the blog address I left on LinkedIn, he said. He told me he liked what he saw, and that there were people back in California vouching for me.

People back in California vouching for me, he said.

************

Deep down inside, I've been struggling for the longest time to make sense of what happened, that life-changing experience that got cut short. I thought I buried that part of my life, but I know better. It never leaves you. You just keep chugging along, and one day, inexplicably, it will make sense because you make it make sense. You answer that call from your past, and use it to build your future.

Now, just like then, I'm leaving people behind. This time, though, I know better. I know that the story between us will not end, because no story ever ends. Not unless you let it. I won't let it.

Don't call this an ending. Just another part of the great story we call "life".

First Nuffnang Cheque

First Nuffnang Cheque. Took me a year to earn enough to cash out. Tells you about my relatively low readership.

Vuestar - Patent Troll?

Background: Vuestar, a Singapore-held company, has sent out letters of demand to Singapore-based companies, claiming that any image-linking is technology that violates their patents. Unsurprisingly, the blogosphere is up in arms about this, claiming that this is ludicrous.

*********

I'm going to set down some thoughts about this matter. However, I need to set out the following disclaimer.

Yes, I'm a lawyer, but no this is not legal advice or opinion of any sort. Do not rely on this information. If you get a letter of demand, find a patents lawyer and discuss this with him. Please do not ask me for legal help.

*********

Here are my thoughts, in no particular order of importance.

1. The Vuestar patent (Full text here. HT Ars Technica for the excellent news report.) appears to cover any sort of image-searching and linking. I'm surprised that a patent this wide was granted in Singapore. I am especially surprised because I would have thought this would be obvious, and obviousness kills patents, at least in the US.
   
2. Vuestar's website doesn't disclose any business model apart from licensing their IP rights. I'd have thought that there would be some kind of consultancy, software code to license, etc etc, but no, it's just an IP licensing system. This leads me to think that Vuestar is probably a patent troll. (EDIT: They make mention of some products like Trademark Searches and the such, though it's listed under "Products and Emerging Products". Still rather suspicious. I'm not convinced they actually -have- those products for use, or even if they do, that they are commercially exploitable. Smells like a mask for their real intentions.)
   
3. Thing is, patent trolling isn't a new problem. This might be the first time that Singapore has experience it on such a large scale but it's fairly common in the US. What happens is that patent trolls use widely-worded, probably-invalid patents to extract license fees. They are generally successful because companies don't want to fight a lawsuit and the cost of the licensing is probably less than the cost of a court challenge. What is even more annoying is that most patent systems rely on challengers to take down invalid patents.
4. One more complication aiding the success of patent trolls is that commercial contracts often require relevant intellectual property to remain unchallenged and valid. A challenge of any sort generally triggers a mad scramble to settle these disputes out of court rather than risk a lucrative commercial relationship from going sour.
5. As I understand it, there are reforms going on in US patent law to stop this kind of behaviour. I'm not quite sure how successful they have been.
   

*********

Fragrant Prince

For background, click here.

The arrest of Fragrant Prince leaves me with a vague sense of unease. Yes, he is wrong for posting racist comments. Yes, his writing is shallow and self-absorbed. Yes, his ideas are poisonous, and have no place in a civilised society.

Yet, I am still incredibly uncomfortable with the circumstances of his arrest. From what I've read of the comments on Tomorrow.sg and Cowboy Caleb's blog, it's not really his racism that got him in trouble, but his arrogance.

Fragrant Prince didn't help his own case - his apology smacks of the same semantics as DPM Wong Kan Seng's apology for the Mas Selamat affair. "I am sincerely apologetic for the recent events that happen" isn't an apology. Rephrased, it might as well have been "I'm sorry I got caught".

Yes, Fragrant Prince's racist comments was probably criminal. On the other hand, had he been less arrogant and more popular, I think the blogging community would have been more inclined to "give chance" and not report him to the police.

I am not comfortable with this. It is bad enough that the blogosphere goes on the occasional witch-hunt against high-profile targets like Dawn Yang. A police arrest takes this phenomenon to a whole different dimension.

I think that given the circumstances, reporting the arrest was the right thing to do. I am also not defending Fragrant Prince. What I am uncomfortable with are the implications - that popularity might be a pre-screening criteria for justice. That is the inherent flaw of mob justice, and something that I'll write against, be it for Fragrant Prince, Dawn Yang or anyone else.

The Most Powerful Force

I am a dire wolf, prey-stalking, lethal prowler.

I am a hunter, horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.

I am a horsefly, horse-stinging, hunter-throwing.

I am a spider, fly-consuming, eight legged.

I am a snake, spider-devouring, poison-toothed.

I am an ox, snake-crushing, heavy-footed.

I am an anthrax, butcher bacterium, warm-life destroying.

I am a world, space-floating, life-nurturing.

I am a nova, all-exploding… planet-cremating.

I am the Universe—all things encompassing, all life embracing.

I am anti-life, the beast of judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then dreamlord?

I am hope.

Hancock

Funny I should mention superheroes.

This looks like a darned tootin movie to watch.

Singapore's Superhero

This advert from Nuffnang caught my attention. Write a post about what a Singapore superhero should be, embody, what powers he should have, etc. This contest is sponsored by the Singapore Movie Fiesta.

Word of warning: This post will not be campy or snarky. It will also probably not win the competition for those reasons. Nevertheless, I believe that campy makes character unbelievable and believability is the heart of a superhero. Spiderman wouldn't be interesting if his superhero-life/non-superhero life didn't screw him over every so often. Batman won't be interesting without his obsessions.

Second thing is, I much prefer superheroes in the form of the TV series like "Heroes" and "Smallville" rather than the costumed superheroes in the 1970's.

That, and I don't particularly like the format of a biography - I much prefer narrative.

Anyways, having stated my preferences, and probably described all the reasons my superhero character won't win the competition, here's my 0.02.

******************

There is a gaping wound over Singapore.

Few can see the the raw gash of glowing red hanging above the sky, but all can feel it. It turns the hope of a better tomorrow to a paranoid insecurity. It transforms honest work ethic into an overwhelming lust for consumption. It turns noble protectors into deluded oppressors. It turns virtue to vice, tolerance to ignorance, best intentions into Faustian bargains. It fuels the tiny bits of evil in every Singaporean and turns them into monsters.

It feeds as it is fed.

It grows every time a Singaporean is corrupted. Every time a maid is beaten, a friend is cheated, a half-truth is told on the national paper, the throbbing sky-wound gets just a little larger, a little brighter, a little more alive.

Singapore needs a hero. It has one.

Jimmy Lee wears no spandex. He wears his favourite wash-worn demin, along with a 10-dollar Giordano T-Shirt. He has no underground cave liar in Xiao Gui Lin - property prices in Singapore are insane enough without having to take out a second mortgage. He is no billionaire dilettante - he works at a tuition agency, trying to put his NIE Degree in Education to use. He has no Kansas-Farmboy good looks, nor dashing Creole accent, nor muscle-bound body - his face is too rough to be handsome, and his build too gangly to inspire schoolgirl dreams.

How can such an unlikely person be a superhero? That is what Jimmy asked himself too when his Eye appeared.

Like all other Singaporeans, Jimmy never expected to be taken in by a "magic stone" salesman. He expected to be smarter than that, with his cosmopolitan outlook and street smarts. He also never expected to develop a blood clot in the brain at the tender age of 27.

Too many blows to the head, the doctor said. Jimmy disagreed. While he professed a love for sports, and occasionally indulged in Tae Kwon Do sparring, he never sparred without safety gear. The blood clot was a mystery, but one that was slowly robbing his health. He had completely lost feeling in the tips of his fingers, and the vision in his left eye by the time he meet the snake-oil salesman.

To this day, Jimmy had no idea what possessed him to boil the stone, and consume the three 1.5 liter bottles of bright green stone distillate. What he does remember is waking up and seeing that his left eye had turned glowing green, and that the sky had a terrible wounding that bled red light.

He had recovered that day, of course. The doctor gave him a squeaky clean bill of health, and expressed surprise that even old tissue damage seems to have disappeared. The doctor never saw the glowing green eye. No one could. Just like no one could see that awful red glow.

Jimmy knew he was going to say that. He saw it in his glowing green left eye. He also saw that the doctor was having an affair with three nurses in the hospital, and that his wife had found out. Most of all, he saw that awful red glow in the doctor, ready to harvest the bitter fruit.

He saw the futures too.

Jimmy saw the first future, where the doctor returned, hurled abuse at his wife, then leave with a pre-packed bag. The wife died in that future. Tore her veins open with a razor and bled to death.

Jimmy saw the second, fainter future, the one which would happen if he confronted the doctor with what he knew now. He saw the doctor confess to his wife, honestly and sincerely, change over a new leaf, and live twenty years of marriage.

Jimmy didn't hesitate.

************

Since that day, Jimmy has been pulled from event to event, person to person, fighting the awful red glow and its corruption. He has been shot, stabbed, burnt and beaten, but every single time the wounds never lasted longer than 23 minutes. He's leapt over 8 meter fences, out-wrestled three sailors at Boat Quay, and outran the 171 bus to town. Jimmy's second lease of life also granted him some remarkable physical capabilities.

Yet, Jimmy's signature ability remains the Eye that Sees All. Every so often, the Eye reveals to him a person, one special person who is at the threshold of making a decision that will change a life. The Eye reveals to Dennis the greatest power of all - the power of a second chance, like the one he was given.

Perhaps, with enough second chances, Singapore can be saved from itself.

****************

Editor's notes: Some things don't convey well in narrative, so I'm putting them down here as notes.

My conception of Jimmy comes from what I see as two central definitions of Singapore:

1. The idea that Singapore is a victim of the Law of Unintended Consequence; and
   
2. the idea that Singapore is all about second chances.

Yes, Singapore has become very successful but for every action that it takes at success, it creates an kink for itself into the future. Think of the 2-child policy, for example.

What Singapore tends to forget, however, is that it is all about second chances. Our forefathers came to Singapore escaping political and economic persecution, for large part. Our own independence was centered around our seperation from the Malaysian Federation.

Given these two ideas, I think a uniquely Singaporean superhero would embody both these concepts. What if we could get a glimpse of what would really happen? Would it give us just that little push into making things right, doing things better, by getting that second chance?

I don't know, but through Jimmy I'd like to have the opportunity to find out.

Awesome Posts

I recently (meaning just last year) discovered the joys of the Penny Arcade forum.

Just a sample of the awesome posts found there.

Trowzilla said:

This was, of course, the exact moment my parents chose to have a long, involved talk with me about my grades. In the kitchen. With me holding a cucumber that had very recently been used for terrible, terrible purposes.

Another Trowzilla story:

I'd discovered fanfic as an endless, free source of kinky porn that I could print out and hide in my room, and while I figured a lot of it wasn't too realistic, I had no idea of how much. Anyway, so I'd found this Sailor Moon (shut up!) tentacle porn fic that really got me turned on, and while obviously I couldn't replicate tentacles, I figured I'd try out the other major element in the story: hot wax.

I agree with Scrublet's description of American Idol here:

The fact that it's so popular magnifies its shit quotient, such that even though it may not be the most vile shit, it's still the biggest. Sort of like how a massive 2-pound turd spawned from eating an entire loaf of bread would be greater, though far less objectionable, than the comparatively dainty 8-ounce calamity that results from downing an excess of Indian curry.

Have fun!

Angry Thoughts

What is the collective noun for idiots?

A flock of fools? A murder of morons? A star of simpletons?

Good lords, they just seem to multiply.

*********

What am I supposed to think when the only time you approach my family is for money? I had told you years ago that I do not support what you are doing already. Don't expect kindness when you have paid me and mine nothing but cruelty.

*********

What am I supposed to think? On one hand you've shown me kindness. On the other hand, you've delivered far less than what you've promised. How can you expect me not to be upset?

*********

What's wrong with them?! Can't they see that they are only rewarding short-term behaviour? What about those energy consumers that have consistently been using energy below the median? Is there no reward for the consistently responsible?!

(HT to Mr Miyagi)

*********

ANGRY!!