Saxophones and Habitual Acts of Physical Violence

Habitual Acts of Physical Violence (HAPV) was all the rage a few years ago.  I haven't heard much about it recently, or at least that particular acronym, which got me to thinking. Why do you need to know 36 HAPV? How do you come up with the number 36 in the first place? It reminds me of Sanseiru, another 36 whose cryptic meaning has spawned all manner of strange interpretations. So is there something inherently magical about 36? I suppose someone is going to say that it's just a way to organize or wrap your head around different scenarios. That makes some sort of sense. But still, acts of aggression happen very quickly. Should I be thinking of which act of violence a particular technique is a response to when I need a quick response? Should I necessarily be thinking at all?

This is where the saxophone part comes in. My son, who has just started sax lessons, had an interesting admonition from his sax teacher the other day. He told him to try to just play the notes he sees on the scale--he said, "try not to say the name of the note in your head when you play it." This sort of by-passing the need to consciously verbalize (or think about) what you are doing made a lot of sense to me.

Back to the Habitual Acts of Violence thing....So you have 36 of these HAPV, and on that list are such things as #32 garment pulled over the head, #24 both hands grabbed from the front, #28 front arm-bar.... Now one would certainly need to respond to these aggressive acts. But aside from the rather obvious--for any number of them can't I just punch or kick the other guy?--my real question hinges on how you got yourself into this fix in the first place. Most of these acts of violence occur when you are attacked by an opponent, and that unarmed attack, I assume, means he comes at me with one or both hands, a foot, or charges me like a bull with his head. So putting the kicks and tackles aside for the moment, how many ways do I need to know to respond to his hands? He can attack with the left or the right, and on the inside or the outside. So I can block (or "receive") each attack with one of four blocks; that is, my left arm to his right arm on the inside or the outside, and my right arm to his right arm on the inside or the outside, and the same on the other side.

This would seem to me to be a much simpler way of looking at HAPVs or the multiplicity of ways one might be attacked. And if we can simplify our perception of the attack, perhaps the initial response may also be simplified and more reactive, spontaneous, or reflexive. It would, it seems to me, facilitate quick responses instead of having to think about, if you will, which "note" is being played. And lastly, each receiving
technique would lead to a limited, but still somewhat open-ended, number of bridging techniques and finishing techniques taken from other kata--thus encouraging a familiarity with variations that are useful in volatile and quick-changing encounters. So rather than expanding the list of Habitual Acts of Physical Violence--and there actually would seem to be more than 36 since the list includes variations of single-handed and two-handed attacks and the same attack from the front and the back--we should perhaps look to reduce them as much as possible. Goju-ryu classical subjects do show responses to attacks from the rear--such as the Shisochin response to #17 rear over-arm bear hug--but for the most part even a #31 single-hand shove is really the same as a #3 straight punch or a #30 single lapel grab or for that matter a #11 single-hand hair pull from the front, etc., etc., etc.  But whatever you do, "try not to say the name of the note in your head when you play it."

People say the damnedest things

I was raised to think that there were no stupid questions...only stupid answers. But I think I may have grown more curmudgeonly as I get older. Human behavior in general perplexes me. Sometimes it's the big things that confuse me--like why would someone place a bomb at the finish of the Boston Marathon? Sometimes it's just stupid little things--like the guy driving next to me on the highway at 65 miles an hour and texting with the phone right up in front of his face. Well, maybe that's not such a little thing either. But here's my list of stupid karate questions, and it's not exhaustive by any means, only the ones that come to mind at the moment:

What's your favorite kata? (If it is a system, should we be focusing on individual parts of the system to the exclusion of others or favor one part over any other part?)
How high (or low) should your shiko-dachi be? (Does it really matter as long as it is stable and functional?)
Do you practice karate or karate-do? (I practice this stuff. I don't really care what you call it.)
Why does this teacher (or was it that teacher) turn his foot when he steps forward in Sanchin? (Sanchin is a kata to train stance and posture and breath, etc. It's not a bunkai kata. It doesn't matter whether you turn the foot before you step.)
Is this a cluster "M" kata or a cluster "H" kata? (Who decided on these categories anyway? Whoops, that's not fair responding to a question with a question. Ah, tough, that's all it deserves.)
How long does it take to make black belt? (As long as it takes.)
What kata is the best for self defense? (Depends, doesn't it?)
Do you kick with the ball of the foot or the heel? (Depends, doesn't it?)
What kata is the deadliest? (All of them.)
Should you cross-train? (Don't we already?)
Did you know that karate was not even systematized until the 20th century? (Not fair--rhetorical! Why do people ask questions they already know the answer to?)
Which do you think came first, kata or bunkai? (Emphasis on you and thinking, as if this is, in fact, open for discussion. It's not. Guess what the answer is.)
Hey, I wonder what it would be like to focus on one kata for five years? Or even one technique for a year? (Stupid. What a waste.)
Do you say "Osu"? (Will it help my karate?)
Do you spend more time on basics, kata, or two-person bunkai? (You do what you need to do, don't you?)
Do you wear a gi at your school? (What for?)

Matayoshi sensei helping my
daughter Emily on her first bike.

Do you practice "flow drills"? (Whatever the hell they are?!)
Do you compete in tournaments? (No, I buy my plastic trophies at the local sporting goods store instead.)
Aren't all styles really the same--they just take different paths to eventually get to the same place? (No, some styles are better than others.  And some are so corrupted that it's hard to see the original intent anymore.)
What the heck is "oyo" bunkai? (Now that's a good question. And while we're on it, what are different levels of bunkai? Bunkai is bunkai.)

The Greeks had a name for it...hubris. Most of these questions reek of hubris. A Greek tragedy in the making. This rant smacks of hubris too, doesn't it? But that's the irony of it, isn't it?