“What’s real?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you… you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes.” For he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at one, like being wound up, or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.”
-Margery Williams
“The Velveteen Rabbit”
How Much Is My Blog Worth? is a website that computes the total value of your blog. Kind of a cool idea, for sure, but it’s like, what is value anyway? That being said, my blog is apparently worth:
$1,693.62
Not too shabby for an unorganized glob of swirling semantics. I’m tempted to sell. The value is clearly on its way down…
Listen, if there’s anything I know, it’s good hip-hop. Trust me on this. And further, trust me that Roots Manuva and his new CD, ‘Awfully Deep,’ is fritzen off the charts! My guy, Ryck, is sharing a song of his called, Mind 2 Motion, but you gotta get more of him if you can handle it… This kid is just straight up cutty.
I wasn’t planning on advertising this, but I’ve got a few tunes up on my UO web space — a little Azeem, a little DJ Nu-Mark, a little Zion-I, and a little Heiruspecs…. and then some bogus, unfinished papers. The story of my life: music and unfinished papers. Ha!
Did you hear about Dave Chappelle skippin’ town? Crazyiness.
Did you hear about the many hip-hip personas of Kool Keith?
Here is a Star Wars video like you’ve never seen before, and all of you conscientious consumers out there ought to take a look, seriously:
Grocery Store Wars, may the Farm be with you!
(This might take a while for those of you with 54k modems; but its worth it…)
Please. Please, go see the movie, The Corporation, and, please, be as critical as you can possibly be, so when next we speak, … we can both recall our concerns as we raise them.
Wha’happen, star? I-man have done it, Rastas. Sight? I-man and the Jah youths in I apartment witnessed Rockers this week’end… ‘bout three o’ foh times. Cha! Now, what the-I say to I-man now, rasta? Seen. In Eugene I and I roll Proper, jah! Through the voice and sounds of I-heights, this dread rocked the roots of reggae… and I-man dun bought the soundtrack to match, rasta. ‘Dis is a take-ovahhh. And if the-I dohn like it:
Remove ya! I say.
My mind hurts and my heart throbs, and, at a loss for words, I’m wondering what I could possibly say to make you watch the movie, Hotel Rwanda.
Rebel Music – you live it, not chose it. Rebel Music, yeah. Movement, yeah.
This was written facing East,
In sleepy pearls of early mornings,
After two rakat salaats,
Where my body folds while falling,
Calling forward through the Heavens,
Plug my soul back in its socket,
Park my flying carpet,
And then embrace the day that started.
When it seems the Earth is sleeping – peep it:
Thought goes into actions,
Inspirations in my brains,
Spirits whisper words and captions;
And my hand begins to fly across the page from the reaction,
So fast I get dyslexic,
And I write my letters backwords.
With a passion like calligraphy,
A scupltor of the strange,
See, my lyrics make ‘em dance,
Like they had waterfalls for legs.
Bring the visions of a painter
To a canvas that was blank,
And shape a masterpiece –
Redecorate your mind with what we make.
It’s rebel music.
[Chorus:]
This is a movement that’s made to slay illusion
This is a soothin’: sun and moon and grass rooted
We put a light, and plus a torch to the confusion
Never lose it, Rebel Music
It’s a record revolution
Yo I done pointed many fingers,
Been caught tellin’ lies and failed,
Made unforgettable mistakes,
Because perfection’s not for sale.
Here, they’re starin’ like you’re weird
If you AINT never been to jail.
Some swallow pills with names from alphabets,
And tear ducts tend to swell,
‘Cause they told us men don’t cry,
And I been grown since I was twelve,
When they told us trust nobody – Damn,
I barely trust myself!
Pressure builds, trained to deal,
Change the taste of pain to milk.
Wish we had a dime for all the times
We tried to climb and fell.
So we fling our hopes to heaven,
Fear to everlasting hell.
You may not think were gonna make it,
But I know for sure we will!
So ‘till the day we reach the ESSENCE,
We’ll be fightin’ on this mission.
My heart has half of Love,
And half a hungry Lion in it
Rebel Music.
(Chorus)
This is not your favorite Lust song.
This ain’t R’n’B and Fashion.
This is Spirit, mixed with lyrics –
Dressed as music,
Filled with passion –
An Assassin, stabbin’ madness in its’ back,
Just for the answers.
And we travel like Moroccan Hash –
We make paths like ambulances.
Clear the way;
Our music’s dying on machines and tampered samples.
Yeah, I love to dance but, damn,
it’s like my radio got cancer.
Every time I change the station,
And they play out the summer anthems,
They’re all bland and seem to sound the same,
Like rain drops in Atlanta.
My band will kill it,
Like I jam with Sam and Manson.
So don’t Test it;
Feel the essence,
Seed to sidewalk circumstances
Picture that:
If I’m the seed
Then on the concrete where we landed,
There’s a crack!
We commin’ back with fruits;
Our roots are firmly planted.
Rebel music.
[Chorus:]
This is the music that makes you question what they’re doin’.
This is a soothin’: sun and moon and grass rooted.
We put a light, and plus a torch to the confusion,
Never lose it, Rebel Music.
This is a record revolution.
Rebel Music – you live it, not chose it. Rebel Music, yeah. Movement, yeah.
This was written facing East,
In sleepy pearls of early mornings,
After two rakat salaats,
Where my body folds while falling,
Calling forward through the Heavens,
Plug my soul back in its socket,
Park my flying carpet,
And then embrace the day that started.
When it seems the Earth is sleeping – peep it:
Thought goes into actions,
Inspirations in my brains,
Spirits whisper words and captions;
And my hand begins to fly across the page from the reaction,
So fast I get dyslexic,
And I write my letters backwords.
With a passion like calligraphy,
A scupltor of the strange,
See, my lyrics make ‘em dance,
Like they had waterfalls for legs.
Bring the visions of a painter
To a canvas that was blank,
And shape a masterpiece –
Redecorate your mind with what we make.
It’s rebel music.
[Chorus:]
This is a movement that’s made to slay illusion
This is a soothin’: sun and moon and grass rooted
We put a light, and plus a torch to the confusion
Never lose it, Rebel Music
It’s a record revolution
Yo I done pointed many fingers,
Been caught tellin’ lies and failed,
Made unforgettable mistakes,
Because perfection’s not for sale.
Here, they’re starin’ like you’re weird
If you AINT never been to jail.
Some swallow pills with names from alphabets,
And tear ducts tend to swell,
‘Cause they told us men don’t cry,
And I been grown since I was twelve,
When they told us trust nobody – Damn,
I barely trust myself!
Pressure builds, trained to deal,
Change the taste of pain to milk.
Wish we had a dime for all the times
We tried to climb and fell.
So we fling our hopes to heaven,
Fear to everlasting hell.
You may not think were gonna make it,
But I know for sure we will!
So ‘till the day we reach the ESSENCE,
We’ll be fightin’ on this mission.
My heart has half of Love,
And half a hungry Lion in it
Rebel Music.
(Chorus)
This is not your favorite Lust song.
This ain’t R’n’B and Fashion.
This is Spirit, mixed with lyrics –
Dressed as music,
Filled with passion –
An Assassin, stabbin’ madness in its’ back,
Just for the answers.
And we travel like Moroccan Hash –
We make paths like ambulances.
Clear the way;
Our music’s dying on machines and tampered samples.
Yeah, I love to dance but, damn,
it’s like my radio got cancer.
Every time I change the station,
And they play out the summer anthems,
They’re all bland and seem to sound the same,
Like rain drops in Atlanta.
My band will kill it,
Like I jam with Sam and Manson.
So don’t Test it;
Feel the essence,
Seed to sidewalk circumstances
Picture that:
If I’m the seed
Then on the concrete where we landed,
There’s a crack!
We commin’ back with fruits;
Our roots are firmly planted.
Rebel music.
[Chorus:]
This is the music that makes you question what they’re doin’.
This is a soothin’: sun and moon and grass rooted.
We put a light, and plus a torch to the confusion,
Never lose it, Rebel Music.
This is a record revolution.
I did it. Or rather, the cosmos aligned and I found myself at the Matisyahu show - with thorough company at that. Ira calls mid-week and is like, “Bell, listen, there’s this dude, he’s a jewish-rapper that raps to reggae beats. He’s philthy. He’s dope. And he’ll be in Eugene Saturday night — you gotta go.” So, I take the advice, start to rally the troops: I email some kids and get the word out. There was a time where 6 to 7 cats were down to go to the show with me and I was lookin’ forward to it, hard core.
But Saturday came around, and it was one of those days. That’s pretty much all I can say. We all have those days where you just want to be. ‘Where’ doesn’t matter, and words like “should” or “next” or “later” have no real significance. Your body’s tired, maybe a little sick. It’s slightly chilly outside. It’s the first good rain in weeks. Laying on the floor is appetizing, and being in good company with no real plan seems pleasant. Time is slipping, but you can’t feel it. I don’t know, it’s just one of those days. Slowly, my posse dropped like flies. Kids were goin’ to this BeerFest that was being put on by Rogue Brewery down at the fair grounds, and other kids were hangin’ out with their significant BF’s and GF’s. It’s that time of year I guess. So, I’m chillin’ at Susan’s, after watching 2/3 of Scarface; she wasn’t down to see the show, and I was steadily losing motivation. I put in a call to my man, Ira, he understands the situation, and I hang up feeling no real obligation to check out the show — which is chill. I mean it’s a bar scene, and lots of people all swirling around,.. I just wasn’t up for it, you know what I’m sayin’?
So, we get a call from Sam, John Meyer’s special someone who relocated to Eugene on Thursday. She had just moved into her cute little house, with her cute little dog, and was down to chill. On the way to her house, Goodwin and I make a pit stop at the show around to see when Matisyahu will be on stage. It turns out the dj is my guy Pete who works at the market around the corner, and I’m let in without forking over the $10 cover. On assignment, I ask Pete when Matisyahu will be on. He says around 11pm. I think to myself, “Chill… that’s plenty of time from now”. So, we show up at Sam’s with some wine, some beer, and do the whole housewarming thing. Sam makes a push for this Keller Williams show that’s happening on Sunday at 8pm. It’s tempting, and I throw-out a “we’ll see” and after an hour or so, I make a push for home.
On the way back, we decide to poke our heads into the John Henry’s Pub to see if Matisyahu is still playing and if we could get in without giving up the $10 cover charge. I mean, this is Eugene here people - $10 is a chunk of change. The guy at the front remembers me. To make a short story longer, I’m not really in the mood to watch the show so I explain that we just want to sneak in to grab a CD and that’s all. There’s kids behind us in line, and the pressures on… the dude is chill, asks for our ID (for collateral) and lets us in. Not more than 10 feet from the entrance do I see my roommate, Jake, and his friend Charlie about 20 feet from the stage. I spoke about the show with him earlier, but it didn’t seem like he was too down. But as luck would have it, they were at Max’s Pub, got bored and thought they’d check out the show. That’s when I turn around, looked up at the stage, and fell into instant harmony. There, on the stage, was this Rabbi lookin’ guy… full beard, curly sideburns, yamaka, and a mic. He was rockin’ hard.
The beats were pure. The reggae started to carry me. Matisyahu started to spit like a Beastie Boy-Bob Marley. There was a hip-hop flavor like i’ve never seen. He started to beatbox, and was just cuttin’ it up. The drummer started to mimic the beats, and after a brief soulfull hasidic chant, he broke into the DOPEST flow. I was there. It was fresh, on every level… an appeal to my soul, to my mind, to my heart, to my being… it was all there. Matisyahu was prophetic. He had a message. He was for the Jewish, what Marley was for the Rastafari. He could share the message through a medium that people could Feel, you know what I’m sayin’, that people could understand. And then he would hop in the crowd and get us all jumpin’. There was a bonding goin’ on in that place last night. Everyone was brothers and sisters. Everyone was one. One spirit. One soul, rockin’ together. My fist was up the whole time.
30 minutes later, I realized that time had passed, and that the dude at the front was probably wondering what was up, and how long it could possibly take to buy a CD. I mean, this is what I thought, but given the context, I knew he didn’t care. We were all in our element that night. During an instrumental interlude, I grabbed a CD, and went to talk with the man at the front, with no real intentions of leaving. I said, “hey man, I got the CD, but this show is everything and then some… there’s no way I’m gonna be able to turn my back on this. Do you think we could stay through the end of the show without throwin’ down for the $10 cover?”. He smiled, and gave me our ID’s and nodded with approval. “Chill,” I thought. And with that, we rocked out, hard, for another hour or so. The show was sensational.
Matisyahu is real. And will blow up. You heard it hear first. Check him out Live, if you can.
We’ve needed a voice like this for some time. His CD, Shake Off The Dust…Arise is bomb too. Your CD is in the mail, Ira. And I’m off to the Keller Williams show tonight. Should be a good time. (But no Matisyahu, that’s fo sho.) Oh, yeah, “upon further examination” this entry was super colloquial, but that’s just how it gots to be sometimes. You feel me on dat, ninja?
Word. (keepin’ it real).
I threw in a dozen hours of researching last night. I just starting another round. A brother gets worn down, you know what I’m sayin’? But it’s chill. And on top of it all, I picked up this new CD that is everything I need right now.
The group is Heiruspecs, and they just came out with this new disc called, A Tiger Dancing — way chill! Way. These kids put out that fresh hip hop vibe with the live instrumental band in the back, gettin’ the job done. Times are heavy, but times are good.
I know… I know… it’s been a long time coming, but can you blame me? I know there are people as excited to hear about nationals as I am excited to tell it. So, what’s the word? The word is: WE WON! We won the whole thing. The mixed nationals championship is ours! Seattle Shazam took the tourney in one of the most exciting ways possible — well, at least I think so. And to top it off, the women’s division title and the men’s (open) were won by the same city - SEATTLE! It was a total sweep.
Sarasota was great, and I have much to say… but for now, i’ll satistfy all of our appetites with some pics. Here are some pics and video from this random Blog site of a guy I don’t know…. and here are Bil’s Pics of all the divisions and a section devoted just to “Shazam.”
I will get back to you about details shortly. This week has been a frantic week of getting back into gear scholastically and I’m hoping to have my life back in order sometime this weekend. Oh, here are the results and scores and here are the Tourney write-ups if you’re interested in how all the games went down from a reporters perspective.
We got medals, and drank beer from giant trophies … there was champagne everywhere and smiles on all of my teammates faces… it was heaven. Really. I even got to meet your sister Volker (but only briefly).
Ok, gotta get back to work…
Daydream delusion; limousine eyelash.
Oh, what a pretty face.
Drop a tear in my wine glass.
Look at those big eyes.
See what you mean to me?
Sweet cakes and milkshakes.
I’m a delusion angel. I’m a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think,
Don’t want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I come from,
You have no idea where we’re going.
Launched in life, like branches in the river,
Flowing downstream, caught in the current.
I carry you; you’ll carry me.
That’s how it could feel.
Don’t you know me, Don’t you know me by now?
I’m in the market for suggestions. I’ve recently finished “The Da Vinci Code” for the 3rd time, and am about to send it to a long-time friend. (Don’t worry, Train, I’m just spreading the wealth. It will return). I can hardly imagine this book being beaten, but I’ll give it an ol’ Aaron Bell try. It takes the right book to captivate a listening audience. Especially on long, and lonely drives.
I’ll be making the 4 hour commute to Shazam practice on the weekends, thus giving me 8 hours of driving time to really get some solid reading(?) in. My first pilgrimmage begins in T-minus 30 hours, and I’m headed to the library to browse for titles.
Anyone? Anyone? …. Bueller?
[ps: hazaa! for tape decks.]
So, I’m in Beaverton at the Nike Campus - easily the most fantastic and extraodinary display of corporate athleticism at its finest — and I’m at Huge’s Computer (in his cubicle) when my phone rings. It’s Ira and he’s experienced the first of many life lessons. This is an unresolved world we live in, folks. And if you want to even come close to mastering it, if you even want a tiny semblence of understanding it … then coming to experience the “meaning” that precipitates from its randomness is the first step. Having experienced such an epiphany, Ira quickly dialed me up. And why not?
So, he’s in Milwaukee, as any good soul-searcher should be, and he’s found his life at the convergence of existence and Clamnation. Apparently, this is a pretty rad jazz band that woos its audience with a critical improv sound that gets the feet tappin’ and the voice hummin’. It was at this moment that Ira looks up and realizes that the entire crowd seemed to be jivin’ to their own tune. It was as if Clamnation’s vibe was single-handedly encouraging the masses to explore their own improvisational sound. Everyone’s adding their own individual part, and together there’s this whole new collective, eclectic sonance. A rhythm that is driven to draw you in even closer… even deeper. The very nature of Clamnation seems to be: providing a system of music (jazz) that allows for unique interpretation and that embraces the roots of our identity at its very soul.
As Ira and I spoke, I couldn’t help be hear the meddling of contributing voices in the distant background and the distraction of Ira’s own internal vibrations in the fore-. I was merely a receiver. I was solely a sounding board. I only resonated with the thoughts that Ira bounced off of me. His experience brought him to challenge his ideals of his yesterday. Clamnation, so perfectly named, has encouraged us all to question life’s little improvity. It raises the question: Have we been fooled into thinking that life is subject to only one system? … a system that we must learn to understand and a system that we must learn to imitate? Or, worse, have we been spoiled by the interpretations and the systems of those that have come before us, which so easily influence us and so subtly dictate our every interest, our every goal? Ira’s little encounter begs us to ponder - have we discovered that life is all one big improvisation… is it true that the greatest harmony and satisfaction comes from the union of a thousand different pipers piping, and a thousand different (human-)beings Being? Perhaps it is time for us all to seek out our own melody… and why not; it’s already bettered one gentleman’s life.
What the #$*! Do We Know? a new independent film that just came out. I saw it last Friday with my guy, Ira. It’s given me a lot to think about. For instance:
“If you can’t control your emotional state, you must be addicted to it.”
“You must love the abstract as much as you are addicted to the condition.”
Among others. I encourage you to see it. Sure, it’s woo-woo, but it gets at the heart and soul of the anomalies of our contemporary paradigm(s?), and emerges as one of the great conversations I think we should all be having right now. (Though this one guy doesn’t agree, but I wouldn’t suggest reading his review until after you’ve seen the movie - I mean, it’s such an obvious review/reaction anyways; let yourself be furthered before you’re brought back into the Structure.)
“Never ever doubt what no one is really sure about.” - Willy Wonka
So, yeah, I had a frisbee tourney this weekend down at Linfield. It was chill. It put the level of performance for our team in perspective. We’re a good team with a lot of heart, but with lots of improvement to be done (and maybe a shift in attitude). It’s certainly a rebuilding year. It’s this weird situation - we have a team of half vets and half newbies. So, there’s all these people with 3 or 4 years in the program, and others with 3 or 4 months (at best). Half the team is salivating at the mouth to destroy every team in our path, and the other half of our team is spinning around in circles desperately looking for a dump pass while every vet runs up to the shaky newbie, screaming, “Dump it, dump it!” It’s an interesting dynamic, and very difficult to captain. So, we got home after winning the concellation bracket because we dropped a goal-winning pass that would have taken us into the championship bracket (It was chill though, and prolly better for us in the long run). Anyways, there was this party at the ‘castle’ and I was going to go, but after making some biscuits and pouring myself a glass of wine, I found myself waking up on the couch at 9am the next morning. So, I’m assuming I didn’t go out. Well, this morning I hopped off the couch and made my way upstairs and turned on the the tele. Watched some stuff, and then “Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory” came on. I was sold. i watched with utter joy, and came across the quote above. Pretty cool quote, I thought. So I wrote it down.
That’s all. (pretty empty thought, really; you search for application and meaning - I’m going out to get some coffee).
I love “ninja movies.” There’s no doubt about it. If I happen to stumble into a movie rental place, without any real direction or objective, I immediately turn into a kid at the candy store as my eyes wander over the many movies in the “Martial Arts” section. Maybe its the fast action leg kicks and quick moving long-bows that suck me in, or maybe its the Asian historical content and traditional elaborate wardrobes which beg of my attention,… or maybe still, it could be the subtle delay of dubbed-english accents (usually British) over charismatic asian faces with fast moving lips — either way, there’s something to be said for renting a foreign film (of this caliber) and snuggling down under a fleece blanket with a bag of carrots (I happen to like carrots very much). These past two days I’ve made time to do just that.
So, Bruce Lee is the man, and everybody knows it. He’s great. He’s fast.. and certainly deserving of our respects. When I look to martial arts to be moved (in the spiritual sense of “moving”), I think of Bruce Lee. When i look to martial arts to be entertained, well … I have another preference - as great as Bruce Lee is and as much of legend as he will forever remain, my favorite martial art star, hands down, is Jet Li.
Jet Li is ultra-baddass. I’m not too down for his flashy hollywood stuff (which, I admit, is still pretty cool — Lethal Weapon 4 was phat, but in a different sort of way, you know?); I love his old school, comical-protagonistic asian films. All dubbed. All baddass. Of his films, I’ve seen:
*The Master (1 and 2)
*Shaolin Temple
*Swordsman (only the 1st)
*The Legend (aka “Fong Sai Yuk”) and the Legend II
*Tai Chi Master (extra Baddass, I must say)
*Fist of Legend
*Twin Brothers
*and some others, but I can’t remember the names.
I’ve watched other artists, but there’s just something extra-cool about Jet (can I call him jet?, I don’t know). so, I’m at Hollyvideo this past sunday with some great friends. Ike, Smith, Silly and I just got off the mountain after a great afternoon of snowshoein’ and snowfightin’, and my buddy Ike wants to rent “Kung Pow” - some slap stick comedy spoof about Kung Fu movies. And to be honest, i didn’t know what I thought about that sort of theme. but he assured me it was so stupid that it was funny (you know how there’s that boundary with some movies, and once it’s crossed, it’s somehow ok?) Anyways, we pull up to the place and I decide that I’ll let Ike and Silly run in and grab the vid. So, i chill in the car with smith, and we’re talking and its great, and then I’m like, “hey look, Leah (another housemate) is in the movie place with her boyfriend,” so I run out of the car and go jump on her back, or something. We talk, and then I realize I’m inside…
Movies are everywhere…. I immediately run over to the Martial Arts section, and start pruning through the shelves. Sure enough, one movie grabs my attention. (Aside: that’s the thing about martial arts movies, you never really know what you’re getting yourself into. There’s no trailer. There’s no advertisement. You’re just left to look at the cover, and maybe read the little blurb on the back, which is vaguely helpful, and if anything, part of the experience. You can get a 20 minute giggle out of the types of things they write on the backs of these movies. Every synopsis on the back reads something to the effect of: (INSERT: incredibly intense movie trailor voice) “Tsung Ya Chao (usually Jet Li) had wrongly lost his father’s eye patch in battle with the Soon Ming Clan’s one-armed soldiers of death and destruction, and now he must avenge is family’s honor and save his long-lost-unknown-can’t-be-trusted-backstabbing-but-will-come-around-in-the-end brother through 35 battles in super-fast motion using different weapons everytime … will he be able to handle such a chalnge??” And there’s usually spelling errors like that too —- cuz, this stuff is directly being translated by other countries, and often rhetoric gets looked over. It’s true.) So, I’m scanning, right?, and I see this movie entitled, “Swordmasters” with Jet Li. It seems baddass. It’s all this crazy cool ninja stuff with an empahsis on swords and the different sword clans. Now, i feel like a pretty crafty guy with a sword, but you should have seen the fight scenes they had displayed on the back. I knew I would need to get this one. But the real question was, “could I handle two movies this week?”
I had been slightly deprived. I probably hadn’t seen another ninja movie in over 3 months (last movie I saw was “The 18 Weapons of Kung Fu”; way cool). And then I saw it —- this movie called, “This is Kung Fu.” That back read something to the effect of, “CONFUSED with all the different types of Kung Fu on your TV? FRUSTRATED with not knowing which Kung Fu video is most Baddass? EAGER to find the best Kung Fu around —- well, look no further…” So, I listened, looked no further, and took both vids to the front desk. My guy Ike paid for them, and that was chill, and we went home and watched Kung Pow. Definitely a funny movie. Had a lot of laughs. We’ve incorporated some manuerisms into our social network, and I felt that I had an extra appreciation for the humor it was trying to provide, after having an astute background in the martial art movie business.
But the real joy came from waking up monday morning at 10am, making Costa Rican Pinto and Fish, and sitting down to watch “This is Kung Fu” with a plate of nostalgia and glass of Orange-Pineapple Juice. This movie was all that and then some. It was a documentary on Kung Fu, basically. It had great (if not famous) fight scenes from 15 of the best movies EVER, and provided an extensive history to martial arts, martial videos and martial artists. I learned so much. I feel like it was a great video for that virgin martial art enthusiast and the veteran alike. Here’s a little of what I gathered.
It started out with some great introspection into the culture of martial arts. It explained that, “Kung Fu skill is the optimum use of the human body.” And when you watch this stuff - the grace and the skill - you really see what a comment like this is getting at. It gave a bit o’ history on our guy Bruce, and touched on the 4 major films he did before he died of a brain aneurysm. They explained how “Jimmy Wang Wu” was sort of like the John Wayne of eastern films. He did this one movie where he had one arm cut off (for dignity) and then proceeded to whoop-up on fools. But, in the end I didn’t think he was that baddass. He did however team up a few times with this guy named, “David Chang” who played sort of a con-man in his films. He was a rising star that kept getting better and better and the chemistry between them — can I say enough? They had a bunch of tandem fights in this movie, “Shanghai 13” — extra cool pic. There was this scene where everyone was chillin’ in this restaurant and then all of these masked ninja assasins roll in through the paper walls and start wreaking havoc, but then Chang and Wu got the job done. Nice.
Another sweet actor was this guy, “Ti Lung.” He was hella traditional and extremely accurate. Come to think of it, I think it was Lung who was in Shanghai 13 with Chang (yeah, scratch Wu out of there, anyways …). Then there was the next american superstar who was supposed to be the next Bruce Lee, his name was Lo Lei (I think). He was in this movie called, “Devil and Angel” and that seemed neat. Then, I learned about this ultra cool asian super-star and I would love to see more of his work. He’s one of three brothers, but his brothers went into more of the producing aspect of martial arts cinema, and he became the star. Phonetically, I think it’s spelled, “Loi Chia Hui” and his brothers “Lui Chia Chang” and “Lui Chia Yung”. Hui was the actor and in movies like “warrior from Shaolin” he was awesome! See, most martial art movies tell the history of some aspect of ancient asia. If we think about it, China, in particular, has the longest history of any other civilization in the world. Martial arts is only a small way of re-enacting and reminding us of our worldly heritage. This movie taught me that when we see fighters with really short hair, its a movie that dates back to the era of the republic (1912-ish), and when the hair is long and down the center of the back, it’s the Ming Dynasty. There’s all this culture embedded delicately in each movie. It was really cool to watch myself become aware of these types of things. In fact, it made watching the movie that much more enjoyable for me, if that’s possible.
For example, in “Warrior from Shanghai”, Loi Chai Hui plays this Shaolin monk vs a Lama —- a very intense, sort of, religious dichotomy that is juxtaposed right here on the screen immersed in a very graceful battle of proaction and reaction. It was a sweet fight between sword and metal whip (btw, can I say enough about how many cool and different weapons are used? I think not.). This type of interplay between Shaolin and Lama is sort of like our western version of the Catholics vs the Protestants. Pretty cool, I thought.
Another cool movie, “Fists and Guts.” There’s this scene where the house is surrounded by this army with guns, so these two dudes inside have to fight silently so as to not make a sound which would ruin the chance to fight as it would alert the guys with guns (who would proceed to shoot them, of course). This by far, was probably the coolest scene I have ever witnessed. Hands down!
“Leg Fighters” was another ultra rad movie. It had all these famous leg fighting stars like “Tan tao Yang” but would team them up with big hitters like “Wang Tao” who is like the Chuck Norris of china. He was also in “the hot, the cool and the Vicious” and “Death Dual of Kung Fu,” teamed up with another leg fighter, “Jon Lui.” This stuff was incredible. There were all these long fight scenes, and the narrator even explained that martial art movies have long fight scenes so that their chinese audience and some americans (it actually said it like that) could appreciate the subtleties and development of the different fighting styles (because there are so many: ie, “white crane master” or “leg fighters” or whatever). And, it was cool to learn that in martial arts it is fair for fights of 2 against 1, especially if the 1 is an experienced white haired master, and in this particular movie, of the White Crane technique.
I feel like this movie helped refine my passion for Kung Fu. It introduced great movies, like “Art of War” with “Zsung Tsu” (an individual fighting man that fights with the military strategy of many) or “Fist Full of Talons” with “Billy Chong” (where he fights off the whole Ching Dynasty). For some reason the dignity and honor, the discipline and grace, the composure and excellence of self that these men and women fight with is most impressive. I can’t get enough. (Sidenote: the other movie i got, “Swordsman” was funny and interesting. I liked it a lot. There was a lot of flying, and I don’t really like that much. I definitely prefer movies that don’t exaggerate learned abilities. But there were some cool fight scenes and the plot was definitely cool… I surely don’t have time here to get into it… I didn’t even realize I rambled on so long about the first movie). So, yeah… ninja movies. It’s a whole new world. get there… and if you do, I’d suggest starting with “This is Kung Fu.”
I’m out. My flight to New Orleans leaves in 2 hours! Ultimate and Mardi Gras, HERE I COME!
All I can say is: “wow”
21 Grams… I got there, and it was good.
Wish me luck, world; I am coming home!……
I saw The Last Samurai today with my mother. I thought it was great. First of all, I’m a huge big fan of “ninja movies.” I know this isn’t the most politically correct, but, regardless, I am a sucker for bad-ass martial arts movies with (preferably) jet li, and subtitles. The faster, the better. The crazier, the cooler. The more weapons, the more I pee myself. I love it. I think I just have an undying interest in hand-to-hand combat that tests the maximum abilities of the human body —- forget all this gun and shooting stuff…. throw me a sword! Plus, I think I’m really drawn in to the eastern way of living and the spirituality, discipline, and compassion that samurais tend to embody. This movie certainly appealed to the Honor inherent in Japanese culture, and the ongoing culture clash that any eastern nation has as it confronts western revlolutionizing. Now, sure, this was no “18 Weapons of Kung-fu”, but it had pretty great fight scenes and appealed to all the emotions. I was down. This movie was alright, for sure. (yes, for some reason, here, my writing is wrought with colloquialism - but I was down for this movie!). Anyway, there were a lot of great lines, that I really appreciated, and that seemed to offer light to my own cloudy journey through life. I especially liked, “too many mind” —- well, specifically its context and ultimate meaning. And I especially liked the following conversation between Captain Algren and Katsumoto on the battle field:
K: Do you believe a man can change his destiny?
CA: I believe a man does what he can until his destiny is revealed.
Lastly, I’ll say this… the inscription on the sword, “I belong to the man in whom the old has met the new” (or something like that) is extra awesome!
Jolly good.