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When it comes to martial arts, the action is often the main attraction—fast fists, dramatic kicks, and bone-crushing throws. But sometimes, it’s the words that hit the hardest. Martial arts films and TV shows have delivered some of the most iconic quotes in cinematic history, offering timeless wisdom, motivation, and the occasional dose of humor. Here are some of the most memorable martial arts quotes that still resonate with fans, inspiring both martial artists and moviegoers alike: 1. “Be water, my friend.” – Bruce Lee, Longstreet  (1973) This quote is perhaps Bruce Lee’s most famous and encapsulates his philosophy of adaptability and fluidity. Lee was all about mastering the ability to be like water—flexible, formless, and ready to flow with any challenge that comes your way. It’s a life lesson that resonates in all aspects of lif 2. “I am the one who will break you.” – Ivan Drago, Rocky IV  (1985) Recent Black Belt Magazine cover star Dolph Lundgren's character of Ivan Drago has a menacing quote in Rocky IV   which became iconic. The sheer coldness and determination in his voice as he challenges Rocky to his toughest fight remains a memorable moment in boxing and martial arts cinema. 3. “You miss 100 % of the shots you don’t take.” – Wayne Gretzky (often quoted in martial arts films, notably The Karate Kid  1984) Though originally from hockey legend Wayne Gretzky, this quote has been adopted by martial artists in many films, like The Karate Kid . It’s all about taking the shot, whether it’s in the dojo or in life. In martial arts, if you hesitate, you risk losing—whether it's the match or the opportunity. 4. “Fear does not exist in this dojo, does it?” – John Kreese, The Karate Kid  (1984) John Kreese’s menacing, no-nonsense attitude shines through with this line. As the ruthless sensei of the Cobra Kai dojo, he instills a philosophy of toughness at all costs. While his methods are controversial, the quote still stands as a stark reminder of the power of confidence and control in a fight. 5. “This is the way.” – The Mandalorian, The Mandalorian  (2019–present) Okay, this might be more of a subtle nod than a direct martial arts quote, but The Mandalorian  and the Star Wars  universe often draw from martial arts principles in their combat sequences. The phrase “This is the way” embodies a martial artist’s dedication to their discipline and code of honor, similar to a dojo’s philosophy of following a strict, honorable path. 6. “To know yourself is to know your enemy.” – Sun Tzu, The Art of War  (often quoted in martial arts films and TV) This ancient piece of wisdom from the legendary strategist Sun Tzu has been quoted in many martial arts films, underscoring the importance of self-awareness in combat. Whether it’s Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon  or characters in countless martial arts flicks, the ability to understand your own strength and weaknesses is key to overcoming challenges. 7. “I’m gonna show you how great I am.” – Muhammad Ali, quoted in Ali  (2001) Although this quote comes from the legendary boxer Muhammad Ali, it’s often referenced in martial arts films to inspire confidence, self-belief, and a relentless drive to be your best. It’s about stepping into the ring and proving to yourself—and to the world—that you’ve got what it takes. Why These Martial Arts Quotes Stick These quotes transcend the silver screen, becoming guiding principles for martial artists in real life. Whether it’s a battle in the ring or a personal challenge, these words inspire confidence, determination, and an unwavering will to improve. Martial arts isn’t just about punches and kicks; it’s about building a mindset and philosophy that resonates long after the credits roll.

Origins Around 495, a nondescript Buddhist temple called Shaolin was constructed in Henan province in eastern China. Thirteen years later, an Indian monk named Bodhiruchi arrived with the intention of schooling the locals in Dhyana, his preferred form of Buddhism. Arrival Some 30 years later, another Indian monk showed up at Shaolin. His name was Bodhidharma. (Tamo in Chinese, Daruma in Japanese, Dalma in Korean) Meditation For reasons that remain contentious, Bodhidharma retreated to a cave in the nearby Song mountains, where he supposedly spent nine years meditating in front of a wall. When he descended to the temple, he noted the poor condition of the young monks and decreed that physical fitness was a prerequisite for spiritual fitness. Training Most of Bodhidharma’s lessons focused on meditation and yogic exercises. Many claim he also taught abdominal breathing and chi development. Influence Over the ensuing centuries, Bodhidharma and Shaolin Temple gained fame first in China and then around the world. Dhyana Buddhism evolved into Chan Buddhism (Zen in Japanese), and the monastery produced a cadre of fighting monks who practiced what we refer to as Shaolin kung fu. Legend According to some historians, all that happened because Bodhidharma’s meditative teachings were merged with basic Indian self-defense techniques often used by monks on the road. Once perfected, the combination was fierce. Whenever criminals targeted traveling Shaolin priests, they were reportedly repelled with ease and efficiency. Fears The temple’s history purports that after numerous victories over enemies of all stripes, the Chinese government grew suspicious, and then fearful, of the monks and their monastery. Officials prohibited them from practicing their martial art at various times, and parts of the compound were burned on several occasions. Specifics History confirms that anti-Buddhism campaigns took place in China in the fifth, sixth, and ninth centuries. Other efforts by government officials and warlords wreaked havoc on the temple in the 14th, 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. Doubts Because many researchers are skeptical about this popular history of Shaolin kung fu, it's useful to examine what we do know. First is the contention that Shaolin Temple was the birthplace of all martial arts. This is demonstrably false. Evidence of pre-Shaolin fighting systems has been found in Babylon, Egypt, and various parts of East Asia. Perhaps the first documented description in China comes from the Han dynasty (206 B.C.-A.D. 220), when “Six Chapters of Hand Fighting” was written. Later, a physician named Hua Tuo (220-265) analyzed the movements of the bear, tiger, monkey, and stork, which some scholars have linked to the animal-based techniques of kung fu. Documentation In search of other evidence, historians have looked for the remains of any texts Bodhidharma might have written at Shaolin. Their only discovery comes from a monument to his life that required repair after years of neglect. Inside was reportedly an iron box containing a book called I Chin Ching. Examination I Chin Ching, or Muscle Change Sutra, was translated and studied in detail. To the dismay of many, it's not a martial arts instruction manual. Rather, it describes a series of breathing and stretching routines intended to strengthen the body and enhance chi flow. Counterpoint It's worth noting that some researchers insist that I Chin Ching dates from after Bodhidharma's death—perhaps from as recently as the 1600s. Exhibit A Whether or not I Chin Ching is connected to Shaolin, several artifacts can be found there, pointing to the temple’s martial past. On the floor of the One Thousand Buddhas Pavilion are rows of paired indentations that reach several inches into the stone. They're the result of generations of feet stomping while practicing kung fu. Exhibit B Two murals decorate Shaolin's Hall of White Robes. One, said to depict “Six Harmony Boxing,” shows various empty-hand techniques being executed. Readily identifiable are the tiger-claw strike and chi sao. The second mural depicts monks wielding weapons, including the staff and short sword. It's believed both works date from between 1640 and 1890. Alternative The “standard history” of Shaolin Temple is fascinating, to be sure, but one that's promulgated by people who reject it is perhaps more plausible and just as interesting in the grand scheme of things. It holds that combat skills were widespread in China long before the founding of Shaolin (a given) and that they were brought there by outsiders who were experienced fighters prior to their donning of monks' robes (conjecture). Refinement In the temple, those newcomers supposedly augmented their martial skills with the teachings of Bodhidharma. As word spread of a Buddhist temple where the fighting arts were practiced, it attracted masters of other styles who were in need of a safe house or who had Buddhist leanings. In this way, the monastery was eventually transformed into a martial arts melting pot of sorts. Contribution Even if Bodhidharma never taught a single kick or punch, he was probably the first person to use the self-discipline, universal compassion, and reverence for life taught in Buddhism as a means to moderate the potentially deadly techniques of systematized combat. Had those influences not been added, it's doubtful the Asian arts could have survived until the present and unlikely they could have influenced history so profoundly. Go! No matter what scholars determine about the true history of Bodhidharma and Shaolin, the temple remains an inspiring destination for all martial artists. Yes, government officials have transformed it into a pay-to-play tourist attraction, but the costs associated with visiting the temple pale in comparison to the inspiration and sense of history one gets from walking the ground where Bodhidharma created his legacy.

“The only fights you truly win are the ones you don't have.” – Lee Child Keeping that quote in mind, along with the fact that crime is a product of opportunity, will take you a long way toward being a "master of self-defense" in that it simply removes as many opportunities as possible from your behavior. That said, let me point to a bit of advice from a former CIA operative named Jason Hanson, who says that the No. 1 tip he can offer to make people a bit more like Jason Bourne is this: "Always be aware of your surroundings." Easier said than done, right? Well, he goes a bit further by offering what he considers the most important thing you can do to increase your awareness of your surroundings: Don’t use a smartphone in public. Hanson says spy craft prohibits the use of smartphones not just because of the tracking potential but because it encourages "absorption," or a retreat from where you are to a place that’s not here. He points to the numerous instances of car crashes related to smartphone use but says that observation doesn’t go far enough. He’s cataloged an impressive battery of incidents in which victims were chosen simply because they were the animals at the watering hole with their heads down, blind to their surroundings. Lest anyone think that my use of the word "blind" goes too far, Hanson backs up his contention with copious examples of security-camera footage of people being blindsided in all sorts of public spaces. The reason: Their eyes were glued to the screen of their cellphone. Two astonishing examples come to mind. The first took place in a bar that was robbed at gunpoint. The predator actually stood next to the smartphone user during the robbery. The smartphone user moved down a seat as if courteously giving the man some room. He never looked up from the screen. When the police arrived after the robbery, the smartphone user had nothing to offer in assistance. He had no idea the robbery even happened. The second example involves an incident aboard a bus in San Francisco. The footage clearly shows all the passengers with their faces glued to their screens as a man got on board. The new rider then pulled out a gun and brandished it — while no one noticed. The predator looked confused, put away the weapon, seemed to think for a moment and then pulled it out again. This time, he used it. The precious window of opportunity to avert the tragedy had been lost. If you think, "I’m not that way — I’m perfectly aware of my surroundings even while I use this marvel of technology," you’re dismissing all the science that describes the way the human brain functions. As researchers always tell us, we simply do not multitask well. In a recent study of time-loss perception, smartphone users were timed by hidden observers while they periodically checked their phones in a casual dining environment. When asked how long they thought their interaction with the phone had lasted, they consistently underestimated the time by 80 percent. Translation: Human beings generally have no idea how long their attention is actually lost, how long they are blind. Side rant: I’ve got a biased dog in this fight. I abhor texting and phone use in my presence. I think it’s rude. It says to the others who are present: "Yeah, you’re here, but this person who didn’t take the time to actually come out and meet with me is going to be my priority. You’re my analog booty call." I see this behavior displayed even by folks I personally like. It appears to be a cultural shift that I don’t get. It would not fly a decade ago. It would have been akin to me stopping in the middle of a conversation, pulling out a worn copy of Moby Dick and knocking off a page or two before getting back to my fellow human being. Even inveterate texters would find that a bit odd, if not rude. But I assure you that today’s lesson is not "Black Belt writer shakes his finger at kids today." It’s about being situationally aware. Being blind to your dinner companions is one thing, but being blind to predators with weapons is another. Knowing that trained CIA personnel are taught to drop the smartphone, how can anyone think that lesser-trained citizens will be more resistant to its temptations? I offer a challenge for those who are brave: Leave your phone at home for 24 hours. Be awake for a day. Be aware. Next, shoot for a week — particularly if you found being phoneless for a day uncomfortable. It’s a testament to the power of these devices that when I task clients with a difficult drill such as doing 500 burpees in a day, they usually complete it, but when I ask them to wean themselves off their smartphone for a few days, the failure rate is far higher. In a nutshell, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t be prepared operators in the world who claim to value situational awareness and self-protection and at the same time be checking every ping and chime that emanates from that electronic leash. Aware martial artists don't text in public, and they don’t surf the Web there, either. By all means, carry a phone for the conveniences and safety measures it provides, but make it a flip-top phone that is, well, a phone.

Using a serrated bread knife, can you cut a baguette, a loaf of French bread, in a single stroke? If you can't, you have work to do in the dojo. In our neighborhood, several families come to our house regularly for dinner. Some of them have children, and when the kids see me working in the kitchen, they want to help. TV shows and celebrity chefs have made cooking an attractive activity, making them eager to learn. I’ve introduced several young people to basic kitchen skills. The first time they handle a knife or a Chinese cleaver, I watch their body language. These children have been raised playing video games and doing things that require fine muscle control. You can see that when they handle a blade. All their focus goes into their hands. They understand instinctively that the muscles of the hand won’t do big work, so they immediately hunch their shoulders and try to get their arm muscles to do it. They look stiff and awkward. In many cases, they’re frightened. Most have never held a sharp object. Very often, this will have been the first “adult” thing a child of 12 or 13 has ever done. Their posture is usually awful, and their cuts are tentative, small, and ragged. It’s no coincidence you see this same behavior in the karate dojo. Beginners in the Dojo Beginners often assume the same stiff-legged stances. Their sense of their body mechanics moves instantly up to their shoulders. For all the work their lower bodies are doing, they might as well be sitting in a chair. Their movements are spastic and uncoordinated—and largely ineffectual. If you have a well-trained itamae , or sushi chef, in your town, it’s worth having dinner there to watch him use a blade the right way. Notice how he handles the long knife to slice fillets from pieces of fish. (If he’s from Tokyo, the knife will be pointed at the end. If he’s from western Japan, it’ll be rounded.) He never “saws” the meat. He slices with one clean stroke as he pulls the blade toward him. Don’t watch his hands, though. Pay attention to his posture. If you’ve been doing any kind of budo  for very long, you’ll see similarities in the way the itamae  moves and the way good karateka  move. The chef will always have his knees slightly flexed when he’s cutting. His shoulders are relaxed. The initiation of movement comes from his hips. His elbows are close to his body so his arms move in coordination with his trunk. Lessons in Motion If you have to do occasional yard work, it’s a good investment to purchase a Japanese-style pruning saw from a hardware store. The blade usually folds into the handle and is gently curved along its back. Like all Japanese saws, it will cut not on the push stroke like a Western saw but as you pull. If you try to use it as you would a Western saw—with your shoulder and arm muscles—you'll find going through even a small tree limb painfully exhausting. Try, instead, to use the saw exactly the way karate has taught you to punch harder. Keep your elbow touching your side. Instead of using your shoulder to make the movement, use your hip. Remember that your hip is connected to your hand. Your shoulder is not a source of power; it’s just a link. Your hips provide the power. Relax your shoulder and let hip movement do the work. Try it, and you’ll be surprised how quickly and smoothly the blade rips through the branch. The sushi chef moves the same way, essentially, as a person who’s correctly wielding a Japanese pruning saw—and exactly as you should when punching in the dojo. Your body is relaxed, your knees flexed. Your shoulders play a minimal role because, as I just reminded you, they’re just connecting your hands to your hips. The Universality of Somatic Movement The universality of somatic movement in Japanese culture is an intriguing aspect of how civilization has evolved there. I’m not suggesting that all Japanese people move smoothly and economically. I have seen some klutzes walking (barely) around in Japan. Rather, my point is that the efficient ways of accomplishing certain tasks within Japanese society share commonalities. When a Japanese calligrapher makes a stroke with his brush, you’ll see his arm is connected to his body exactly as we’ve been discussing. He doesn’t use his fingers to manipulate the brush; he moves and writes from his hips while his shoulders are relaxed. I’m also not suggesting that non-Japanese are automatically unable to move efficiently. Any good boxer understands precisely how to get his hips behind his punches. A commercial fisherman works on the heaving deck of a ship with harmonious grace. These people have learned to move efficiently. In this context, the word “efficiently” means “gracefully.” It’s similar in the dojo. The relaxed, flowing kicks and punches unleashed by a skilled karateka  have an aesthetic quality about them. It’s not the goal of karate to look good. Looking good is a byproduct of having correct, economical movement. Get yourself a loaf of French bread and a knife. If you saw at it using your biceps and forearm, it’ll take several strokes to make a complete slice. Try it while keeping your elbow close to your side and relaxing your shoulder. Don't “pull” the knife. Instead, draw it through the bread with a steady movement of your hip. You’ll find the knife goes right through, making a clean stroke. If only the movements of karate were as easily mastered.

Martial arts movies have always been more than just films—they’re a window into cultures, philosophies, and fighting styles. Whether it’s the rapid-fire punches of Bruce Lee or the gravity-defying stunts of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon , these films have captured the imagination of audiences for decades.  But how did we get from the early days of kung fu flicks to the global blockbuster martial arts hits of today?  It’s time to take a journey through the decades to see how the genre has evolved, reflecting both changing times and evolving tastes. 1960s: The Birth of Action The 1960s weren’t just about rock and roll and the space race—this was also the decade martial arts movies began to burst onto the international scene. While the genre had long been established in Asia, it was during this time that Western audiences started to take notice, and the first real waves of martial arts stardom began. Why It Was Great: Kung Fu and Samurai Culture : This decade introduced audiences to traditional martial arts like kung fu, judo, and the art of the samurai. It was a window into ancient philosophies and practices that resonated deeply with fans. Honor and Duty : Films focused heavily on themes of honor, duty, and loyalty, with heroes who would sacrifice everything for their code. It was the kind of stuff that made audiences cheer. Notable Films & Shows: The Green Hornet  (1966-1967): This wasn’t just a superhero series—this was where Bruce Lee made his American debut and began capturing hearts with his unparalleled charisma and speed. The Hidden Fortress  (1958): Akira Kurosawa’s samurai epic would lay the groundwork for the films that followed, influencing directors like George Lucas in his creation of Star Wars . The 1960s were just the beginning. They laid the foundation for what would become a worldwide martial arts explosion. 1970s: Bruce Lee Breaks Through Bruce Lee—need we say more? The 1970s were truly the decade when martial arts went global, thanks to Lee’s groundbreaking presence on screen. His fluid movements, explosive energy, and profound philosophy turned him into a global icon, and martial arts films quickly went from niche to mainstream. Why It Was Great: Philosophy Meets Fists : Lee brought a mix of martial arts and philosophy to his films, creating something deeper than just fight sequences. His personal approach to martial arts, Jeet Kune Do, became as much about mental discipline as physical prowess. The Lone Fighter : The theme of the solitary hero, often up against corrupt systems or forces larger than life, became a staple in martial arts films. It was all about one person making a difference—often with his fists. Notable Films & Shows: Enter the Dragon  (1973): Bruce Lee’s magnum opus, blending martial arts with espionage in a way that would influence countless films to come. Kung Fu  (1972–1975): Starring David Carradine, this TV series followed a wandering Shaolin monk, Kwai Chang Caine, and introduced Western audiences to martial arts philosophy, zen teachings, and action. Five Deadly Venoms  (1978): A Shaw Brothers classic that’s still revered by martial arts fans for its unique blend of kung fu and storytelling. This was the golden era of martial arts, where the genre was finally taken seriously in the West, and Bruce Lee became a household name. 1980s: From Kung Fu to Action Hero By the 1980s, martial arts had firmly planted itself in global pop culture, but the genre was evolving. The traditional kung fu films were starting to give way to a more Westernized, action-packed style, with stars like Chuck Norris, Jean-Claude Van Damme, and Steven Seagal becoming popular. Why It Was Great: Bigger, Badder Heroes : Gone were the meditative, honor-bound warriors of the 1970s. Now, audiences wanted their heroes big, tough, and invincible. Action took center stage, and martial arts moved from philosophy to pure spectacle. Escapism and Masculinity : These films were bigger than life. Heroes would take down an army with nothing but their fists, and the films were built on the kind of escapism audiences craved during the 80s. Notable Films & Shows: Bloodsport  (1988): Jean-Claude Van Damme’s ultimate breakout film, featuring underground fighting and showcasing martial arts in a fresh, high-octane way. Missing in Action  (1984): Chuck Norris solidified his status as the ultimate action star. The Karate Kid  (1984): Not only did this film inspire a new generation of martial artists, but it became a cultural phenomenon that reached beyond the dojo. While it wasn’t as philosophical as the 1970s, the 80s brought martial arts to the masses, combining grit and action in a way that would define the next phase of the genre. 1990s: Martial Arts Meets Hollywood The 1990s saw martial arts movies get even bigger, especially with the emergence of martial arts stars from Asia like Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and Michelle Yeoh. These stars not only took Hollywood by storm but also brought a new style of fight choreography—one that was just as much about acrobatics as it was about raw power. Why It Was Great: East Meets West : The lines between Eastern and Western filmmaking began to blur, with stars from Hong Kong and other Asian countries gaining global recognition. This opened the doors for more diverse storytelling and choreography. Martial Arts as Choreography : The 90s brought a focus on precision and acrobatics, with martial arts choreography becoming more complex and theatrical than ever before. Notable Films & Shows: The Matrix  (1999): A game-changer. The film didn’t just use martial arts; it reinvented how action scenes could be filmed, bringing elements like wire-fu and slow-motion choreography to the mainstream. Rumble in the Bronx  (1995): Jackie Chan’s Hollywood debut, blending his signature physical comedy and fight choreography with a more mainstream American sensibility. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon  (2000): This film’s release may have been just after the turn of the millennium, but it’s impossible to overlook how it reignited a global interest in wuxia and classic martial arts films. The 90s were a turning point for martial arts cinema, as stars and fight scenes started crossing cultural boundaries, making martial arts films a more global phenomenon than ever before. 2000s: Wuxia & CGI-Fueled Action The 2000s marked a transition in martial arts films, where CGI began to play a larger role in choreographed fight scenes. At the same time, wuxia films experienced a resurgence, with more fantastical, gravity-defying combat sequences becoming the norm. Why It Was Great: Fantasy and Escapism : The blending of traditional martial arts with fantasy elements like flying warriors and swordplay became a dominant theme. Global Influence : The era of globalization continued, as filmmakers from around the world collaborated, and stars like Jet Li and Tony Jaa brought their homegrown styles to global audiences. Notable Films & Shows: Hero  (2002): This visually stunning wuxia film made waves with its poetic combat sequences, reinforcing the genre’s reach. Kill Bill: Vol. 1  (2003): Quentin Tarantino’s tribute to martial arts movies, full of homages to kung fu, samurai, and everything in between. Ong-Bak  (2003): Tony Jaa’s incredible performance and the raw, grounded fight sequences in this film made it an instant classic. In the 2000s, martial arts films became a mix of tradition and innovation, combining the old with the new to create a fresh, dynamic style that would carry into the next decade. 2010s: Martial Arts in the Digital Age The 2010s and beyond brought martial arts films into a new era, one where digital technology, social media, and global access played huge roles in shaping the genre. We saw a resurgence in grounded, realistic fight choreography while still appreciating the stylized, almost superhuman performances of stars like Keanu Reeves in John Wick . Why It Was Great: Realism Meets Stylization : The trend towards realistic, visceral fight choreography took hold, but stylized, hyper-technical fights continued to dominate. Global Collaboration : Martial arts stars continued to transcend borders, with filmmakers and actors from all over the world contributing to the genre. Notable Films & Shows: John Wick  (2014): A game-changer in terms of fight choreography, focusing on precision, fluidity, and reality in its gun-fu and martial arts sequences. The Raid  (2011): A brutal, intense action film that raised the bar for what audiences could expect from martial arts movies. This era has seen martial arts films continue to evolve, both in style and execution, driven by modern filmmaking tools and the growing digital landscape. 2020s: Martial Arts Meets the Streaming Age The 2020s have ushered in an exciting new era for martial arts cinema, as streaming platforms, international collaborations, and digital content have created a more accessible and diverse global martial arts landscape than ever before. Martial arts have more fully embraced modern cinematic technology, creating thrilling action films that blend cutting-edge techniques with traditional hand-to-hand combat. Why It’s Great: Digital Innovation : From TikTok videos to YouTube creators, martial artists around the world are gaining fame by showcasing their incredible skills online, leading to new opportunities in the film industry. Diverse Storytelling : Films and series now explore martial arts from around the globe, with narratives that reflect contemporary issues and cultures. Notable Films & Shows: Warrior  (2019–2020): A TV series based on Bruce Lee’s writings, blending his philosophy with intense action and exploring historical and modern themes. Everything Everywhere All at Once  (2022): A genre-bending film with martial arts sequences that are both quirky and deeply grounded. As we continue to navigate the 2020s, martial arts cinema is embracing the future, influenced by both digital platforms and the ongoing quest for more diverse, global storytelling. The Journey Continues The evolution of martial arts movies has come a long way, but it’s far from over. With technology continuing to improve and new talent constantly emerging, we’re bound to see even more groundbreaking martial arts films in the future.  Whether it’s through Hollywood blockbusters or indie action films, one thing is certain: the martial arts genre will keep evolving, keeping audiences on the edge of their seats for years to come.

On my way to California’s Central Coast to interview a 57-year-old male martial artist who paints his toenails, I got bogged down in construction traffic, which gave me no nutritional option but to eat the only thing I could scavenge from my glove box: an energy bar that boasted “protein from real crickets.” That should have steeled me for anything that was about to come, but it didn’t. Once I pulled into The Pit, John Hackleman’s dojo in Arroyo Grande, and started chatting with the gruff martial artist — who happens to be a registered nurse — my incredulity grew so much that if my mind had a jaw, it would have been hanging like that of a kid watching his first Bruce Lee movie. Before I left, I'd reached what for me is a rare realization: If I lived closer to The Pit, I’d sign up for lessons. "Bite him like a dog - a dog that wants to stay alive!" Those simple words, spoken during the explanation of a self-defense technique, sum up the no-fangs-barred fighting philosophy of John Hackleman, former kajukenbo student and current master of Hawaiian kempo. The fight-dirty manifesto is unexpected coming from the mouth of the man who coached UFC standout Chuck Liddell to play fair in the cage. In effect, the words illustrate the sport-vs.-street dichotomy that has been John Hackleman’s life. LIVE CLEAN Hackleman was born in New York but moved to Hawaii when he was 4. Within a few years, the storm clouds started gathering in paradise. “I knew there were a lot of fights going on, and I knew I'd be in a lot of them since I was white and had long blond hair,” he said. His pre-emptive action? Whip out the Yellow Pages and find a martial arts school. The youth’s attention gravitated to an intimidating photo of Walter Godin. “He was one of the toughest guys on the island, although I didn’t know it at the time, and a master of kajukenbo, a street-fighting art from Hawaii,” Hackleman explained. “I went down and talked to him. He said he’d been in and out of prison, but that didn’t matter to me. “He said it would cost $20 a month to train with him, so I went home and told my mom I needed a check for $20. That was the only check I ever gave him. I never paid again, and he was my sensei from 1970 until he died in 2001.” Godin conveyed to the youngster what would become the cornerstones of his fighting philosophy. “He taught me so much and shaped my personality,” Hackleman said. “I wanted to be just like him — except for the bad stuff, of course, but I knew the difference because I had a pretty good moral compass from having been brought up right by my parents.” The boy desperately wanted to be respected like Godin was, and when it came to school bullies, he figured being feared a little would be nice, too. “So I started hanging out with Walter Godin,” Hackleman said. “He didn’t push me to do any of the things that had gotten him in trouble. What he did do was teach me the art of kajukenbo.” TRAIN HARD Soon after he had a grasp of the basics, Hackleman started fighting in local karate tournaments. “I liked competition, but I didn’t like all the rules I had to follow,” he said. “When I was a little older, I pulled my hamstring while training. I told Godin what had happened, and because he was very pragmatic and I was a kicker, he said, ‘Go to a boxing gym and train until your hamstring is better.’” The sensei set things up for his charge. “I went down to a ghetto boxing gym in the middle of a housing project,” Hackleman recalled. “Before I knew it, I was scheduled to fight in the Police Athletic League. It was like the mini-Golden Gloves; they called it the Silver Gloves. And I discovered that I liked it.” By the time his hamstring was healed, Hackleman had acquired an arsenal of hand skills from the pugilists. “When I went back to my sensei, I was a different guy,” he said. “I wasn’t just a kicker anymore. I wanted to punch and brawl in sparring matches. Godin loved it.” Even after his leg had returned to 100 percent, Hackleman stayed the course, eventually developing formidable hands. “I went all the way to Golden Gloves and won that in my state,” he said. “When kickboxing came around, I fought in that, too. Then in 1975, they had the World Series of Martial Arts in Hawaii. It was anything goes. I was 16, but I lied about my age and entered — and wound up beating an adult with an elbow strike. Back then, I'd fight in any genre that came around. Mainly, though, it was boxing and kickboxing.” Hackleman never abandoned his kajukenbo, however. He put in a solid 10 years under Godin’s wing until patriotism inspired him to change course. “The Iran hostage situation started in 1979,” he said. “I thought we were going to war, so I enlisted in the infantry. That’s where I needed to be because my dad was a West Point graduate, and he was infantry.” As luck would have it, Hackleman’s first duty station was Honolulu’s Schofield Barracks, practically in his own backyard. Then Ronald Reagan was sworn in, and Iran promptly released the hostages. In a way, Hackleman felt like the air had been let out of his balloon. “I went to my first sergeant and said, ‘I joined because I thought there was going to be a war, but there’s not. I don’t want to hang out here for another three years,’” Hackleman recalled. “And he was like, ‘Well, you signed up for it … but you're John Hackleman, aren't you?' The first sergeant happened to be from Hawaii and knew I’d won the Golden Gloves. Then he said, ‘I've seen you fight — why don't you join the Army Boxing Team?’” Hackleman scored a tryout, courtesy of that first sergeant, and he won a spot on the team. For the remainder of his enlistment, all he did was box. “I can honestly say I fought for my country and bled for my country.” (laughs) On a more serious note, his military service no doubt helped him polish the hand skills that would take him to the top of the martial arts world. It also paved the way for a post-Army stint not only as a pro boxer but also as a kickboxer. “I hit really hard and won a couple of titles, but I wasn’t at the top of boxing,” Hackleman said. “I did make it to the top of kickboxing and won world titles, but back then, you didn’t have to be that great [because it was such a young sport]. The competition just wasn’t there. I enjoyed competing, but martial arts was still my passion.” FIGHT DIRTY When Hackl­eman’s enlist­ment ended, he yearned to return to his passion. “But I couldn’t teach martial arts and call it kajukenbo because I didn’t want to do the kajukenbo forms,” he said. “So I changed the name to Hawaiian kempo — with an ‘m.’ I was free to get rid of the kata. I took out other things I thought were ineffective and added things from my own experience as well as things I learned from other arts. Yes, I stole a lot of stuff. I’ve also had a lot of stuff stolen from me. It’s a com­mon thing in martial arts.” One of the first skill sets Hackleman grafted onto the Hawaiian-kempo curriculum was takedown defense. “I did that even though a lot of stand-up guys thought it was a waste of time,” he said. “‘Just punch him!’ they used to say, but I knew that wouldn’t work all the time. I disagreed with them because I’d fought with guys who just took me down like that!” (snaps fingers) His takedown-defense methodology, now a hallmark of Hawaiian kempo, grew out of his experience on the street, as well as his interpretation of what other masters like Brazilian jiu-jitsu’s Ricardo Liborio and Mario Sperry had shown him.  “I really focused on the importance of the hips and lateral movement,” Hackleman said. “The takedown defense I developed worked very well for me and my stu­dents.” It still plays a vital role in his system because it’s essential to surviving on the street, he added. To take his ideas to the masses, Hackleman moved to Southern California in 1985 and began teaching the four pillars of Hawaiian kempo — striking, wrestling, jiu-jitsu and conditioning — in his backyard. A year later, he founded The Pit. In 1991 he relocated to Arroyo Grande and once again was forced to spread his fight gospel in his backyard. “And then came Chuck,” he said. Chuck Liddell was young and in the mood to throw down. Knowing a good thing when he saw it, he hooked up with Hackleman, and together they fine-tuned his game. Once Lid­dell was entrenched in The Pit, other fighters followed. Once Liddell began winning, the backyard dojo quickly reached capacity. “We became known as an MMA gym,” Hackleman said, “but basically I just wanted to teach people martial arts.” That realization and his burgeoning success with the MMA crowd prompted Hackleman to abandon the backyard opera­tion and open a real gym that was large enough to cater to more than just fighters. “I wanted to make teaching martial arts my full-time job,” he said. “It took off, and I didn’t have to work as a nurse anymore. I’m not rich by any means, but I have a pretty good life and I’ll have a pretty good retirement. Most important, I’m happy doing what I love.” One of the keys to Hackleman's suc­cess has been the message that dirty fighting reduces the need to learn a defense for every possible attack. “You don't have to become proficient at escaping from a lot of grappling holds because of biting and gouging,” he explained. “Say someone clinches with you. You don’t have to know a defense against that because you can just stick your finger in his eye. If he gets you in side control or the mount, all you have to do is break your posture and bite him anywhere. He’ll let go.” The big exception to that rule is the rear-naked choke, he added. “You can’t bite your way out of this one. Once he gets it on, you're done. So we do learn a few specific escapes. Similarly, if someone comes at you with a running double and manages to slam your head into the ground, you’re not getting out of it. Which is why you have to be able to defend against a takedown.” DON’T LET ANYONE TAKE YOUR LUNCH MONEY The modern Pit curriculum, as John Hackleman envisions it, has two parts: the kids’ component and the adults’ com­ponent.  “For kids, the No. 1 thing is confidence,” he said. “That’s developed through physically training in martial arts, not through talking about confidence. Part of it is knowing they can get a bully off them if they wind up on the bottom in a fight at school. We teach them never to bully, of course, but also never to be bullied.” It’s essential for those who teach youngsters to remember that if a bully jumps a kid at school, you don’t want that kid gouging out the bully’s eyes, he said. “You also don’t want him pounding the bully’s head on the concrete. In the schoolyard, fights are usually over once the bully gets hit or taken down. “It’s all about dominance. If kids are more dominant on the playground, they don’t get picked on. They don’t have to strut around, but they do have to be dominant enough to keep bullies away.” Adults need no-holds-barred physical skills in addition to the ability to exhibit confidence. “There's no dominance on the street; there's life or death;' he said. "When someone jumps you, it's not because they're bullying you and trying to take your lunch money. It's because they're trying to kill you." That harsh reality necessitates a harsh response, Hackleman said. "You need to separate them from their consciousness. If that means knocking them unconscious so you can get away, fine. If it means killing them, so be it. If you think they're not trying to kill you so you don't really have to fight back, your adrenaline will never respond the way it has to. Then they might get in that one punch, and you might fall and have your head bounce off the concrete. There's no referee - so they soccer-kick you until you're brain-damaged or dead." Despite the different teaching modalities, he repeats the same catchphrase with his kids, his adult students and his fighters: "I tell them, 'Don't let anyone take your lunch money.' It goes back to my roots growing up in Hawaii. We used to get a quarter for lunch, and there were kids who would come up to us and say, 'Hey, haole, give me your lunch money!' One of the reasons I started martial arts training was I didn't want anybody to take my lunch money. "Now it's a metaphor for kids not letting anyone bully them. It's also for adults to remind them to not let anyone hurt them. In a relationship, it means don't let the other person take advantage of you. In the cage, it means don't let your opponent take your title or ranking." Living clean, training hard, fighting dirty and not letting anyone take your lunch money is the theme that permeates all the training that takes place at The Pit. It's also the philosophy that guides John Hackleman and his students in life. Photography by Cory Sorensen

So this guy is standing 6 feet in front of me.  He’s got his right hand behind his back, and he’s saying he wants to f@%* me up. It’s midnight on a sidewalk in Hawaii with no one around except my buddy, who’s occupied with the two other people in the pickup truck the man was in. In the dim street light, I can barely make out the handle of a kitchen knife protruding from the right side of the man who’s confronting me. It seemed like the perfect time to let loose a front kick — but I couldn’t do anything at that moment. I was a fairly accomplished martial artist, so what was my problem? Too many options were running through my head, and it locked me up. I couldn’t decide what would work best, when to do it and what to follow up with if it didn’t get immediate results. That’s when I realized I was the kind of guy who needs simplicity. That led me to krav maga. SIMPLICITY, IN MOTION In krav maga, instructors try to keep things simple because they assume their students have limited training time. So they pare down the defenses to the lowest number of techniques that will enable a person to solve the widest range of problems. Krav’s kicks are no exception. Because kicks by themselves take away our ability to move in the moment and inherently compromise balance, our goal is to reduce the time we spend on one leg while delivering maximum damage or stopping power — and doing this in a manner that enables the average person with limited training time to learn quickly and execute easily. In krav, we categorize kicks into two groups: defensive  and offensive . Defensive kicks are those that put our full leg between us and the attacker on impact. They’re designed to maintain or create distance between the two parties. An offensive kick is any kick that doesn’t do that. The krav front kick is broken down according to three goals: Damaging a horizontal target Damaging a vertical target Creating or maintaining space between defender and attacker The resulting three moves are called different things by different people, but in general they’re known by descriptive names: the regular front kick, the ball-of-the-foot front kick , and the defensive front kick . REGULAR FRONT KICK This technique is sometimes mistakenly called a groin kick . It’s the kick a lot of people think of when you mention krav maga because the system is billed as no-rules self-defense. So that image of someone being kicked in the groin may drive home the point, but the move is far more than a groin kick. The kick uses the shinbone  — generally, between just above the ankle and halfway to the knee. Go any higher, and you’ll turn it into a knee strike. The groin is a great target for the regular front kick but not the only target. In fact, it’s good for any horizontal body part. Imagine that your attacker is bent over in front of you in a perpendicular orientation. This is the perfect technique to slam into his face. ACTION: To deliver this front kick, start by moving your knee upward and forward. To get your knee moving forward, you’ll have to drive your hips (note the plural) forward, and that’s exactly what you want. Just make sure your hips don’t initiate the movement, which will telegraph the technique. As you do this, your knee should bend to approximately 90 degrees. Take care that your foot doesn’t travel backward, away from the target. (Envision the foot trailing the knee slightly in the initial movement.) As your knee approaches the target’s height, explosively extend your leg . Note that the knee never holds that 90-degree bend. Rather, it hits that angle and begins its unbending immediately. Point your foot forward while extending your leg to expose your shinbone better and to emphasize your hip driving forward. Continue to drive your knee so it passes the target height, which ensures that your bodyweight goes through the target. Think of your knee as the last hinge in the weapon system: If the hinge stops opening before the target is reached, or even at the same height, the mass on the back side of the hinge stops there, too. For that reason, it won’t transfer all its energy into the target. Because your hips are driving forward, it might appear like you’re leaning backward, but you shouldn’t lean away. The fact that both your hips are extended forward just gives the illusion of bending backward. Your upper body should stay very much over your base leg. The final step, as in all krav kicks, is to recover your stance . The most common practice is to simply put your foot down where the fight dictates it should be. That’s logical because what you do next is mostly determined by the attacker’s reaction to your kick. Putting down your foot in front effectively advances you into the fight, while placing it back where it started puts you at long range, which offers different options. In most cases, you’ll put it down somewhere in between with a small adjustment step that gets you into a good stance, which will allow an immediate follow-up strike or set you up for a fast escape. BALL-OF-THE-FOOT FRONT KICK Also known as the vertical-target kick, this technique is similar to a muay Thai kick known as the teep. It’s designed to penetrate rather than stop an opponent’s forward movement. (Although, a well-executed kick can indeed accomplish that.) Just as the name states, its aim is to make contact using the ball of the foot. When landing it, you’ll want to point your foot forward and pull your toes backward. The targets for this front kick are the vertical surfaces of your opponent’s body. When you’re face to face, prime examples include the front of the groin and the abdomen. It’s easy to make the liver a target, or the kidneys, if your attacker isn’t facing you. As always, the head can be a target, assuming it’s been lowered to a reasonable height so kicking it doesn’t compromise your balance or cross the threshold of where a hand technique would be preferred. This front kick develops almost exactly as the regular front kick does. It’s intentional. Krav maga practitioners appreciate the freedom to start a regular front kick and quickly morph it into a ball-of-the-foot front kick if the target changes mid-delivery. ACTION: As in the previous kick, start by raising your knee and moving it forward — make sure you’re using your hips for power. This time, however, create a slightly greater knee-bend angle and hold it a little longer because your goal is to effect a more linear, horizontal projection. As your knee reaches target height, drive your foot forward. Your knee will get a little higher than the target, but it will come back down to line up between your hip and the target on impact. Just before that impact, “punch” both hips forward, driving your bodyweight into the kick. In this move, real power depends on timing more than anything else. To visualize the trajectory and angles involved, think about how you’d shut a car door with your foot. The foot comes up, but ultimately the trajectory flattens on contact. You want all the energy and mass thrusting forward at the moment of impact, as opposed to still moving upward. Recovery is the same as with the regular front kick, but it’s more likely there will be a slight advance, and because much of your energy is moving forward, you may have to advance after the kick to follow up anyway. A well-placed ball-of-the-foot kick can bend an attacker in half at the waist, often causing him to stop moving forward with his lower body. Just be aware that his upper body might still be moving forward. This can have serious consequences, especially if he has a knife. In any case, you should plan for anything and be able to adjust quickly to deliver a follow-up or make an exit. DEFENSIVE FRONT KICK This kick is primarily designed to create space — or maintain space if the target is moving forward. To see a great example of the technique, search online for “this is Sparta kick” from the movie 300 . The clip shows a very strong kick with lots of mass behind it, but because it’s a higher kick, it takes longer to develop, which increases the chance your foe will defend against it or move. Of course, the higher the kick, the more your balance is compromised, as well. Because this is primarily a “stopping” defensive kick, you want as much surface area as possible making contact. That means you need to angle your foot back in an attempt to land the entire sole on target. If you hit with the ball of your foot, you might lose some energy when your ankle acts as a shock absorber. Although technically you'd be fine just making contact with your heel, more is better. Think of trying to move a balloon with a pin versus with your hand. The pin will penetrate the balloon, while your hand will move it. For maximum effect, this kick should make contact between the base of the ribs and the suprasternal notch. Remember that you're trying to move someone backward or at least stop his forward momentum. Landing this kick at hip height may stop his legs from moving forward, but his upper body will still be in motion. Kicking above his midpoint hinge will have a better and more immediate result. If you can get his upper body to suddenly move behind his heels, you'll create even more space and time, especially if he stumbles backward or falls. Raise your flexed knee — the higher the knee, the higher the kick. Unlike in the previous two kicks, hold this bent, or chambered, position longer to allow for the higher lift. Start unbending your leg and pulling back your foot. This is when you should begin thrusting both hips forward in a stomping movement. Envision your foot hitting the target at the same time your hips, and therefore your bodyweight, reach the apex of their movement. With this kick, it's OK if your base foot pivots slightly to increase the flexion in your legs, allowing more height for the technique. Note that this will send your kicking hip farther forward, as well, thus slightly increasing your range. As before, your hips will be far enough forward on impact that from a profile position, it might look like you're bending backward. However, this shouldn't be the case. Your upper body should still be a counterbalance and in a good relationship with your base leg, allowing for a kick recovery in any direction. It also will help you avoid being bounced backward by the attacker's momentum. NEXT STEP With these three basic, yet versatile, techniques in your arsenal, you can increase the number of targets that are available to your foot strikes in most self-defense situations. No matter which one you select, be sure to get your kicking foot back on the ground as quickly as possible so you can move or strike immediately. And remember that a kick should always be part of a comprehensive combination that overwhelms your attacker and keeps him on the defensive. Oh, yeah, the guy with the knife in Hawaii? Well, as luck would have it, I didn't need to use any of these front kicks. At the last moment, a police officer cruised by and slowed down to see what was going on. As soon as he hit his lights, the perp bolted. He was caught ditching the knife and eventually went to jail.

Tony Jaa is the undisputed king of heart-stopping, jaw-dropping, next-level fight scenes. With his insane Thai-style fighting skills and gravity-defying stunts, Jaa has redefined what action can be in the 21st century. His fight scenes don’t just entertain—they leave you wondering, “Did he just do that?” Let’s break down Tony Jaa’s most legendary moments on screen—because every second of his career is a masterclass in martial arts cinema. 1. The Elephant Fight – Ong-Bak: Muay Thai Warrior  (2003) Let’s kick things off with the  scene that launched Tony Jaa into action superstardom. In Ong-Bak , Jaa takes on a group of bad guys using the power of Muay Thai and raw athleticism. But the real wow  moment? When he climbs an elephant and unleashes a series of devastating strikes from atop its back. It's a perfect mix of brutal choreography, animal-assisted combat, and sheer audacity. Why It’s Legendary: It’s both animal-powered and human-powered action. You don’t just see a fight scene; you feel the energy in every punch and kick. 2. The Warehouse Showdown – The Protector  (2005) This is the fight scene that most defines Tony Jaa’s reputation as an action superstar. In a single, mind-blowing, unbroken shot, he takes on a huge group of armed thugs in a narrow warehouse space, using everything to destroy anyone in his path. The choreography is so clean, the action so fast, you’ll think Jaa has superpowers.  Why It’s Legendary:   The continuous, uncut fight sequence is a technical marvel, showcasing Tony’s ability to blend intense combat with a seamless cinematic flow. 3. The Staircase Fight – The Protector  (2005) If the warehouse showdown wasn’t enough, Tony Jaa takes his fight scenes to the next level in The Protector ’s staircase brawl. Armed with nothing but his fists and his willpower, he battles his way up an entire flight of stairs against a seemingly endless stream of enemies, displaying Muay Thai like you’ve never seen before. Why It’s Legendary:  It’s the ultimate test of stamina, strength, and skill—a hero climbing his way to victory in the most literal sense. 4. The Roof Top Chase – Ong-Bak 2  (2008) Jaa’s agility and acrobatics take center stage in Ong-Bak 2 , where he chases down enemies across rooftops. The scene is a perfect blend of traditional fighting with parkour-like leaps, spins, and rolls. It's a fast-paced, action-packed moment that feels like you're part of the chase. Why It’s Legendary:   The choreography mixes martial arts with urban agility, making it one of the most dynamic action sequences of its time. 5. The Showdown – The Protector 2  (2013) One of the most electrifying moments in The Protector 2  is Tony Jaa's intense showdown with Marrese Crump. The fight is a high-octane exchange that blends Jaa’s precision Muay Thai with Crump’s powerful techniques. What makes this battle so gripping is the relentless pace and the physicality of both fighters as they push each other to the limit in a brutal back-and-forth. Why It’s Legendary:   It’s a clash of titans, with two expert martial arts forces leaving audiences on the edge of their seats as they witness a fight that feels as real as it is spectacular.

Jackie Chan is a walking, flipping, falling miracle  of modern cinema. While most actors leave danger to the stunt team, Jackie is  the stunt team. With a staggering list of injuries that includes a cracked skull, broken vertebrae, dislocated pelvis, and more, Jackie has definitely earned his status as a legend. Here are five of his most insane stunts—ranked by how much they made us scream, “How is he even alive?” 5. Bus Hang – Police Story (1985)  Jackie jumps onto a moving double-decker bus using nothing but an umbrella. He then hangs on  as it barrels down the road. Just sheer grit and grip strength. Classic Jackie. 4. Clock Tower Fall – Project A (1983)  An homage to silent film legends like Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton, Jackie falls from the top of a clock tower. He crashes through awnings on the way down, slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. 3. Helicopter Jump – Police Story 3: Supercop  (1992)   Chan leaps onto a rope ladder hanging from a flying helicopter, which then soars over the streets of Kuala Lumpur. Just good ol’ Jackie dangling hundreds of feet in the air while the wind beats him like a rag doll. This is Supercop , but Jackie was the real superhero. 2. Pole Slide – Police Story (1985)  Yes, we’re back to Police Story —and for good reason. This time, Jackie Chan slid down a pole covered in live electrical lights, which exploded on contact as he passed. With no time for rehearsals and no safety wires, the stunt was performed raw. The result? Shattered vertebrae, second-degree burns on his hands, and a dislocated pelvis from the impact. But in classic Jackie Chan fashion, the show didn’t stop. He finished Police Story  while pulling double duty: filming Heart of Dragon  with Sammo Hung by day and returning to the insane action of Police Story  at night. 1. Skull Fracture – Armour of God (1986) This wasn’t just the stunt that nearly ended Jackie Chan’s career—it almost ended his life. The setup seemed simple enough (for Jackie, anyway): leap from a wall onto a tree branch. But on the second take, the branch snapped. Jackie fell headfirst onto a rock, fracturing his skull and requiring emergency brain surgery. Miraculously, he survived—and in true Jackie Chan fashion, he was back on set just seven days later to finish Armour of God . Jackie Chan didn’t just raise the bar for action stunts in cinema—he jumped off  it, usually headfirst. These weren’t just death-defying; they were death- taunting . And somehow, he keeps bouncing back for more.

Martial artists can learn a lot from people who have mastered different realms of combat because often the principles and tactics they use can be adapted to what we do. Case in point:  Oswald Boelcke. This German flying ace was one of the top innovators and instructors in the Axis air force during World War I. Among his many accomplishments, Boelcke chose a young Baron Manfred von Richthofen to become his pupil and coached him to an astonishing string of air victories. Von Richthofen is better known as the Red Baron. Boelcke flew at a time when pilots of both the Axis and Allied powers still considered themselves “knights of the air.” They demonstrated a curious kind of chivalry that often entailed showing courtesy to the opposition. Stories abound of pilots who found that their primitive machine guns had jammed in the middle of a dogfight, only to receive a salute from their adversary as he opted to fly away rather than engage a defenseless opponent for an easy kill. It was not uncommon for an “enemy” to do a flyover during the funeral of a respected airman of the other side, sometimes dropping gifts with notes of respect for the prowess of the fallen. Different times, indeed. One aspect of Boelcke’s makeup was that he relished flying alone but also believed that flying as a team was integral to success. This vaunted pilot, of whom the Red Baron once said, “He shot one or two Englishmen for breakfast every day,” was asked by his superiors to compile a set of guidelines for young aviators. Known as Boelcke’s Dicta , it's composed of eight commandments, which I present below along with my martial arts comments. ONE:  Try to secure advantages before attacking. If possible, keep the sun behind you.That’s sound advice in the air or on the ground. Furthermore, what martial arts instructor doesn’t preach that training, study and knowledge of the environment is key? To go into a fight without this awareness — the proverbial act of “flying blind” — is a recipe for disaster no matter where the combat takes place. TWO:  Always carry through an attack once you’ve started it.We hear the same notion echoed in the old boxing maxim “A half a punch is worse than no punch at all.” What Boelcke and boxing trainers are telling us is if we make an effort, we must make that effort with utter integrity (feinting aside) so we don’t waste energy or provide our opponent with an opportunity to counter by virtue of our timid attack. THREE:  Fire only at close range and only when your opponent is properly in your sights.Well said! What’s the point of throwing that leg kick if you can’t even reach your opponent with a jab? Why shoot in if you can’t touch? Why waste the energy? Boelcke is right — we must know our range well. FOUR:  Always keep your eyes on your opponent, and never let yourself be deceived by ruses. No need to add anything here. FIVE:  In any form of attack, it’s essential to assail your opponent from behind. In our world on terra firma, that commandment sounds like it’s extolling the virtues of using angles if you’re on your feet. On the ground, it reminds us of the importance of getting our opponent’s back. SIX:  If your opponent dives on you, do not try to evade his onslaught, but fly to meet it.This may not be as useful to our game as redirection of force and evasion are, but it still should be part of our defensive strategy. SEVEN:  When over the enemy’s lines, never forget your own line of retreat.Those who are into combatives can smell the wisdom here: Always know where the exits are. Those who are into MMA will say this sounds very much like ring generalship: Know where the turnbuckles are, know where you are in relation to the cage and so on. EIGHT:  Attack on principle in groups of four to six. When the fight breaks up into a series of single combats, take care that several do not go for one opponent.If a match is underway in a ring, we can interpret the first portion of Boelcke’s advice to advocate “punches in bunches” or other combinations. If the altercation is unfolding on the street, we should recognize that there’s strength in numbers. If we’re forced into solo combat, we must know that our opponents will likely remember this eighth commandment and attempt to “return to strength.”

There's something powerfully intimidating about a traditional dojo. It looks like nothing we have in the West. What is intimidating is the emptiness of it all. There’s nothing to distract, nothing to divert one’s attention. The emptiness, severe and silent, can work on the mind. This emptiness is deliberate. Life is full of distractions. Many of them serve to keep us from looking into ourselves, a process that can be uncomfortable. We can distract ourselves with video games, sports and entertainment of all sorts. The budo can be distractions, as well, if we dress them up with unnecessary stuff. Instead of that quiet, utterly simple space, the dojo can turn into a carnival of distractions. Then, too, there are those additions to the dojo that are well-meant, that are supposed to make it look more “authentic” but that are really inappropriate. Here are a few examples. The Torii Sometimes, the front wall of the dojo is decorated with a torii, a familiar part of Shinto shrine architecture. A torii is a “gate,” a pair of horizontal lintels stretched across a couple of upright posts. One usually stands at the entrance to a shrine or somewhere on its grounds. It signifies that you're passing through a barrier, a transition into an area that’s sacred or special. In some dojo, a torii is built against the front wall, meant to frame the kamiza, or altar. But if it’s against the wall, it’s no longer a gate. You can’t pass through it. In this context, it makes no sense. Further, “dojo” is originally a Buddhist term for a part of a temple. Yes, the boundaries between Shinto and Buddhism are vague — a dojo typically has that Shinto-based kamiza at its front — but a torii in a dojo is a weird combination, one virtually never seen in Japan. Fountains Fountains are another dojo distraction one sees frequently. Gurgling fountains, with water pumped over rocks and sometimes with plants arranged nearby, are found in many a dojo corner. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s because running water is somehow associated, in the Western mind, with the Asian affinity for nature. Maybe it’s a nod toward Taoist thought. Maybe it’s supposed to have a calming, meditative effect. Again, the intention may be good, but fountains and other decorative garden art don’t have any place in a dojo. If the property has room for a garden outside, that’s nice. Within the dojo? Limit the fountains to the drinking kind. Buddhist Statuary Buddhist statuary also shows up in some dojo. Replicas of the Buddha statue at Kamakura, Japan — seated in a cross-legged position, hands in his lap — seem to be a particular favorite. Buddhism has a deep relationship with Japanese martial arts. Most classical koryu arts have strong ties to specific Buddhist deities. It’s not uncommon to see, usually depicted on scrolls that hang in the alcove, images of them. Marishiten, the goddess of the Pole Star, is a common Buddhist deity associated with the traditional arts. However, the connection between modern budo like karate and Buddhism is pretty thin. No matter how deep my devotion to Christianity might be, I wouldn’t have a cross in my dojo. Most sincere Buddhists would feel the same about statues of the Buddha. Kakemono Kakemono, or hanging scrolls, are a common feature of dojo space. They’re usually calligraphic, something brushed by the art’s founder or a senior teacher. The characters may be nothing but the name of the art. Or they might express a fundamental principle. These have value — in addition to the fact that they’re a personal connection with a teacher or a master — in that they express a unifying concept of that art. As such, they’re appropriate. What is not appropriate is some scroll that’s generic or mass-produced and that has no specific connection to your art or lineage. Trophies Trophies. OK, I’ll give you this one. If you want to display a shelf of trophies collectively won by your dojo, fine. I have to wonder why, however. The average person who walks into your place — and if you’re a dojo owner, you should never forget this — is motivated by fear. He has come there because he’s afraid of violence and worried about his ability to meet it. He wants a solution to that fear, a way to address it. He does not come because he wants to be a champion or win contests. For many people, the rows of trophies they see walking into a dojo for the first time is intimidating. “Gee, if the people here are that tough and skilled, is there really any place for me?” they might wonder. Dragons and Other Décor Next are dragons. Yes, they look cool. No, they don’t belong in the dojo. Neither do those smiling, waving little cat statues — or tigers, cobras, “Sumo cat” posters or other supposedly Asian things like gongs, rattan furniture and “Zen pillows.” They make the space look less like a dojo and more like a corner of a Pier 1 store. There’s a starkness to the traditional dojo. It seems empty. It’s not. The need to fill it is natural, but you should avoid it. Go to the dojo not for the distractions. Go to look deeply into yourself.

Blades of the Guardians  is drawing attention from longtime wuxia fans and modern action audiences alike. The film is adapted from the Chinese manhua Biao Ren , a series known for its grounded tone and historically inspired violence rather than fantasy-driven spectacle. Set during the final years of the Sui Dynasty, the story centers on a professional escort tasked with delivering a mysterious passenger across dangerous territory toward Chang’an. The setup places the characters in constant motion, allowing the narrative to unfold through encounters, shifting alliances, and escalating conflict along the road. The film is directed by Yuen Woo-ping , whose influence on martial arts cinema spans decades, from traditional kung fu films to modern international productions. Remember The Matrix ? He helped make that happen. Leading the cast is Wu Jing , joined by a lineup that includes heavy-hitters such as Jet Li , Nicholas Tse , Zhang Jin , and Kara Wai —a combination that has drawn attention from both martial arts practitioners and longtime fans of the genre. Rather than focusing on supernatural abilities, Blades of the Guardians  draws from historical wuxia traditions, emphasizing weapons work, martial arts movement, and the realities of travel and conflict in a volatile era. For martial artists, the film represents a continuation of a long lineage of Chinese action cinema rooted in skill, discipline, and survival. Blades of the Guardians is out NOW in theaters!