Aikido is often derided as being too passive to be called a martial art, and about that effective; the angle on that being that many aiki stylists push their 'nonviolent' path as a selling point. But here's the new local angle, as opened to the class's eye today: it's not that aikido is passive or nonviolent, but rather that it doesn't give the opponent anything to fight against. Now, to clarify. If a clinch or grapple occurs, the natural reflex is to tense up, to keep from getting thrown, brace for blows, &c. But aikido training focuses on staying relaxed - except for the moments when tenseness is needed - and flowing with what happens, or to put another way, accepting what the opponent does without second-guessing and blending to be part of it, to be a bit more zen about it. If an opponent tenses up before striking - they're nixed, they telegraphed. If an opponent tenses up, like the built-like-a-fireplug weightlifter the other day who lived in a state of perpetually flexed muscles, they get picked up and thrown in a feather-like manner. Except they hit the groud harder. That's also not to say that an aiki stylist has to be passive and wait to be attacked, as they are sometimes denigrated for; part of the training is exploding into movement for an opportunity that arises, and linking into jujitsu principles of flow between techniques. The trick is, developing that kind of mental/physical state means a lot of neuromusculature has to be rewired, to break old and make new reflexes.
      Which brings us to our (old) new friend - repetition! The Tucson Ko Sho dojos seem to have gotten into an odd place. We were teaching techniques, and lots of them, but only to the point where we would just get the idea of them. So we'd have a plethora of techniques, but not amazing skill in any particular area, unless we individually worked at it. But now we're getting back to old-school repeat everything a hundred times, and then a hundred more, damnit. Practice makes perfect after all, I suppose.
      The other thing that we've been incorporating specifically into the jujitsu classes on the east side is (what we call anyway) Session. It's kind of like sticky hands/chi sao, but there's no requirement to maintain contact between limbs. The targets (with any kind of upperbody strike, though usually no contact for elbows) are the side of the head and the torso. The strikes are almost secondary, however, to flowing into joint locks or manipulations, which is where the real difference from sticky hands is; upping the ante means attempting to chamber throws. That being said, at a basic level Session just means both people in firm horse stance - any large movement from that to create distance turns it into striking-sparring. With more joint locks small angling steps and foot replacement come into play, but usually no kicks, as that isn't the real point of it.

A Hunger Like Fire, by Greg Stolze. They're back, baby. White Wolf Publishing was starting to get a little to cornball for even me to get into, or rather away from anything that could be called horror, but after a suitably apocalyptic ending to their old lines - voila! And by horror I don't exactly mean modern slashcore, as it were, but something more approximate to gothic horror in a contemporary setting - cell phones and AIDS and all (with a delightful twist around focus on moral conundrums and consequences). The story for the most part seems to be an oblique introduction of Persephone Moore, a character who as far as I can tell will probably appear in more novels; in that, it rotates through the main characters' perspectives, each perspective subtly distinguished from the others, and opening up a wholly different chunk of backstory at a time. Unfortunately, however, there is a wealth of characters to keep track of, which is a bit daunting at first before they are each fleshed out and as the byzantine manipulatons develop. That's a minor issue, however, compared with character development based on what their perspective brings to the story and the moral choices they face and make.

-I can't figure out whether twinkie sushi is gross or not; which of course means I'll have to try it (via Scott)