Tuesday Sep 20, 2005

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You know what's fucking rad? Sweeping your kitchen floor with a vacuum. That is rad.

You know what else is fucking rad? Sophie. She is one of the kindest deepest people I've met, and she continually surprises me with her capacities and abilities. The last three months I've been a little . . . giddy . . . at finally finding someone to be with that can truly hang. I've never wanted or received more, and Jah guide I-love. I pray that I am made worthy of this blessing in my life.

You know what else is fucking rad? DC2020. He is a quality guy, a hell of a chef, and a fine, fine individual. I know you've all heard stuffI think we've all heard the rumors about how DC2020 is bringing Suicide Girls down, and how he is secretly behind the scenes getting rich and funneling money to South American right-wing death squads and shipping off the "inactive" models to Chinese triad gangsters, and yeah . . . it's all true, but it doesn't take away from the fact that he's a good guy to have your back, whether you're in a troubled frame of mind or a street fight (and I've had him in both). I am the lucky to have him. His mommy and daddy did a great job.

You know what else is fucking rad? That Damien Marley has a track on Welcome to Jamrock featuring Bobby Brown. Of course, it's a love song. Hahahaha, fuck yes. I hope Bobby gets it together, the last decade has been awfully tough on him. I wonder if he ever tries to tell Whitney that "it's my prerogative, bitchI made this money, you didn't." Because while I bet he smoked up his Bobby Brown money some time in the 90's, there isn't enough breath in he and his whole family's lungs to smoke up that Whitney Houston money.

You know what else is fucking rad? The archetype of resurrection. Jah Bless and keep my love.

You know what else is fucking rad? Ong Bak. I fucking love good martial arts movies, and that one is one of the best.

You know what else is fucking rad? Your mama. Aw, don't be like that. I'm just saying.

You know what else is fucking rad? Black Thought. Goddamn, he's just one of the best MCs out there, and (I realized this weekend) my favorite MC. He has the last verse in the X-ecutioners song "Live at the PJs."

You know what else is fucking rad? Knowing the guy that invented the Defensive Turtle. Wanna read about gunfighting stuff? Wroteasongaboutit hereitgo:

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

Most of you have read that Sophie and I have been training with my first martial arts instructors, Eric and his wife Stephanie. I started up with Eric in 1992 (hahah, Im old, bitches)Steph was a childhood friend and she told me about this class, and dragged me along.

At that time, Eric was retired from the Army Special Forces. Hed served in the late seventies and eighties in 7th Group SF, but had left the service. After 9/11, he got back in, and is currently serving in a reserve unit. Since I've been back in Kansas, he's claimed that hes not teaching karate. He tells us that he is "retired from training civilians," and only training soldiers and law-enforcement nowbut he keeps coming out to hang out and teach a bit here and there, and he will offer the occasional martial arts instruction, although it's decidedly more . . . martial . . . and less art. wink

A couple months back, he told us an interesting story:

Erics buddy Brad had retired from SF several years back and got a job overseeing equipment and training for the Border Patrol tactical units (BorTac). A few years back, Brad asked Eric to create and implement a ground-fighting training for themthe BorTac guys patrol alone from time to time, and a couple of guys had been physically overrun and taken to the ground. If youve ever been in a brawl, you know how much this sucks, but imagine if your opponent got a hold of your weapon!

Eric and Brad put together a system of ground-fighting and weapon retention for law-enforcement, and as part of that training they came up with an interesting fighting position (for a gun-fight): You lie on the ground on your back (in the Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu guard, if that means anything to you), and fire from there. This system has many advantages: You can see (and fire) in all directions, you present a low profile, and you can move around if you need to. Brad came up with the name for the techniquethe Defensive Turtle.

"Dragon Descends the Mountain," "The Jade Emperor Looks Down," "Spring Legs," "Dropping Satchel," "Eight Trigrams Striking," and now, "the Defensive Turtle." Hahahahaha.

The BorTac guys got it implemented, and other law-enforcement agents eventually had the training implemented on them through the BorTac guys. They trained others, and in that way the Defensive Turtle spread through Federal law-enforcement, and has now filtered down into the movies: In Chronicles of Riddick, and Collateral, characters get into gunfights and use the Defensive Turtle!

Fame! Now when you see those movies you can laugh to yourself, and know the real story.


VIEW 27 of 27 COMMENTS
eidolon:
Yesterday afternoon, I was heading into the city so that the lovely Lesley might adjust my coiff. Lovely women. All kinds of fun, but that's not the story. The story's not even really the story but, rather, the inspiration.
So, I'm headed south on Sheridan, past Loyola University toward Lakeshore Drive. I'd noticed a late red, late 80s BMW 325 in my rearview. It had an American flag draped over the hood, and had been cucking and dodging through traffic behind me for some time. At a stoplight, I look back and catch the guy behind the seat - 50ish black guy w/ glasses - taking pulls from a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag (as was the fashion at the time).
Another stoplight, and another pull. This time, after he closes the bottle, he reaches into the backseat. Why I was paying such close attention to this guy, I'm not sure, but I'm glad I was. From the backseat, he retrieves a hat with a brim - think Run DMC. This hat isn't black, no sir. This hat is red, and it appears somewhat fuzzy. I knew I had to keep an eye on this fella.
As we're winding our way toward the drive, I find him just behind me, in the next lane. I can hear the car. Sounds good. He's played with it a little, and seems to have done a nice job. Good hat. Good car. Definitely gonna keep and eye on this one.
At the next light, he pulls up next to me and shouts in my window.

'Hey man - you've got a real Cobra. Thought it might have been a GT with bodywork. Nice ride. What've you got going in there?'
Car guy. I'm so in.
'Running close to 385 right now.' I said. 'What is that an '89 you've got? Sounds real nice.'
'Yeah, thanks. It's a '90 and I've got it at about 260.'

Car talk at a red light. Fine by me. As we're shouting back and forth - geekin' out like we're supposed to - I get a good look at the guy. Normal lookng guy, but he's rockin' the fuzzy red fedora and his glasses have bright green (tree frog) frames. I knew I was talkin to the fucking man. We hit the curve that serves as the on-ramp for Lakeshore Drive and we both immediately make for the left hand lanes. If you get a good jump at them, there's long, clear road ahead. We hit it, and we hit it pretty hard. We play tag back and forth for the few miles until I have to get off. The dude could drive make that car move. No question. He may have had a few in him, but he was driving nice and tight. My car's different. Less tight. A little louder and a little more evil that actually necessary.
So we're haulin' ass without being idiots about it. No boy-racer bullshit, just knockin out a good drive.
Cleansing.
I get off at North Ave, he speeds past. We honk and I get a thumbs-up returning it with the sign of the beast. I'm off to my haircut and he's off to wherever it is that 50-something car geek guys in red fedoras and bright green glasses go at 7pm.
Immediately, I thought about our knuckle chat. Then it came to me. I love it. I could never do it, but someone should.

Middle 3 fingers on right hand, both flats between knuckles. 4 fingers + thumb on left hand. 2 lines on fingers once again.

OLD PIMPS
DIE HARD

If I see the guy again, he's getting the work, and I'm pickin up the bill.
eidolon:
That Ice-T story reminded me of something other than him beig the fucking man. I caught something on HBO a while back (probably while I was sitting on my ass for a few months with pneumonia). Over the last few years, HBO has been running various inside looks at various nooks and crannies of the sex industry. They profiled SG at one point on Real Sex and also did a mind-numbing expose on transexual hookers in Honolulu. Anyhow, one of the specials that caught my eye and had me captivated from the word 'go' was their coverage of the Pimp of the Year competition. It took place in Chicago if I remember correctly. Aside from the truly, truly impressive wardrobes on display (green for the money, gold for the honeys), the show was hosted by none other than Ice-T. He was definitely decked out in his furry finest, spoting bling that put even the coldest pimp to shame.
Who could be better?
They should have called the competition 2nd Best Pimp of the Year.
I heard at some point within the last couple of years that Body Count can be booked for something around $800 plus transportation and lodging. I think Anthrax is in that price range these days as well. Long story short, I think I'm gonna kick off next summer with the godfather of all backyard bbqs.

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