Black Belt - What's the Purpose?

Exemplifying my previously mentioned lack of interest in the concepts of authority and power, something seems to be amiss regarding the ever-popular designation of achievement in the martial arts -- the coveted black belt. I think that the problem lies in the fact that the black belt is not entirely unattractive to me... I have not properly discarded the stigmatic meaning associated with the symbol.

The problem lies within the idea of power that is attached to the black belt... no matter how many times I am told that the belt is "only the thing that holds your pants up", I will still have the idea that you are commanding a group of people to contort themselves and move en masse at the first word. The problem is not that I dislike the idea; rather, the problem is that the temptation is ever-present to abuse that "power". The concept of institutionalized control itself is the key to human arrogance and self-importance -- this is what I fight against every day. There are so many avenues that a person can use to gain access to 'status' that the idea itself becomes the goal. Indeed, getting the metaphorical "black belt" is the motivation that many people use to justify the means that they use to gain their ends. This applies to many endeavors in life, not just martial arts. Money is one of those symbols that people use to motivate themselves. In the pursuit of money, almost anything can be justified. Destruction of the environment, the virtual enslavement of those who are at an economic or educational disadvantage -- all of these things can be waved away without the slightest qualm. The problem, however, is not the money itself; the problem is the perception of the individual who is in possession of the money.

The application of this idea to martial arts is that having obtained the black belt, there is almost an expectation that the individual becomes "something other" -- he is acknowleged as having been initiated into some kind of 'club' from within which he can look at everyone else with new eyes. Starting to sound like a cult or religion, hmmm?

Having looked out at the world as someone of the 'higher order', it becomes much more difficult to learn without the interference of the ego. It is even easier to pontificate and over-represent oneself as the "keeper of the knowledge".

The operative phrase is "keeper of the knowledge".

Substitute 'order' for 'knowledge' and suddenly one becomes a maintainer of the status quo. My problem is that such a fine line is all to easy to cross. Why burden myself with that kind of negative mental chess game?

My ego is far too strong as it is, and I don't need to identify with something external to my sense of self-worth to justify my reasons for practicing martial arts. I identify with my efforts, not with the belt ranking that I hold. I need no symbols to compel me -- I know this because during my first year of college, I practiced by myself for an average of at least one hour every day, sharpening my abilities through workouts that I had created. Upon returning to the dojang, I found that the depth of my understanding had far exceeded the level that I would have obtained had I stayed at my present belt level, as I would have if I had followed the institutionalized system of belt ranking.

I value the community provided by the school, not the stratification created by its forced distinctions. Unfortunately, this kind of thinking is the type that will get a person kicked out of a martial arts school for sleeping through the black belt test... but that's another story entirely.

From the Record of Master Dongshan:


A monastic asked, "Why can't one obtain the robe and bowl when one endeavors constantly to wipe it clean? What sort of person should obtain them?"

The Master replied, "One who does not enter through the door."

"If one does not enter through the door, can they obtain them or not?" asked the monastic.

"Although it is just as I have said, it isn't the case that they do not have them," replied the Master.

Dongshan also said, "Even to say from the very beginning, 'Not a single thing exists', is similarly not a case of being worthy of obtaining the robe and bowl. Now speak, who is worthy of obtaining the robe and bowl? You should present a turning phrase right here. What turning phrase will you present?"

At that time there was a monastic who presented ninety-six turning phrases, but none was suitable. Finally he presented a phrase that satisfied the master. "Why didn't you say that earlier?" said Dongshan.

Another monastic had eavesdropped on these exchanges but had missed hearing the final turning phrase. Therefore he sought help from the first monastic, but that monastic would not agree to talk about his answer. For three years he pestered the first monastic, but in the end it still had not been explained to him.

One day when he was ill the second monastic said, "For three years I've sought to be told that turning phrase, but I've not yet benefited from your kindness. Since I've not gotten it by peaceful means I'll use violence." With that the monastic seized a knife and said, "If you don't explain it for me I'll kill you."

Wait a minute! I'll tell you," said the first monastic in terror. " Even if I were to bring them out, there would be no place to put them." The second monastic made his apologies.

I've been thinking, as I've already posted, about entering into philosophy as my major in college.

Now I'm beginning to remember why it was that I decided to go into Computer Science instead.

I Have a Major Problem With Authority.

Translation: when I write something, I expect the reader to think. Professors don't like to think when reading their pupils' papers. They just want to get the same recycled tripe that they get from every hapless student-drone, only written in a particularly fascinating way. My style of writing is something that you have to think about. That is how my mind works.

I've heard the same thing from my english professor back at that super-expensive school that I dropped out of because I couldn't afford; the same thing is what I'm getting now from my religion studies professor at this school that I've worked my bones off to put myself through... the whole "authority figure" issue comes in because both teachers knew full well that I am very intelligent and that the material covered as clearly not a cognitive stretch for me to understand... in fact my writing demonstrates that I fully appreciate the material discussed far beyond the required level of comprehension. But.

But -- my writing style is somehow offensive. So my grades suffer even though my professors know that the material is not anywhere near challenging to me. I suppose that I show that by writing circles around it. My problem is that if I begin to write the formulaic regurgitations that are required, I will be forcing my way of understanding into this preformed, headshrunk level of academic shitwork.

Professor: Show your intelligence! Show me what you know! But give it to me on my terms.
Me: If it is my understanding, how can it be according to your set of rules and regulations?
Professor: Because it is my grade to give.
Me: *silence*

I walk away, wondering if my whole life will be like this.

If my way is either too good, not good enough, too "weird", incomprehensible, etc... how can I be anything other than a plain-vanilla imitation of every other drone out there?

How can I get around this obstacle?

Rhetorical: Is there any way for one human being to objectively analyze another?

National Post: 48 Hours
June 1999

I have read, heard and to some extent thought about the question of "capitalist lifestyle". The lifestyle that I am writing about is that of opulence, arrogance and decadence. The image is that of a young man dressed in fashionable, expensive clothes, driving to clubs in expensive cars, easily surpassing the line by flashing his million-dollar smile. Once inside, he is instantly recognized by all inside; his status is undeniable. From the club to the office, he conducts himself casually, well aware of his worth. His weight in gold lies on the scales of economy in which he plys his trade with a deft ease that leaves his opponents at a disadvantage and stacks the deck in his favor every time. His only guiding commandment is worship of the almighty dollar. As long as he pronounces his undying faith in its charms, the gods of commerce reward him handsomely.

The perpetual smirk on the face of this man gives silent voice to all that reinforces his sense of self:

People in the third world are starving. So what?

My lifestyle is not centered around worshipping the all-powerful dieties that so obviously are the real governors of our collective existence. My style is get money-spend money and whoever gets screwed in the process just didn't measure up. So what?

My fellow citizens are frustrated and discontented that subservience to their tax-bracket shackles leave them relegated to a vicarious shell of the wealth that I generate with every snap of the fingers. So. What.

I have what I need and what I want. If you don't, that's your problem.

A capitalist pig, thriving at the cost of the common man? Or a man with the determination to rise above the rest and the stamina to stay on top?

I used to believe that the capitalist ideal put money before people. But since then, I have realized that for the most part, individuals put their well-being ahead of the well-being of the community.

to be continued.

Sentences Rarely Make Me Drool

From The Hedonistic Imperative:

"Trapped in the squalid psychochemical ghetto of Darwinian life, we lack the necessary wetware to conceptualise radically altered states of mind."

And the rest of the abstract is suggestive of quite an interesting future for us biological machines...