“War is a continuation of politics by other means.” Carl Von Clausewitz
I’ve encountered this question numerous times in my fighting life. Twenty years of practice spanning multiple systems, one has to ask, “Why do you fight?.” Certainly the question begs an answer. And I got one: “I don’t know.” Really. I never gave it any thought. What I can say is fighting in any situation is to take part in a kind of dialogue and, in some sense, you and I are going to talk.
If “War is a continuation of politics by other means,” then personal combat is a microcosm of war as a conversation of dialogue by other means.
Fighting is a sort of talking, like a conversation. If “War is a continuation of politics by other means,” then personal combat is a microcosm of war as a conversation of dialogue by other means. A physical arguement conducted in the language of the body. All fighting has its own vocabulary, its own grammar, syntax and regional dialects. Fighters form words by practicing their individual techniques then pull sentences together through combination strikes and submissions. Learning to talk begins through sparring until finally the conversation occurs in the fight.
Fluently speaking several languages interchangably has a special edge in Mixed Martial Arts. Not only it is complex, its threatening. Realities must be met and on your own. I personally enjoy the unrelenting threat of fighting specifically in MMA. It is violent. Certainly it is central to the excitement of fighting: you can no more fight without violence than you can play poker without real money. MMA demands your full attention; you must absolutely listen to your opponent or suffer something cruel and unpleasant. This was apparent in my last fight at Battlefield 2. I was “TKO’d” 20 seconds into the first round because I imposed my will into the fight, forcing him to fight on my terms–on the ground. As a form of poetic justice, it was my downfall. As I pulled guard my opponent landed two powerful strikes to my head forcing the referee to end the fight. Following my opponent and taking the time to understand him through the language of fighting, the result would have been different. Unlike a conversation of words there is an honesty in fighting. The message gets across in a direct and very straight-forward manner and I certainly understood it that night.
It is violent [MMA]. Certainly it is central to the excitement of fighting: you can no more fight without violence than you can play poker without real money.
Most will do anything to avoid violence, yet this business is fascinating. No one likes to be reminded about the embarrassing propensity for violence in our society and, worse, in ourselves. In my case I don’t fight. I engage in a wordless conversation. I fight with someone just as you might go for a jog with someone rather against them. Whether I win or lose makes no difference to me . There is an understanding on levels where violence is lost in the process.