Shoki: The Story of Sensei Pete Ratcliff By Nick Armbrister

Sensei Pete: Mawashi-Geri is a roundhouse kick. Yoko-Geri Kekomi is a side kick. Punch. Gyaka-Zuki is a strike can be used for Jodan or Tudan. Gyaka-Zuki is…

Sensei Derek:  A Mawashi-Uchi. Mawashi roundhouse strike to head, chest, solar, plexus and ribs.

Nick: Can you please explain Tudan above and below the belt and the terms?

Sensei Derek: Tudan is the centre of the body area. Tudan. Gedan is the groin area. Jodan is the facial area. Meaning punching Jodan, kicking Jodan. Tudan. Punching Tudan, kicking Tudan. But reduced strike, like say we were doing Shuto meaning the ‘knife of the hand.’ Shuto can be to the side of the head. This is where techniques get a bit different. Soto Shuto Uchi is outside knife hand strike. Uchi Shuto Uchi is inside knife hand strike. Shuto Sakotsu Uchi is straight down there to the collar bone, straight down is Sakotsu. Shuto Hizo Komi is lower, to the spleen.

Interview with Nick Armbrister (Spoken Label - November 2018)

https://spokenlabel.bandcamp.com/track/interview-with-nick-armbrister-spoken-label-november-2018

One Hundred Years

One Hundred Years

The war to end all wars ended exactly one hundred years ago

That war failed in its objective of making war and bloodletting obsolete

Just like the bow and arrow is now outdated war was meant to be

The renderings of battle and conflict consigned to the history books

When children ask their parents: WHAT WAS WAR?

The answer should have started thus: Well child...

But that scenario never happened because war is still with us

The old soldiers never grew old and their memory lives on

As their great grandchildren prime their guns and prepare for battle

Places like the Somme, Ypres, Verdun. Paschendale and Flanders are here

Inside the souls of the Tommie, the Poilu, the Hun and more

Poppies commemorating the sacrifice and everlasting memory

Worn with pride by people like myself and my kin and my friends and family

Yet in places like Afghan and Syria and Iraq and Ukraine men fight and die

Death and destruction still rule the battlefield by blast and bullet

Weapons have advanced like smart bombs, jet fighters and missiles

Being a millennia on from biplanes, barbed wire and horses

Each soldier and each fight is mirrored thru history by another

Wars and battles complement one another in their ferocity and aim

Enemies must be defeated and military objectives achieved

Only the year and location changes while the soldier’s names fade away

To become unknown soldiers in our collective hearts and minds

Passing over before their time and entering the history books

Some are a footnote, others in heroic battles and a few forsaken

Every generation since the Great War owes it to the past to make peace

And keep hold of that peace forever more and spike the guns and grenades

So our world knows peace and harmony in an eternal Peace Dividend

The Military Industrial Complex being used for something better

Future warriors being out of work and doing new jobs

Think of the past and that awful Great War and what we can do now

Turn our world around and remember the sacrifice and cost of Total industrial war

Let no more warriors die in no more wars except in books, games and films

Remember our great fallen warriors and be humbly grateful and act their deed

Universally advancing world peace and making war obsolete forever

Natalie. Mid Course

Nat continued her flight training, moving onto more powerful aircraft, flying on and passing her Basic with ease. Next was a fast prop plane from America. It handled like a Mustang. Her instructor was in the back seat. Natalie was up front, alone fighter style.

Her first flight nearly killed them. The roaring engine stopped dead. Engine failure at six thousand feet brought silence. She took control. Pushing the nose down not to stall, Nat made a decision: to land the plane on the Pampas grass. It would save them all. Her instructor kept an eye on his pupil. They should have jumped when there was height to.

The grey green trainer floated like a bird over the huge plain. Nat dropped the nose and flaps and picked a spot. One time lucky. Earth and plane serenely kissed, a song bird alighting a flower. Nat had done it! They were down in one piece, with no damage. Long Pampas grass cushioned their plane.

Nat's instructor knew she would breeze through flight school. Her next fifteen flights were fun. Dog fights, formation flying and navigation. Then the jet! Did Natalie think engine failure was an attempt on her life? To silence her anti government songs? Would the loss of a flight instructor be acceptable? A bullet in her pretty head would be far simpler. Or the other way.

They who watched her let her fly. When Natalie passed her fast prop course with flying colours, They allowed her to live. For now. She could be used, manipulated and sent to war where she would no doubt die. They ruled like Nazis. Some had been in a previous life.

Fast jets beckoned and Nat moved up to a cool Italian aircraft. Fast looking and stylishly designed. On her first flight Nat knew she would go to war. A gut feeling told her. Her instructor showed her how to evade a fictitious enemy by rolling, turning and diving, then climbing. Finally getting on his tail and killing him. He let her loop and roll the advanced jet.

Thirty more jet flights followed, strenuous in every way. High speed flight was dangerous. Another pilot crashed. Finally Nat passed and got her wings. At the passing out parade, she was told what warplane she would fly. It was the American A-4B Skyhawk. Natalie wanted the fast French Mirage but so did everyone else. Now she was committed, personal thoughts or not.

Letters in Wartime

Letters in Wartime
Words on paper
Nothing more
Telling the story of a soldier
Or airman or sailor
Letters from the front
Sent home
To a sweetheart
Or family
First read by the censor
Telling of longing to see you
And hardship in battle
Seen thru with determination
And a love of country
Fighting for them
The loved ones
Far from where
He is stationed
Saying about his mates
Some who he misses
Killed in combat
Or worse still
Missing In Action
Maybe the Red Cross
Will locate them
All this told
By words on paper
Stay safe at home
I know the Blitz is hell
But we give it
Back to the Hun
Avoid the talking
About sensitive things
For walls have ears
And aid the enemy
Follow the blackout
I send my love
And will write soon
Next time sending my photo
Till then my dear
Keep the fires burning
We protect our country
With untold valour
We will win
This awful war
Later my love

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47

The manila envelope was full of shit. It stank so fucking much. There was too much of it. One example was this: a tattooed skate boarder was blown away after being severely beaten. He was full of lead. The stitched up bullet holes showed this. There were 6 or 7 in his upper body. It was amazing how the mortician cleaned him up. He looked asleep. And was, forever…

…part of the current mad presidents run in with criminals. These included druggies, robbers, gangsters and a whole lot more. But such things weren’t so simple. Many innocent people got caught up. Rather than admit a mistake, the cops had a way to deal with this. They planted fake evidence, be it drugs, guns or ammo. Along with fake accounts of the cops being fired upon. Of course this did happen, professional criminals had back up and weapons and made the security forces pay dearly, now and again. For the most part the Extra Judicial Killings were just that.

The dead man here was a musician. He thought he was going to sing but instead he was an EJK and blown away. It was a shame his friend was a known dealer and on the ‘List’ of known and wanted and targeted people. So he was collateral damage. This was fine in the eyes of the law, for a dealer had been exterminated. An innocent died, so be it…

…the innocent would no longer skate, be tattooed, drink beer, dance, or anything else. For he was dead. All part of the bad dream that was the Philippine drug war that killed thousands. All wars ended…