Wednesday, March 10, 2010 Filed in:
Self defense, Techniques &
Training
Rivalries among neighboring schools are nothing new. They start in
high school, and continue into college: here in my slice of heaven,
it's the Oregon State University Beavers versus the University of
Oregon Ducks. In Texas, it's the Aggies and the Longhorns. Alumni
from the respective schools can get downright cantankerous when
discussing the "other" team.
So too with shooting schools. Graduates of one school (or, more
commonly, one instructor) hold their alma mater or guru to possess
the "true way" and refuse to even acknowledge that others exist. In
the worst cases, the arguments end up sounding an awful lot like
"my Dad can beat up your Dad".
This came up the other day in a discussion I had with
AFGWWWTRA. The term that sparked the
conversation was "disciples", and I think that conveys the thought
quite nicely. Once one has invested time, effort, and money into an
area of interest it's hard to accept that there are other,
competing, interests in the world which might just have validity as
well. The guru becomes infallible, because if he/she isn't the
disciple has wasted time, effort, and money - and who is ever going
to admit to that?
I'm not immune; I went through a mild episode of school spirit some
years back, but since then I've progressed a bit. I'm open to new
ways of thinking and new methods of doing, and my attitude has gone
from "so and so says this and it is immutable" to "show me why."
The litmus test of any technique or opinion is not the logical
fallacy of argument from authority, but rather that it makes sense
given an open and agreed-upon criteria.
In an odd coincidence, I just started reading a book that explains
this behavior, and as it turns out the concepts involved may have
profound implications for self defense. They go well beyond the
guru, school, stance, grip, or anything else, and deal with our
behavior at a surprisingly base level. In other words, discipleship
in and of itself, irrespective of doctrine or dogma, may affect how
one performs in a violent encounter.
I'll have more to say when I finish the book.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: gun.skool, dogma, afgwwwtra
Spent part of last Tuesday at the
range, schmoozing with A Famous Gun Writer Who Wishes To Remain
Anonymous (hereafter referred to as "AFGWWWTRA".) We tested a few
guns, talked about revolvers - the kinds of things you'd expect a
gunsmith and a gun writer to do on a range.
AFGWWWTRA happened to have a Ruger Alaskan model in .454 Casull
that was being evaluated. Since I hadn't yet gotten the chance to
shoot one, I really wanted to see what it was like with full-house
loads. I elected to shoot a couple of cylinders worth while
AFGWWWTRA took pictures of the whole debacle. (AFGWWWTRA, it turns
out, is easily amused by masochistic idiots. I'm sure it was meant
as a compliment.)
The first cylinder was fired, sedately, in single action from the
25-yard bench. At that point I was thinking "heck, that wasn't bad.
I wonder what it'd be like in rapid fire?" The second cylinder
full, standing from about 7 yards, was fired as quickly as I could
get the gun back on target between shots.
The second cylinder hurt more. A lot
more. As
in: my poor wrists may never be the same.
What the hell was I thinking?
Just to retain my machismo cred, here I am in the midst of that
sequence, the mighty .454 loads in full fireball-producing
glory:
Courtesy
of AFGWWWTRA
Note the flash from the round just fired, and yet the gun is back
on target and the hammer is about to drop again. Yes, I am
just that
damn good! (I must be - I tell myself so all
the time!)
-=[ Grant
]=-
Tags: afgwwwtra