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Showing posts with label karate history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label karate history. Show all posts

Monday, April 18, 2011

My Brain is Full

I went to one of Taika Seiyu Oyata's seminars over the weekend. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, but could not escape the feeling throughout the seminar that I was an utterly uncoordinated idiot, quite unable to walk and chew gum at the same time.

All I was trying to do was learn a new exercise. You wouldn't think it would be that hard. I think I've got it, that is, I think I can execute the movements in the correct order. Haltingly and at a glacial pace, perhaps, but I think I can do it. Perhaps in a week I won't look like Frankenstein's monster whilst I do it.

This seems to be one of the benefits to training in RyuTe. You WILL, via some very considerable challenges to your physical coordination, forge new neural pathways. As some consider that sort of thing one of the means by which you avoid age-related mental deterioration, that is a good thing.

A note: if you, as a practitioner of some other martial art, had happened to be in a roomful of RyuTe yudansha on Friday night, and had you known no better, it is my bet that there is no way on God's green earth you would have identified what they were doing as Okinawan karate. It is increasingly hard for me to read people's commentaries on "karate" without thinking to myself, "But there is no way that you've seen 'karate,' at least 'karate' as it was 150 years ago." I'm very serious. What you are seeing as "karate" and what Taika Oyata is teaching his students are different. The surface appearance may be similar, but the underlying reality is very different indeed.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Don't Just Assume Stupidity

I was explaining--what was I explaining? Kinda hard to put it into words, I guess--my general approach to life, the universe, and everything to a co-worker a week or so ago.

"My general thinking is that individual people and what they do may be stupid," I said, "but in general, the people as a group are wise, and you can usually count on this: if things have been done a certain way for a long, long time, there's a reason. I may not know what that reason is, but that doesn't mean there isn't a reason. And it's true that sometimes it turns out there isn't a reason, or the reason has been lost to the passage of time, or the reason may have been relevant a thousand years ago, but isn't anymore. But for the most part, people as a body are not stupid, and you're well-advised to at least consider the old ways thoroughly before discarding them. There may be more to them than you think."

I wouldn't have remembered that conversation, probably, but a blogpost concerning a particular martial arts technique that one noted individual had dramatically changed for his system reminded me of it. Y'see, I'd given, as an example of my thinking, my personal experience with taekwon-do and RyuTe.

I made it almost all the way to shodan--first-degree black belt--in taekwon-do. That was a fairly long time ago, and there were still plenty of taekwon-do teachers around whose teaching was not exclusively geared to sporting competitions. Not that I didn't learn tournament sparring--I did--but I also learned the old ITF hyung that were based on the Okinawan kata, and, overall, I'd say I learned how to hit pretty hard, not just how to score points.

Those old hyung always puzzled me. Why, I wondered, were we being told to "chamber" both hands like so before executing a double punch (or whatever)? Why were there "salutes" in the hyung? I never really got answers to those questions, and many like them, but I never doubted for an instant that there were perfectly good reasons we did those things. I just didn't know what the reasons were.

To me, it came down to a relatively simple question: were the people who made those hyung, those kata, stupid? If I wasn't prepared to assume from the get-go that they were stupid or ignorant--and of course, I had been told that the forms originated with masters long ago--then I had to assume that those not-stupid, not-ignorant people had reasons for what they did.

When I wound up with the opportunity to study RyuTe (then traveling under the name "Ryukyu Kempo"), I found the reasons. The movements did indeed have meanings. Stacked hands, like in a "chamber," meant something. There were effective techniques connected with such motions and positions. The old masters weren't dolts. Every "block," every strike, every motion and position of the legs, forward and reverse, has meaning and applications.

The fact that I didn't know they were there when I was studying taekwon-do didn't mean they weren't there. The fact that it takes more than a handful of repetitions to get good at them doesn't mean they aren't quick and effective.

Every so often, I'm glad I didn't decide, before I began to understand techniques a little better (I will readily admit that I still have much to learn), to just discard or modify the old ways and go on to something different in the name of modernity. Without wishing to seem critical, it seems to me that rather a lot of people have done that, not just in martial arts, but as regards life in general. The "noted individual" to whom I obliquely referred a moment ago may well have been a case in point, in that the dramatic change he made had a certain surface-level logic to it, but when he made it, he discarded countless applications that can only be correctly performed when the technique is performed--you guessed it!--the old way. Whether he understood this and chose to make the change in the name of simplifying things for his American students, or whether he didn't understand it and just thought the old masters must not have quite "gotten it," I don't know.

I just know I do my best not to make that mistake, again, not just in martial arts, but as regards life in general. The old ways have survived for a reason. It might be worth your time to determine what that reason is before discarding them.
Just my two cents. No disrespect intended. Not naming names is deliberate, as the idea here is to illustrate a point, not to make anyone feel bad or anything.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Mercy in the Melee: Another Answer to "What is Karate?"

My blogospheric friend, Dr. Pat Parker--cardiac rehab guy, martial artist, notorious Presbyterian, and jalapeno-grower extraordinaire--occasionally posts video clips and or commentary answering the question, "What is karate?" They are always informative and interesting and have inspired me to take a stab at answering the question in my own way.

What is karate? The simplest answer is that, as far as my reading is concerned (I don't pretend to be an expert, or to have actually been to Okinawa, or to speak the language, etc., etc., etc.), it is the unarmed portion of the warrior-class martial arts of the Ryukyu archipelago, though it is not really easy to totally separate it from the weapons arts of that area, and in my not-so-expert opinion, they really should be considered together.

On a technical level, karate is a multifaceted art, comprised of a blend of indigenous Okinawan technique influenced by the continuous importation and reimportation of Chinese martial arts. Okinawan ti and tegumi seem to have influenced it, and it soaked up what the famous Chinese families of Kuninda brought to Okinawa, and what visiting Chinese emissaries and merchants brought--Monk Fist and Tiger Fist and White Crane, and probably others. As far as I can tell--and God knows this isn't authoritative, it is just my opinion--some of its footwork and certain other elements may have been influenced by the sword handling of the Japanese.

It makes brilliant use of the mechanics of human perception, that is--by the closest analogy I can make--like stage magic, it takes advantage of the way people naturally perceive and react to movement, so that often, the person on the receiving end of a technique never really sees it coming. Nerve techniques are everywhere, in the strikes, locks, and throws. All of this was "cooked," if you will, into a state of extreme efficiency by the pressures of dealing with the Okinawan political situation in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries.

Obviously, this body of knowledge is better preserved in some modern karate organizations than others. Some, including some of the largest and most famous, seemed, until recently, to have been completely unaware that their formal exercises, or kata, contained much in the way of joint locks, for example, let alone nerve techniques. It will come as no surprise to regular readers that I am convinced that this body of knowledge is best preserved in RyuTe.

But that is not all there is to karate. Karate, certainly as it has been taught to me in RyuTe, and generally throughout Okinawa, to judge from what I have heard and read, is also characterized by a profound respect for the value of human life--not only the defender's life, not only the lives of those being defended, but also the attacker's life. It is true that karate has its share of potentially lethal and disabling techniques, but killing and crippling opponents is not its goal. Its goal is to protect life. Ultimately, it is an expression of mercy--mercy shown to your own family, in the act of going home alive and unharmed, that you may continue to contribut to their well-being and development; mercy toward the defenseless, whom you may end up protecting, that they may do likewise; and mercy to attackers, that they might live to see the error of their ways and to embrace a new way of living.

The goal in karate is to protect human life wherever possible. It is mercy in conflict, mercy in the arena, mercy in the melee.

That's what karate is.

Friday, May 28, 2010

A YouTube Tour of Seisan

I'm not entirely sure what my favorite kata is. There are days when it might be Naihanchi Sandan, and there are days--lots of days--when I think it might be Seisan. Something about it appeals to me. Part of it, I am sure, is its antiquity. The kata is old, very old. I'm not at all sure that anyone knows for sure just how old it is, and practicing it, I almost feel like I've got a pipeline to practitioners of several hundred years ago.

Only God knows how many versions of Seisan there are. In RyuTe, we practice a version called "Tomari Seisan," and the further one goes along in learning the kata, the more variations you learn and investigate, until you might not find it entirely unfair to say that there are several versions of Seisan in RyuTe alone. I thought, for the amusement of those interested in such things, that I might gather a few clips of differing versions together.

First up, "Tomari Seisan" as performed by a former RyuTe practitioner, now practicing under the umbrella of the "Ryukyu Kempo Alliance." I would, of course, have posted a clip of a current RyuTe practitioner performing the kata, but there don't seem to be any examples on YouTube. This is as close as I could get.


Here's the Okinawa Kenpo Seisan. Okinawa Kenpo and RyuTe share some common lineage.


This is the JKA (Japan Karate Association, or Shotokan) version, which they call "Hangetsu."


Chito Ryu interests me. The founder was a physician, and I have often wondered exactly how much impact his medical knowledge had on his karate. This is their version.


This is Morio Higaonna of Goju Ryu fame. I am told that Donn Draeger (Don't know who Draeger was? Shame on you...) once said that Higaonna was "the most dangerous man in Japan in a real fight." I don't know about that. Wouldn't Draeger have had to know every man in Japan to say that? But still, Higaonna is a most impressive Goju practitioner, and here is his Seisan.


This is Goju Kai, or the mainland Japanese Goju Ryu organization.


This is Shito Ryu's version.


And here's Wado Ryu's Seisan.


Isshin Ryu is something of a blend of Shorin Ryu and Goju Ryu. Here's their Seisan


Shorin Ryu Seisan


Shorinji Ryu Seisan


Seibukan Seisan. Seibukan is, I reckon, another variant of Shorin Ryu. There must be at least half a dozen.


Uechi Ryu Seisan

Monday, March 29, 2010

If You're Interested in Okinawan Karate...

...you gotta follow this blog. I'm pretty sure it'll be an education in itself.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Book Review: The Way of Sanchin Kata: The Application of Power

When I review a book on martial arts, I can't help but feel that there is a certain amount of cheekiness involved on my part. You see, it's pretty much a given that the author of the book I'm reviewing has skills considerably more advanced than my own (not much point in reading the book otherwise, right?), so it's hard to
escape the "Who-am-I-to-criticize?" feeling. Nevertheless, hoping that someone will get something out of my take on a given volume, I press on...
I have long been interested in the kata sanchin. It's likely that only God knows for sure just how long it's been around. It exists in a variety of forms in various kung-fu systems (usually written in Roman letters as saam chien) and at least three different Okinawan versions come easily to mind: the Goju Ryu version, the Uechi Ryu version, and the Motobu Udun Ti version.

The versions differ noticeably from one another, and it doesn't help that the kata is often performed badly--terribly badly, so much so that even I, though I practice a system that does not include Sanchin in its curriculum, can recognize how bad the situation is.

Of this much I'm sure: you shouldn't look and sound as though you're about to cough up blood and entrails when you do Sanchin.

I picked up Kris Wilder's The Way of Sanchin Kata: The Application of Power because--even though the system I practice doesn't include it--I choose to practice Sanchin. To my mind, it seems important and useful, though I don't think I can quite subscribe to Hiroo Ito's opinion, given in the foreward, that:
The very basic kata in Okinawa-style karate is sanchin, and it has been understood historically that you master karate only if you master this kata.
After all, there are quite a number of Okinawan systems and subsystems that do not include Sanchin at all, and the skills of those practitioners certainly don't seem lacking to me. However, for various reasons, I decided that I would try to learn and practice the Uechi Ryu version of Sanchin, and though the instructional video I have isn't bad (It's Rod Mindlin's, if anyone is wondering), it was nevertheless clear to me that there were things about the kata that simply aren't adequately explored, and I needed extra instruction, preferably from someone not doing the coughing-up-blood-and-entrails version. Mr. Wilder's book appeared to provide some of the details I was trying to figure out.

I have not been altogether disappointed. Even though Mr. Wilder's book deals almost entirely with the Goju Ryu version of Sanchin--which, I would guess, is also pretty much the same as the Isshin Ryu version, since Shimabuku Tatsuo presumably imported the kata directly from Goju Ryu into Isshin Ryu--he carefully notes details of the movements that are clearly applicable to other versions of the kata and explores the whys and wherefores in considerable depth and his material has therefore helped me with my practice. Since Mr. Wilder says:
The goal of this book is to achieve a better understanding of sanchin kata through the mechanics, history, and applications of the kata.
I guess that means that his goal has been achieved, at least in my case.

The book starts out with a brief history of the kata. It is necessarily somewhat brief, for the simple fact of the matter is that the ultimate origins of the kata are lost in time. As Mr. Wilder says:
...the viewpoints between the versions of the history of sanchin kata are difficult to make clear. It is only possible to touch upon a handful of points on the timeline with reasonable assurance when looking at the history of sanchin kata. Finding the root, or the clear origin, of sanchin kata is as difficult as it was for the British and French in 1854 to find the headwaters of the Nile river.
This section, therefore, did not really offer anything new and startling, but rather recapped the well-known basic historical facts: that the kata is known to be at least several hundred years old, exists in more than one version, was an integral part of the martial arts systems taught by Kanryo Higashionna and Kanbun Uechi, and was altered somewhat further by Chojun Miyagi into what is now probably the most widely taught version, that of Goju Ryu.

After that, Mr. Wilder spends some time discussing the relationships between physical movements and mental processes, the way the hemispheres of the brain communicate with each other, the differences between various kinds of brain waves, and elements of training that affect all of these. Mr. Wilder's comment that
Moving in sanchin kata, because it is a walk and not a march, helps create better communication between the two sides of the brain.
reminded me somewhat of some of the things I have read about the Feldenkrais Method.

The next chapter is largely about how to measure one's movements--how close the fist should be to the body, etc.--and contains one particularly fascinating section asserting that the Fibonacci Ratio is quite noticeable throughout Sanchin kata.
...because this ratio is among the basic mathematical formulas upon which nature builds, it is important that we acknowledge this and work in harmony with nature, and not against it. Think of it this way; close your eyes and imagine you have everything you need to build a ten-foot-tall pyramid--the stone, the mortar, and a crane. In your mind, take a few seconds and build the pyramid.

Now look at it. The point is at the top, correct? Clearly, you cannot build an upside-down-pyramid and have it stand. It simply is not stable and tips over to seek a balance point. If you did build a pyramid upside-down, you would need supports to hold it in the upside-down position. Those supports, of course, would not be needed if you build the pyramid correctly to begin with. It follows then, that in sanchin kata, one should adhere to the ratio. Not to do so is the equivalent of building an upside-down pyramid.
And then a little later:
Sanchin kata teaches the fundamentals of karate that can then be extended over the entire syllabus of karate. This extension of this principal gives the practitioner the structural integrity of the basics throughout their martial arts techniques.
The next several chapters dwell mostly on the mechanics of the kata, building from the ground up, through the feet, then the legs, then the hips, and so on. Mr. Wilder goes into great detail as to which muscles should be doing what, which is very useful information. When he gets to the arms, he spends a little time talking about the mechanics of the punch, giving a good deal of extremely useful information which is, I flatly guarantee, given insufficient attention by far too many karate practitioners. Not that this is altogether their fault; the sort of detail that Mr. Wilder gives is simply difficult to communicate adequately to each member of a class of twenty or more students. Frankly, I got almost all the way up to black belt in Taekwon-do without being familiar with some of the details Mr. Wilder gives, and when I made the switch to Okinawan karate, my instructor had/is having to help me unlearn the bad habits I had acquired.

At one point, Mr. Wilder said something that arrested my attention. Referring to the way the punching hand rotates from palm up (at the side) to palm down (at impact), he says, emphasis mine:
Staying relaxed allows for quickness. During the first three quarters of the distance the punch covers, it is relaxed. Once the fist has passed the other fist, the rotation then begins. This exchange of fists takes place in the last quarter or so of extension toward the target.

The twisting of the fist at the last moment is important because it creates a snapping shock instead of a push punch. The twisting of the punch at the last third or so of the length the punch travels is in line with the Fibonacci Ratio in the form of a spiral. Again, this is a case of a movement that conforms to, and uses, nature instead of trying to force the body to comply with the will of the individual.
This interested me because for some time I have been dissatisfied with using the English word "punch" to describe what we are learning to do in our group. It has seemed to me that a "punch" is more of a hard push than what we do, which more closely resembles making a relaxed, whipping strike--creating a "snapping shock," in Mr. Wilder's words--with the knuckles, and I have grown to prefer the Japanese term tsuki.

In the remainder of the book, Mr. Wilder covers the "Iron Shirt" aspect of the kata, breathing, "rooting," the movements of the kata, testing the kata, and training implements.

I found it interesting that when discussing the "Iron Shirt" effect--which, according to him, allows the practitioner to take blows without injury--it seemed to me that he dwelt more on how to achieve this effect than on how it works, and I can only speculate that it has something to do with something Yang Jwing-Ming talked about in one of his books: that many pressure points can be "armored" by tensing the muscles around them. Knowing this, it becomes obvious that being able to control one's muscles immediately and completely in this regard could be useful, but I don't recall Mr. Wilder directly addressing the isue.

I had mixed feelings about the material in the breathing section. Although it was very clear and helped to explain why the breathing of the Goju Ryu practitioner sounds the way it does (and it can be, and is, frequently done incorrectly, so this material should be given close attention by Goju practitioners seeking a clear explanation of this breathing), it seemed to me that the breathing in the Goju version of the kata was the only sanchin breathing addressed, and one thing anyone looking into sanchin will immediately notice is that the breathing in the Uechi Ryu version is considerably different. It is also very difficult to find a clear explanation of how the Uechi Ryu breathing is done--it is usually described as simply "natural" and "hissing"--and I was hoping to find more about it in this book. On the other hand, the material in the book was so clear as regards the Goju version that I felt like I had picked up a tidbit or two that would at least be applicable to my practice.

I did enjoy the material on training implements, especially the makiwara. The makiwara, it seems to me, is unique. No other training device gives feedback to the practitioner in precisely the way it does. As Mr. Wilder says:
Striking pads, focus mitts, heavy bags, water bags, and other training aids are not direct replacements for the makiwara. The reason for this is the makiwara gives instant and direct feedback in the form of non-recoiled pressure. As a heavy bag moves away from your fist and swings back when struck, it takes time to sway from your strike and then return. The makiwara gives instant pressure--the harder you hit, the harder it gives pressure back toward you.
The only thing I didn't like about the book was a rather obvious lack of editing. Over and over again, I found sentences that were so poorly framed--often not even grammatically correct--that the information they were trying to convey was obscured. I don't blame Mr. Wilder for this. Taking care of that sort of thing is the job of the editor, and whoever it was did not do his job very well.

Overall, the book is informative and useful, and though I would still recommend that anyone trying to learn the kata on his own take advantage of one of the video treatments of the subject, there is no doubt that anyone already knowing the kata and trying to improve his knowledge and performance will find this book well worth purchasing.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

From Dr. Bruce Clayton's Shotokan's Secret

I found Dr. Bruce Clayton's Shotokan's Secret fascinating. Not that I agree with him on a great many things; I don't. He is so obviously sold on the idea that Shotokan is the ultimate fighting art, that its linear punch is so overwhelmingly powerful as almost to vitiate the need for careful targeting, that saying there is a certain amount of bias in what he writes is a considerable understatement. Also, there are some things about which, at least according to what I have heard from other sources I know to be reliable, he is simply wrong. And there are places where I know from personal experience that he is simply wrong.

On the other hand, it seems to me that there is a certain element of, shall we say, bold speculation in his writing that sometimes generates some of the most interesting insights. He asks questions like, "What tasks should we reasonably expect the martial art practiced by the Okinawan Royal Guard to be able to accomplish? And knowing that kata was the principle means by which those guards got their practice, what movements in those kata might accomplish those tasks?" In answering those questions, he has come up with kata applications that, frankly, I'm not sure I ever would have--but many of them look like they could work.

Kata's weird that way. I have seen several different methods of interpreting kata and unlocking the techniques within, and the weird thing is that all of them seem to produce at least some practical and useful techniques. Dr. Clayton's method is no exception. He writes, at one point:
The real bunkai of the Shuri-te kata is so vicious it quite takes your breath away. It breaks necks. It breaks arms. It incapacitates multiple people in a single move. It rips out eyes. It crushes throats. It destroys knee joints. It targets and breaks critical bones. It ruptures vital organs. People hiss and flinch when you demonstrate.
Bunkai, for those who don't practice karate, are the applications drawn from the movements of the kata--the dancelike routines you see people performing in karate classes. And you might be wondering, if all you've ever seen of "karate" is the stuff that kids and teenagers do, wearing pillows on their heads and hands and attempting to score two points by walloping each other upside the head with their metatarsals, if karate really can be so nastily effective as Dr. Clayton paints it.

The answer is yes. Yes, it can. I take issue with his description of those techniques as "the real bunkai," for the reality is that all of those motions have more than one application (almost the first thing I was taught was that all the movements can be applied as strikes, as blocks, and as tuite), but it is nevertheless true that some of those applications really can do those things, at least with sufficient training.

Break necks? Yes, you can find neck breaks--or at least movements that can effectively break necks--in the kata.

Break arms? Yes. Mostly at the elbow. Elbows are not all that hard to break. What is difficult is overcoming the resistance of the muscles around the elbows, the muscles that are protecting the elbow joint itself. But there are ways...

Incapacitate multiple people in a single move? I suppose it might depend on what you mean by "incapacitate." But Dr. Clayton does give at least one example, and I have seen more than a few demonstrations on Youtube of people tying two, or even three people up in knots with martial arts techniques.

Rip out eyes? Of course you can.

Crush throats? You can. Might not need to. Simply punching the throat might very well send it into spasms severe enough to make your opponent pass out.

Break knees? You kidding? Of course.

Rupture vital organs? I don't know how easily, but I do know that if you know where an organ is, and can hit darn hard, an ability that classical karate certainly purports to develop, you can hit it hard enough to really hurt. You might not even have to rupture the organ. There's a nerve right around the kidney that will certainly get an attacker's attention, for example. Hit that with the tip of your thumb, and "rupture" isn't exactly necessary.

One of the things that, to my mind, characterizes realistic applications is that people really do shudder, or "hiss and flinch," when you start showing them. When you've got a real application, you don't really have to convince people that it would work. They can see it, and it's so obvious--"intuitively obvious," as my own instructor put it once--that contemplating it will send a shiver down your spine. They may never have thought of putting a hurt on a human being that way, but once they've seen it, there's a part of them that's thinking, "Sweet Honey Mustard! What demented freak thought that up?!"

And the answer is: the sort of demented freak that was determined to go home alive and mostly unharmed to his wife and family. Period.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

From Dr. Bruce Clayton's Shotokan's Secret

Just an excerpt. I thought some might find it interesting
As if karate history were not confusing enough, one eventually realizes that Japanese writers and karate masters enjoy a very special relationship with the truth. It confounds the naive Western reader to discover that respected Japanese sensei casually conceal, distort or fabricate stories about karate's historical origins for their own purposes. In Japanese culture this is the normal thing to do, and it would not occur to them to do otherwise. In Japan, the official story is more important than the actual truth. In fact, they consider the official story to be another kind of truth, even if the story is completely inaccurate and deliberately misleading. For a person to question the official story is shockingly rude. People who insist on digging for verifiable facts are derided as rikutsuppoi, or "reason freaks."

We can lay this philosophy at the feet of Ieyasu Tokugawa, the master of mind control. The Tokugawa edicts forced the Japanese people to adopt a double standard of truth. Every person had their private opinion, their secret honne, which was not safe to share even within the family. Instead, they all staunchly supported the official government story, the tatemae. It was the only safe thing to do in an era when a careless word could doom an entire family, or even a village.

This distinction between honne and tatemae appears again and again in karate history, right down to the present day. Honne refers to a person's true feelings, underlying motives, or the true facts of the case, and is written using the kanji for "true or real" plus the kanji that means "sound." Tatemae means the cover story, and is written with kanji that mean "to build" and "in front." In other words, tatemae is the screen we erect to hide the truth.

For example, in 19th century Okinawa, the tatemae (official story) was that the Sho kings were in charge of the kingdom, and they reported only to the Emperor of China. The hidden honne (the real situation) was that the Satsuma overlords were secretly in control. The Sho kings didn't make a move without Satsuma approval. That's the difference between honne and tatemae.

This curious relationship to the truth has an important corollary: Japanese citizens are quite comfortable with information that is inconsistent, contradictory, ambiguous and incomplete. They're used to it. Ambiguity is a major feature of the language itself. It's normal. Contradictions cannot be investigated, because that would question the tatemae. Incomplete explanations cannot be researched and explained. Japanese citizens simply assume that they are being kept in the dark for a good reason that will be revealed to them, or not, in due course.

For instance, Japanese authors seem quite comfortable with the jumble of disjointed, self-contradictory information they have assembled on the history of karate. They often repeat tatemae directly to their readers as if it were real history.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm pretty much convinced that--despite flaws elsewhere in the book--Dr. Clayton has touched on something here. The more I dig into the history of karate, the more I am convinced that there has been almost as much of an effort to obfuscate as to reveal. One of the most glaring examples that comes to mind comes from a simple perusal of two books: Shoshin Nagamine's The Essence of Okinawan Karate-Do and Kiyoshi Arakaki's The Secrets of Okinawan Karate: Essence and Techniques. I say this simply because Arakaki says he learned karate punching from Nagamine, and yet the methods illustrated by Nagamine and Arakaki in their respective books are polar opposites. You cannot read both books and rationally conclude, in my opinion, that they are trying to teach the same material. One is left with very little option but to conclude that some people, to this day, are trying very hard to leave most karate practitioners with incomplete or erroneous knowledge and that therefore it is quite possible that much of what you might learn from some people is, in fact, erroneous, and quite possibly through no fault of their own.

Just something to be aware of.