Brain damage

I can attest to this Wisdom…

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I’ve only ever been knocked out once. I say knocked out… but really it was more of a TKO. Or technical knockout ie Not unconscious. I remember it in technicolor detail… which is strange considering I had just had some brain damage perpetrated on me. I remember my vision splitting in two… a VERY weird sensation, something akin to wearing bi-focals maybe. The top half of my vision was completely blurry… the bottom half… perfectly in focus and sharp. I wanted to carry on fighting… my hands were up… but my legs wouldn’t work and collapsed under me. I fell to the mat in this weird half sitting position… wondering what was going on.

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This is the guy who’d hit me (the guy on top). We’d come up together and were both busy doing our instructors course at the MMA gym we attended. It was our first day of instructor training… which was… actually just instructor candidates brawling each other until one person got knocked out…. no tap outs, no time limit. Knock out only. Supposedly you need to experience this… in order to… eh… fully appreciate what being an instructor is all about. I was 20… what did I know.

He probably out classed me about 12kg (26lbs) at the time. Which is a lot. His nickname was already ‘One gear’… ha ha… because he only had one gear…  which was balls to the wall. A name he kept when he went pro. In any event we exchanged a couple of shots and I knew if I kept this sort of distance I’d be in serious trouble. Tried to slip one of his crosses on my way into a clinch but misjudged it ever so slightly and caught his blow on the top of my forehead.

You should, theoretically, be able to ride a shot like that… there is no way it should have buckled me the way it did. But it was like being hit by a freight train.

And Joey goes down.

In an act of extraordinary concern for my welfare, my coach put me back in the ring for another round about fifteen minutes later. Concussion (which I’m sure I had) be damned. To my credit, I managed to knock my opponent out this time round. Yay me.

Moral of the story is. Don’t get knocked out. It really sucks. And if you do… go home.

 

 

Batesian Mimicry

Batesian Mimicry, Noun, mimicry in which an edible animal is protected by its resemblance to one avoided by predators. Named after Henry W. Bates (1825–92), the English naturalist who first described it.

The easiest example of Batesian Mimicry is usually the comparison between the Coral snake and the Mexican Milk snake.

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One is completely harmless, the other has venom second in virulence only to that of the black mamba. Which one is which?

The Milk snake knows its a pretender. The Coral snake knows that it is the real deal. The expert knows the difference. But to the layman… it could be either or. So we are more than likely to err on the side of caution.

If Red Touches Yellow it will kill a fellow
If Red touch Black, venom is lacks

Now you know.

Only humans also practice Batesian Mimicry. Every… single… day. For example when we exhibit expertise. Or rather when we pretend to exhibit expertise.

A group of guys are clustered round the barbecue, beers in hand, talking sport, eighties action heroes versus the modern day dearth of these exemplars, the merits of queens pawn openings… you know the usual. Casually the conversation shifts from goodnatured banter into serious murk and ego. Suddenly someone is espousing their foolproof stock picking or real estate scheme. Theres ALWAYS that one guy. The guys who’s side hustle is trading or flipping houses, who talks a big game. Now if there was a real Coral snake in the group that wouldn’t happen… The real stock broker or real estate tycoon would put that person down or more likely just intimidate that person into keeping quiet. But if there isn’t that person… how would we know if this guy was for real?

I used to see a form of Batesian Mimicry almost every day at the MMA gym where I was an instructor. And then later on when I went on to become a CQC instructor*. Guys would come into the gym for the beginners class and talk smack. How many street fights/bar brawls they’d been in, how many opponents, how they’d prevailed (often heroically without a scratch). You’d start to imagine you were in the company of some exceptionally scary individuals.

*in many respects the police guys were even worse than those other blaggards. There I was… six guys behind hard cover with AKs and me with only my 9mm’ I paraphrase… but that was the gist of it

The two hour class was split, forty minutes of stand up and clinch followed by sparring. Usually boxing. Those guys that talked big before class would often do okay against other beginners (milk snakes) but when they went up against a coral snake, they would wilt and fade. Often they didn’t make it to the second part of the class which was grappling… and if they did, they usually didn’t come back. I’m pretty sure this happens in MMA, Muay Thai and boxing gyms around the world. Those that talk, the talk, can rarely, if ever, walk it.

I think this is made even worse these days by social media, and being able to present or project any idea of self you want to. Post some unverifiable claims. Edit some video. Fake it, until you make it.

The problems comes in when you are seeking guidance, advice or mentorship. None of us are experts at everything… and usually the area’s we seek to improve are area’s in which we ourselves are deficient.

For example. I know very little about cars. I am reliant on my mechanic to tell me what the problem is. He’s throwing a lot of jargon at me. Something about having to replace the catalytic convertor. I smile tightly… and nod my head, in a fashion I hope signals some sort of consideration on my part. But really, I have NO idea what he’s been on about for the last five minutes. Is he a milk snake or a coral snake?

In the end I decide to trust him. Mostly because he has a great big red Viking beard and I’ve been using him for years. He sends me videos of Melodic German Death Metal bands. We bumped into each other at a Rammstein concert once… which basically (I think) means we are related now.

In any event. Almost no one is what they appear to be. (I also like Miles Davis and Vivaldi) We have been conditioned that asking for proof is rude and that we should give people the benefit of the doubt.

I call bullshit on all of that.

For example, if I’m going to pay someone to give me financial advice…. I want to see their personal portfolio. Preferably a verified copy of their dashboard. If you are not willing to do that… fucked if I’m giving you a dime buddy. If that were the normal operating procedure… theres one industry that would disappear in an instant. Same goes for stock pickers and real estate guys*. Bring me a list of every trade you’ve ever done. If you’re above average, we can talk… if you’re exceptional then I will listen, but until then why don’t you have a..

nice warm cup of shut the fuck up.

*or any industry really.

I’m just saying be skeptical. Even of this blog and the thoughts and musings contained within. The author has almost no expertise in anything. Except perhaps in creating navel lint. If only we could harness that power for good…