“My father would always say, people who practice martial arts go through three stages: seeing yourself, seeing the world, seeing all living beings.”
Based on the life story of wing chun master Ip Man, The Grandmaster is an award-winning Hong Kong-Chinese martial arts drama starring Tony Leung as Ip Man and Zhang Ziyi as Gong Er. The film encapsulates Ip Man’s life, from his peaceful marriage in Foshan to his escape to Hong Kong after the Second Sino-Japanese War and rounding out with his founding of a successful martial arts school.
The Grandmaster can be considered an unorthodox action film. Rather than focus solely on the commercial thrill of violence, it depicts wing chun as an art of caution and intelligence and the personal battles of morality that define true fighting. For instance, when Ip Man challenges the martial arts grandmaster Gong Yutian, they engage in a battle of philosophy and wits, not fists. Ip Man is later challenged by Gong’s daughter, Gong Er, and the two clash in a fight of delicacy and precision, with the terms that whoever breaks a piece of furniture during the fight loses. Gong Er’s grapple with the values behind fighting insidiously tainted by wartime’s sprawling fear is front and center in the film. Wong showcases Ip Man’s intellectual and spiritual prowess, underscoring the thoughtful fluidity lurking beneath each swift movement.
In terms of production, The Grandmaster is known for having an extensive development time. Leung reportedly spent years training in wing chun for this movie and broke his arm in the process. The Grandmaster is Wong’s most expensive production to date, and Wong cites the quickly expanding Chinese film industry as the impetus driving the dissemination of more structurally advanced Sino features around the world.
“They say I spread wing chun throughout the world. I hope that’s true. I didn’t do it to acquire renown. The martial arts should be open to all, everyone should walk the same route. It all comes down to two words: Horizontal, Vertical.”My father would always say, people who practice martial arts go through three stages: seeing yourself, seeing the world, seeing all living beings.”
Click on it for the real size. At first I only did Ryu, Dan, and Ken, but then I decided Chun Li should be in there…then decided Part 3 and 5 should be represented as well, THEN figured Rose and Guile should be in there because they owe their existence to Jojo. Then finally I decided to add a Dio rep. Since Gill and Urien may or may not have been inspired by the Pillar Men, I chose Gill instead of Bison.
The Background was also inspired by an existing Jojo Wallpaper I saw once. Even though I was working with existing assets, this still took awhile to do. Still had to customize ALOT of stuff. Also I found out that Alex is 195cm, just like the Joestar Men! Dang
For some reason cooling down after studying involves helping other people study. Oh well! Here’s a handy list of phrases you can use in your Irish essays at either Junior or Leaving Cert level.
For Topical Essays (the Irish language, littering, racism, the economy etc)
ar an gcéad dul síos/i dtús báire - first of all/in the first place chun an fhírinne a rá - to tell the truth feictear domsa - it seems to me d'fheadfadh sé bheith níos measa - it could be worse is oth liom a rá - i hate to say/i’m sorry to say cur i gcás - for example le blianta beaga anuas - in recent years sa lá atá inniu ann - nowadays i láthair na huaire - at present sa todhchaí/amach anseo - in the future measaim - I think dul chun cinn - progress saineolaithe - experts conspóideach - controvertial achmhainní nádurtha - natural resources teocht domhanda - global temperature athrú aeráide - climate change ag dul i ngleic le fadhb an bhruscair - tackling the litter problem ina theannta sin - as well as that go bunúsach - basically níl lá lochta agam orthu - I don’t blame them at all ciníochas an-chaolchúiseach - very subtle racism blaiseadh dá gcultúr - a taste of their culture cead dom, cead duit - live and let live
For Story Essasys - (Lá amháin chuaigh mé féin agus mo chara ar siúlóid. Go tobann, tháinig ollphéist as siopa milseán le trí pacáiste lán le cupán im pís thalún. Tá beirt chairde agam anois. 7rl)
ar mhuin na muice - on the pig’s back ní raibh duine ná deoraí le feiceál - there was nobody to be seen gan aithne gan urlabhra - unconcsious go tobann/gan choinne - suddenly/without warning ceacht dóite foghlamtha - a lesson learned cúis áthais - reason to be happy taom scaoill - a panic attack níl fonn ná fiach orm x a dhéanamh - I really don’t want to do x sceimhlithe - terrified ag tiomáint go róghasta - driving too fast chomh tiubh géar is a thoicfadh leo - as fast as they could deis chaillte - lost opportunity chuamar amú - we got lost scréach ollmhór - a great scream i mbaol báis - in danger of dying díoscán rothaí agus coscán - the screech of wheels and breaks meangadh mór millteach - a great big smile
Don’t forget to adjust tense and person accordingly when you’re using these here fancy phrases!
Shivering faintly, Obi-Wan pressed his arms tightly around himself as
sweat rolled down his temple and neck as he stared at the door of a
medical room in the Halls. He must have come down sick with something
like a lot of the other Initiates had been lately.
Something was wrong… the Force felt almost… remorseful?
Obi-Wan furrowed his brows at that and then noticed something else
that was peculiar.
There was no noise.
Actually there was no sound at all.
Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, another bead of sweat rolling down his
cheek this time as he slowly forced one hand away from his body and
up in front of his eyes, snapping his thumb and middle finger
No quick snap of skin rubbing skin.
Only the prevailing silence that was starting to fill with Obi-Wan’s
panic as the room swam. He couldn’t even hear his own sharp breaths
as he touched his ears.
And then big hands pulled his away from his face and to the sheets,
Obi-Wan looking wide eyed up at the healer holding onto his wrists,
the zabrak’s lips moving but Obi-Wan not hearing anything.
“I can’t hear…I can’t hear!” He gasped out, tears pouring
down his cheeks along with the sweat from his fever.
Obi-Wan Kenobi could no longer hear.
It was a pale fellow Initiate who came back from the Halls of Healing
after contracting Pon disease but that was to be expected, no one
considered it odd as Obi-Wan settled back to his clan and dorm.
And hey, Bruck had back his favorite teasing toy!
He actually started to miss Oafy-Wan!
“Well well well, look what the loth-cat dragged in.” He drawled
happily, Alto sniggering from his position on his own bed as Obi-Wan
started reading off a pad, sitting cross legged on his own bed.
“Looks like you should have stayed a few more days in the Halls
Oafy-Wan, looking a bit pale there.”
The redhead didn’t respond and Bruck narrowed his eyes slowly. “Oi,
I’m talking to you.”
Just Obi-Wan slowly scrolling through the pad in his lap.
Bruck gritted his teeth. “What, you suddenly too good to talk to me
Oafy-Wan?” He growled, getting to his feet and marching over.
He grabbed the suddenly startled boy who let out a yelp by the front
of his tunic and pulled him to his feet. “I was talking to you
Kenobi?!” He growled out, eyes narrowed in displeasure as he stared
at the pale faced boy with sunken in eyes.
“C-Chun?” Kenobi stuttered out.
“Oh now you’re tal-”
“Leave Obi-Wan alone Chun!” Eerin ran over to them even as Alto
got to his feet. “Its not his fault, he didn’t mean to ignore
you!” She jerked her friend away from the other boy, pushing the
redhead behind her even as Kenobi looked between them with a frankly
terrified look on his face.
Bruck frowned harder, confused. “What do you mean he didn’t mean
to? I wasn’t exactly talking quietly to him.”
“He can’t hear. Obi-Wan is deaf. The fever took his hearing.”
The mon calamari snapped, arms spread to keep Bruck away from Kenobi.
Bruck blinked sharply, slowly looking from Eerin to Kenobi who was
flickering his eyes between both, confusion and fear still lacing his
Hands falling limp to his side, Bruck stared back.
Kenobi was deaf?
That… that wasn’t right…
Slowly, Obi-Wan picked up his datapad again and threw Bruck a nervous
look as he tucked it against his chest before he gave Eerin’s tunic
a little tug. “Bant, lets go to the library…please?” He
whispered, his voice coming out all… wrong.
The Mon calamari nodded and took his hand, following her friend out
while throwing Bruck one last angry glance.
And for those who prefer their stories not as captions:
was sitting his desk, idly thumbing through the latest reports from
the Asian companies he worked with. “Why do these god darn gooks
have to be so productive?” he said to no-one, wondering if he could
do something else to hang onto his job. He’d got to the head of a
computing firm by basically being pretty good at IT and being
subversively racist by either elbowing fellow competitors at the firm
out of the way or setting up non-white managers for a fall. He’d
hidden his real views well but still didn’t trust anybody who wasn’t
white and male.
grunted as the clock swung past the end of his shift and decided to
head straight back home. There was a game tonight and, with his
trophy wife away at the beach house for a couple of weeks, he could
watch without her “inane commentary”.
he was opening up his car, she appeared almost out of nowhere. Some
wizened, half-bent over Chinese – or maybe Japanese, Gary didn’t
care – and wanted change or something. Usually he’d have just
shooed her away but he was hungry and eager to get home so promptly
opened the car door into her side, forcing her to the ground. Sliding
in he ignored her plaintive cries and fired the engine up. The last
he saw was a weak fist being waved at him in the rear view mirror and
some words he didn’t understand.
long to go,” he checked his car’s clock as he slid into his
driveway. Bounding up the steps, he slammed the door and reached to
flick on the TV. The game had just started and he slipped a beer from
the fridge next to the chair, ramped up the volume and settled in.
must have caused his to doze off because partway through the game his
eyes seemed to just slide shut and his breathing became deeper. That
was when the glow started to form around his body, something shifting
about him as parts of Gary’s body began to change in unnatural ways,
his skin softening as his muscles weakened, his chest rising further
than it could before in places even as his waist drew in and his
doorbell bonged. Gary shook his drowsy head and tried to remember
what was going on. The TV was just playing out the post-match
analysis and he realised he must have dozed off. He bent forward to
get up and stopped, stunned. Around his waist was a massive, poofy
black skirt…or rather the bottom of some black dress, with a large
white big at the front. He reached to poke it, wondering what it was,
when he stopped again. The hand in front of his eyes looked alien. It
was small, slim, no hair on the arm which was bare. And the nails
were coated in a sleek pink polish. He raised it in front of him and
marvelled at what he saw. He reached with his other hand, ignoring
that it looked the same, and poked at the first hand before pinching
he yelped, feeling the pain. They were definitely his hands! He was
about to explore further when the doorbell bonged again. And again.
Not thinking straight but knowing someone was at the door, Gary hoped
off the chair, missing that he was a good foot shorter, and bounced
to the front door, opening it before realising that it might not be
the best idea.
at LAST Chun, did you go deaf or something?” sighed a fairly
annoyed looking guy in his mid-forties. Without waiting, he pushed
past a startled looking Gary who then scurried to keep up with the
man as he strode towards the kitchen.
but, but…” was all Gary could say and the man stopped suddenly,
almost leading to Gary crashing into his back. “Chun, I told you
before – when I don’t want you to talk, you don’t say ANYTHING, got
it? Otherwise you’ll be on the first plane back to god knows where
and without ANY money, kapish?”
shut up, he didn’t know what was going on but he felt like he
shouldn’t talk back and instead fell silent, arms behind his back as
the man rifled through the mail on the counter and then flicked on
his phone to check something or other. While that was happening, Gary
stole a look in a mirror fridge magnet on the side of the unit and
almost gasped. Looking back at him wasn’t the same white guy from
before. He had the strong Asian features of an attractive Chinese
woman. His slanted eyes and long, brown-dyed hair led down to a maid
dress which stretched from shoulders to mid-thigh, bulging out over a
pair of sizeable breasts before drawing in around his waist. All his
male features were gone and instead was the look of fear growing in
he’d failed to notice was the man moving behind him and, just as Gary
realised ALL of his body was now female, he felt the man’s hand slip
under his dress and two fingers slip into his pussy. Gary stiffened
at the shock and then almost collapsed as the man rubbed his new
clitoris, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Gary.
now Chun, don’t go passing out on me before we’ve had some fun,”
the man grinned, his hand sliding back out of her to reach for his
zip, “be a good little maid an bend over the counter.”
didn’t like how this was going but didn’t know what else to do and,
before he could resist, he felt the man’s hand press on his back and
he was leaning over the counter, even as he felt the air on his
bottom, with the skirt being flipped up by the man.
he’d felt pleasure before, that was as nothing compared to what he
felt as something was suddenly thrust into his newly acquired vagina,
a something that was clearly a cock when it was pulled back, almost
out of him, and then shoved back in. Stars burst across Gary’s vision
as two hands clamped onto the front of his dress and, when he felt
his nipples being tweaked he would have collapsed to his feet had not
the man’s dick been thrusting into him. He felt something new
building inside of him, almost like a wave which seemed to come from
all points of his body as pleasure centres exploded in his brain
man grunted and Gary felt a hot liquid shoot into his insides as the
cock was pulled back from his pussy. The wave started to fade as the
man zipped his pants up, slapped his ass hard and lent in close:
“Just our secret Chun. Now, back to your cleaning and we’ll see if
you can put a good shine on my knob later.”
patted Gary’s head and left. Gary bit his lip. He felt used now and
could feel what he assumed had been his first female orgasm drifting
away and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was he was in what
was once his house, in a strange female body and couldn’t tell anyone
anything as, who’d believe him….and, worst case, he could be
he heard footsteps coming back, Gary reached for a feather duster. If
anything, he was trapped and, unless he could work out how this had
happened, he was stuck as some rich guy’s maid…
The sparring culture in HEMA really aggravates me. I always see people venerate sparring and tournaments as the pinnacle of skill - even seeing people from different clubs recommend having people come in and spar on the first day.
I first started looking at the sources in 2009. At this point in time the ARMA was still a bit relevant, at least to someone with no clout in the community like me.
Anyone who’s watched John Clements for more than ten minutes can probably figure out that his language is tinted with a weird strain of hatred for Traditional martial arts.
It seems to me, at least in America, that there are a few key reasons that HEMA involves so much sparring.
1. Western Pragmatism dictates we need something by which we can objectively grade a subjective quality - i.e. fighting skill, so we may test and experiment with things (If you can’t make your interpretation work in sparring, it may need work).
2. A strong aversion to Bullshido where “masters” hide behind stupid reasoning and refuse to prove themselves. Bullshido very obiously isn’t a uniquely american phenomenon but it takes strong precedence in a country where you have lots of people with the time and money to afford martial arts practice but live in a society too far removed from the source of a discipline and too ethno-culturally divided for meaningful exchange of high level abstract ideas across cultures.
3. By association, a strong aversion to traditional martial arts that do little or no sparring, because by association we can conclude that if A) sparring is a direct quantifier of skill and B) Bullshido assholes refuse to spar because it would betray their image, then C) Traditional martial arts must all be bullshit because they refuse to come out into the open to verify their skills in sparring.
Oh and let’s not forget
4. I’M A MANLY MAN AND I NEED TO HIT THINGS TO FEEL LIKE A MAN YEAH LONGSWORD UNF UNF UNNNNNNNFFF (but we’ll talk more about this later).
The internet was full of this rhetoric in the early ‘10s.
I’m not here to explain why various martial arts may not spar (that’s a post for another time, maybe tomorrow), but here’s the thing. Plenty of martial arts DO spar, or at the very least have non-choreographed highly-resistant free-form practice (the difference being it may be more of a restricted ruleset than sparring, or have a different training method or goal).
The thing is, many of them wait a long, LONG time (compared to hema-ists) before they start sparring. Oftentimes years before anything coming close the intensity of a HEMA tournament.
I’ll relinquish some information about myself. I practice Wing Chun. I wasn’t allowed to even watch people play Chi Sao for the first year or so. It wasn’t until after my first year (about 14-15 months) that I was allowed to start Chi Sao. I’m approaching 3 years of completed training. It’ll probably be at least another year or two (possibly longer) before I can look at Chi Geuk and a few years after that until I’ll be able to look at full contact, upper and lower body sparring.
Is that necessarily the right way to do things? that’s not up to you or me to decide. However, what I will say is this:
Sophisticated martial arts systems require constant dedication and practice to become fluent in.
Sophisticated techniques require months if not years of practice to be able to fluidly apply under pressure.
The addition of lethal weapons to a combat system further sophisticates the system as now extra dynamics must be taken into account.
Systems of weapon combat then naturally require years of training before a student is readily able to actually apply what they’ve learned (beyond the basics) in a high-pressure, dynamic context - and by apply, I mean cleanly - the right place at the right time.
It is true the overall skill level in HEMA is increasing. It is true you are starting to see more techniques in tournaments - however this is primarily only visible amongst the HEMA elite - the people who’ve already been doing this for a decade or more who get paid to teach seminars around the country/world.
Go look at an international HEMA tournament. Then watch an international karate tournament, an international kudo tournament, kendo, BJJ, sanda, Olympic-style fencing. Then ask yourself if handing a student a sword on day one
(or even on day 150)
and shoving them into sparring is a good idea.
Sparring is a skill. Two people with no unarmed experience engaging in a fun little back-and-forth aren’t sparring. They’re rough-housing. A couple of newbie sword students going at each other aren’t sparring. They’re rough-housing with swords. And that’s what I see in tournaments.
And of course, please know - I am also shitty at HEMA sparring - because I do not practice as much as I should ;) But I will at least be the first to admit to my own inadequacy here.
Whisper of Hope : Christopher Haigh // Blue Lips : Regina Spektor // Pipes : Tom Milsom // Forgiven : City of the Fallen // Cut Your Teeth : Kyla La Grange // I Hope I Become A Ghost : The Deadly Syndrome // I Still Have A Soul :
Gabriel Shadid, Tobias Marberger // Help Me Close My Eyes : Those Dancing Days // Retrograde : James Blake // Sunshine (Adagio in D Minor) : John Murphy // White Winter Hymnal : Pentatonix // All I Want : Kodaline // Thursday : Asbestoscape // The World (Is Going Up In Flames) : Charles Bradley & Menahan Street Band
李純 as Imperial Noble Consort Ling, Wei Yan Wan, with her on-screen daughter, on the set of Legend of Ruyi 如懿传
It’s a miracle! An on-set photo that doesn’t have the costumes blurred out or obscured!! And oh my god, that whole look is gorgeous! This might end up one of my favourite costumes, up there with Hua Fei’s pink and purple outfit in Legend of Zhen Huan.