WHEN VIOLENCE IS THE ANSWER by Tim LARKIN
Usually I write about horror fiction. This time I’m writing about real-world horror and how author and self-termed “violence expert” Tim Larkin would have us prepare for it.
“Violence is rarely the answer, but when it is, it’s the only answer.”
Thus begins this fascinating self-defense book, in which Larkin discusses two types of violence: social aggression and asocial violence. Both are best avoided, but are far different in terms of lethal intent. Social aggression, as Larkin defines it, involves showy, chest-beating behavior (usually between males) and is basically a jockeying for position in the social hierarchy. Larkin stresses there’s only one intelligent way to deal with it. You back down, apologize for whatever the guy thinks you did, and buy him a drink. Better than a lawsuit for involuntary manslaughter or a lengthy hospital stay for yourself. In short, when it comes to these displays of male dominence, fighting is rarely worth it.
With asocial violence, on the other hand, there’s no talking your way out of it. It comes at you from behind at an ATM or in a dark parking garage, with a bigger, stronger, faster assailant who has no qualms about maiming or killing you. In fact, maiming and killing may be the goal.
For this kind of kill-or-be-killed situation, Larkin presents a wealth of anecdotes: the kind whre the good gal or guy triumphs in a terrifying situation and the kind where, tragically, the opposite occurs and the wrong person ends up in a puiddle of blood.
So how does the average Jane or Joe disable a much stronger attacker?
Larkin goes into great detail, with diagrams for good measure, about how all human bodies, nomatter how formidable-looking, are vulnerable to certain devastating injuries if the other person knows how to inflict those injuries and is able and willing to do so (a crushed trachea and gouged-out eyeball being two examples.)
In his classes, Larkin reports that seventy percent of the people who sign up only do so AFTER surviving a violent attack. The proactive student just wanting to be prepared is rare in his experience, and Larkin wants to change that. Aside from detailed explanations of how to crush, snap, and generally destroy various parts of an attacker’s body, he also offers some obvious but important tips: ditch the earbuds and put down the phone in public, listen to your intuition, and avoid the ATM after dark. Like jungle animals, we need our senses on high alert; the distracted are easy targets.
At the same time, Larkin himself comes across as a fundamentally non-violent sort who reminds the reader over and over that violence is the last resort, no matter how highly trained you may be.
“Violence is rarely the answer, but when it is, it’s the only answer.”
Thus begins this fascinating self-defense book, in which Larkin discusses two types of violence: social aggression and asocial violence. Both are best avoided, but are far different in terms of lethal intent. Social aggression, as Larkin defines it, involves showy, chest-beating behavior (usually between males) and is basically a jockeying for position in the social hierarchy. Larkin stresses there’s only one intelligent way to deal with it. You back down, apologize for whatever the guy thinks you did, and buy him a drink. Better than a lawsuit for involuntary manslaughter or a lengthy hospital stay for yourself. In short, when it comes to these displays of male dominence, fighting is rarely worth it.
With asocial violence, on the other hand, there’s no talking your way out of it. It comes at you from behind at an ATM or in a dark parking garage, with a bigger, stronger, faster assailant who has no qualms about maiming or killing you. In fact, maiming and killing may be the goal.
For this kind of kill-or-be-killed situation, Larkin presents a wealth of anecdotes: the kind whre the good gal or guy triumphs in a terrifying situation and the kind where, tragically, the opposite occurs and the wrong person ends up in a puiddle of blood.
So how does the average Jane or Joe disable a much stronger attacker?
Larkin goes into great detail, with diagrams for good measure, about how all human bodies, nomatter how formidable-looking, are vulnerable to certain devastating injuries if the other person knows how to inflict those injuries and is able and willing to do so (a crushed trachea and gouged-out eyeball being two examples.)
In his classes, Larkin reports that seventy percent of the people who sign up only do so AFTER surviving a violent attack. The proactive student just wanting to be prepared is rare in his experience, and Larkin wants to change that. Aside from detailed explanations of how to crush, snap, and generally destroy various parts of an attacker’s body, he also offers some obvious but important tips: ditch the earbuds and put down the phone in public, listen to your intuition, and avoid the ATM after dark. Like jungle animals, we need our senses on high alert; the distracted are easy targets.
At the same time, Larkin himself comes across as a fundamentally non-violent sort who reminds the reader over and over that violence is the last resort, no matter how highly trained you may be.
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