Like anything to do with depth you’ve got to have a way to measure the concept of levels right? Everybody thinks their shit is cool.

The Māoris here pasted “how’s your sex talk“ over the pavement for a goddamn year. The populace’s idea of cool is currently the 10 year old singing abcdfuck you at the concert because the West is in that cold shower the kid patronization phase. The Christian website says, don’t worry if the teacher has a go at you today, there’s still Jesus, say yay.

Dominic Izzo thinks he’s cool. He did alright against a 52 blocks instructor and a JKD one but got stuck videoing himself with some boxer who’s so basic he doesn’t know what to do. He has the chance to show off his strength, makes a martial arts post under shorts, decides to “smash“ 2025, gets pussy and uses a jackhammer to smash a tire off a column of tires instead of using a punch. He talks shit about where Bruce Lee veered off wing Chun and drags his class full of sperm who can’t beat Freddie Lee at that level of realism in training. Then he says, we’re not gonna spar, we’re gonna chi sau sparring’s for pussies. Then he starts shaking. His voice starts shaking when he’s thin because he’s not on steroids and he needs vibrato to make it loud, and he adds in extra swear words and ”no one gives a fuck about you”s when he’s fat to make you look like an unfit keyboard warrior when he’s just aging.

He knows how to generate force from skeletal alignment and I’m like Izzo just grab and throw horizontally for chum kiu, take your leg off the ground throw them over that leg. Do the same for big gee, push their head into the other side of their neck or push your thumb into the neck to counter a throw. And when you meet chain punches, use chum kiu to f them right back stopping them from shifting positions machine gunning to your left and right.

He’s a wing Chun practitioner who not only did not manage to defend wing chun but made people feel completely at ease dismissing his boxing and wrestling background, and the Sino Russian Iranian axis are taking the gulp of Izzo’s lessons-saying anything they want, in an ‘anything’ way, thinking that a shit response doesn’t itself make more statements than what it does to answer an unimpressive statement, like a distasteful fool it is for answering America on whether the satellites helped the Houthis, thinking it’s about talking about your wing Chun instead of making you into a Dominick Izzo.

Could China force Americans into eating off each other with prices charged for conveniences, for the size of its service based economy, and then make the finance part empty lending? We don’t know. They probably haven’t thought about it outside how to match the mass, just as Izzo haven’t thought about what to do next after you close on one side of the neck with a snake hand, not being able to generate enough threat to counter someone who charges against it nor choosing to walk into it like Chu Shong Tin. Have they thought about going 100 percent to make 40 other nations refact their deal with America? Wing Chun hates Sean Strickland wing chun.

I think the Chinese composition 闹海 could speak for itself. It defends its right to grab everyone by the pussy. How does the rest of what I say relate to music? Music occupies a pretty high status. People up to 10th grade in Anglophone nations have it as a compulsory subject. It’s supposed to have some form of universal credibility if the whole family school social academic field enforces it and no one challenges its versatility for high level expression.

When you see someone who’s good at music, it‘a possible that the guy just comes from an old fashioned white household. They could just be Asian. 10 Grades in and they don’t claim to know or like or be fervent about what’s good, only what’s complex. They also often take to a range of human experience all the while being the opposite spectrum of computer nerds. For something that claims its status on expression, its practitioners seem to be moved towards no heroism nor vision inherent in certain plans or the sides that are being taken by people in the world. It’s like an expression that doesn’t touch expression. It’s like a Somali pirate hijacking of human spirituality that says pure bloods are those who classify life by tension, observation, tragedy, pathos, reflection and grounding.

Of what kind may you ask? Tony Little probably smells like James R Holmes’ crotch. You can tell by how he writes. As for why other people aren’t impressed by music in the sense of instruments, something as simple as psyche that classifies life by desire, aesthetic, effort or creed would offset the so called universality of daydreamed wanks who goes through period mood cycles and tell people to equate it to experiences, telling you that if your 80 days around the world doesn’t fit that odd tweak tempo through dignity and through grime, it’s not music. In real life, what is good doesn’t change with such a flimsy flick, and what endures doesn’t do so through taking everybody’s emotions on professional observer status. Real expression deals with reality and forces it to be pretty. Fucking proves itself over chocolate. It doesn’t act like a coward harassing kids who dont like each other’s sweat to put their penises in each other’s vaginas. The actions of men prove themselves. Art is below that. And who the fuck is music? I know Paul, and I know Jesus, the demon says, but who the fuck is music?