Pressure Kung Fu

While most kids were playing cops and robbers, or cowboys and indians…

Pow. I got you.
Nah-uh.
Uh-huh.
Nah-uh.
I got you in the shoulder.
Nah-uh.
Pow. I got you now.
You cheated, I'm telling mom.

…my brothers and I were playing a different kind of pretend.

NOT doctor, you sicko freak.

Our imaginations were fueled by the Chinese serials and movies our mother rented. Most of these involved mystical acts of martial arts, well before Crouching Tiger and Hidden Dragon made an impact on the US market. Battles of death were fought in dazzling displays of aerial acrobatics with discharges of lightening from palms and shockwaves pounded into the ground with bare fists. Boulders were thrown at one's enemy if enough energy and force of will were directed into it. Inexorably, such feats of strength were excruciating on the body. How long a combatant lasted and how unfazed he/she was, was a testament to their skill and experience. Usually, the one winning would be laughing, stroking his fu manchu and monologuing to his opponent, about their apparent weakness and inability.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Continuing. What's surprising was that much of the combat involved no physical impact. True, there was plenty of blocking, but any real contact out the ordinary, a palm to the chest, meant certain defeat. The stricken combatant would be "poisoned" by the fierce attack and their martial arts skills disrupted.

Having seen these displays, my brothers and I would re-enact them. Thus, you'd find us throwing ourselves around, as if we were struck by what we liked to refer to as "pressure kung fu." It never involved any hitting. Actual hitting would always lead to some objection and disagreement.

Smack!
Ow. That really hurt! SMACK!
HEY! I didn't mean to hurt. SMACK BACK.
OW. ::JUMP::
::CHOKE::
Mom intervenes.

No. Pressure kung fu involved no actual hitting. Instead it was a lot of gesturing and pretend. Each palm strike would pressurize the air between the palm and the opponent, solidifying it and striking them. WHAM. My brothers or I happily took the impact as we threw ourselves onto the soft bed or couch, feigning gross, massive internal injury. Ah, to pass the days. My grandmother eventually got fed up with us jumping around on the beds and told us to stop. Still, it was fun.

Watching Kung Fu Hustle, I was reminded of these playtimes my brothers and I had, such wholesomeness. The movie itself is a great time, and I'd certainly recommend it. Be sure to keep your childlike imagination on hand, to really enjoy it.

I do wish I did know some real pressure kung fu, I'd perform the "Air Biff" any chance I'd get.