Namaste, Motherfucka!

After a crapulent last few months I'm on a regimen of Krav Maga and Bikram yoga. The different philosophies of these two forms are making me feel like I have a split personality, though, because when I'm at Krav Maga punching or kicking the bag or extricating myself from a stranglehold it's all, "Die, motherfucker, die!!!" and when I'm at yoga it's all about serenity, peace, acceptance and attaining one with the Divine.

If anything, I hope that my yoga practice will mitigate some of the effects of Krav Maga and that I'll reach the beautiful equilibrium of the peaceful warrior. I've noticed that my daydreams have become a lot more violent since I started back on Krav Maga and I'm not sure if it's such a good thing to have physical violence in my repertoire of responses. Not that I would ever go around spoiling for a fight - Krav Maga, or at least what I'm learning at my level, is all about defense - smashing a groin or gouging an eye and then beating a hasty (cowardly) retreat.

And at least I'll have a fighting chance when the zombies come. World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War is the most exhilarating thing I've read in years. Combining two special interests of mine, zombies and Studs Turkel style oral histories, it contains riveting accounts of how ordinary people from all over the world- a soccer mom, a Japanese computer hacker, a Lesotho township shanty town dweller, an Air Force pilot forced to parachute in the Atchafalaya swamp teeming with the hungry, living dead - all survived a zombie war in the near future. Highly recommended.