Sun Tzu - The Art of War

Sun Tzu - The Art of War

The link

The Art of War on Goodreads

What it is

“The Art of War” is an ancient Chinese text on military strategy written by Sun Tzu. Sun Wu, a Chinese general of renown from the 6^th century B.C., is often credited as the man behind ‘Sun Tzu’, but the exact origin of the text is stilldebated. It is entirely plausible that the text evolved over a period of time; the earliest version of the full text we now know as the “The Art of War” has been dated to 200-100 B.C.

Inannotated translation, the book is less than 100 pages. I reread it in an hour before writing this blog post (full disclosure: I did skip some of the anecdotes).

There are many English translations available; I haven’t made a study of which is best (my own copy was a gift). Just keep in mind the text is two thousand years old, and that Sun Tzu uses the occasional metaphor or exaggeration to make his point.

What it means to me

What can we learn from an ancient text on warfare, which dedicates separate chapters to terrain, to using fire, and to spies? Quite a lot, it turns out.

Early on, Sun Tzu writes that “If you know yourself and know your enemy, you need not fear the outcome of a hundred battles”. He contrasts this with only knowing yourself, in which case “you will suffer a defeat for every victory”. Needless to mention, not knowing either is a sure way to ruin. A large part of Sun Tzu's philosophy (explicitly outlined in the chapter on logistics) is that war is costly, draining, and fundamentally wasteful. This is why he advocates foreknowledge and striking only when you need to.

In fact, Sun Tzu wants to be so prepared that he doesn’t need to do battle, but that his superior position convinces his enemy to surrender instead: “the victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won” (emphasis mine).

Sun Tzu really doesn’t like a fair fight, and advocates strongly against (literally) straightforward clashes of armies, because there’s no advantage to be gained anymore once you commit to such a battle. Better to bluff, to maneuver and to ambush; that gives you control over your fate. To quote the master: “All warfare is based on deception”. This includes disobedience of your own sovereign – “The Art of War” is adamant on splitting civil and military command.

Sun Tzu really teaches two things:

1. Be prepared
2. Break the rules

These fundamentals can be applied to anything. “The Art of War” saw a resurgence in popularity in 1980’s corporate boardrooms, where the military metaphors held up quite well to beating the competition. Most of us, however, lead a life without a single large enemy to focus our attention on. Sun Tzu can teach us that conflict is costly, and that decisions need to be committed to fully. Like G.Richard Shell, Sun Tzu emphasizes preparation, and critical thinking: never come to the field of battle on anyone’s terms but your own.

In a recent work related conversation, I was discussing whether to choose one thing or another. My counterpart told me I was looking at it wrong: the full set of options was much larger than just two. Why was I deliberately constraining myself? What could I find outside of the ‘conventional’ rules?

Sun Tzu is still very relevant, two thousand year later.


Leonard

(This is the first entry in a series of three reviews of famous works of Eastern Martial Philosophy. The second is Miyamoto Musashi – A Book of Five Rings ; the third one is Yamamoto Tsunemoto’s “Hagakure”.

Samurai Pizza Cats

Samurai Pizza Cats

                   

The link

“Samurai Pizza Cats” intro on YouTube

Episode 1, part 1 on YouTube

Episode 1, part 2 on YouTube

"Samurai Pizza Cats" DVD Collection on Amazon

The YouTube links are fan uploads; as far as I know, there are no official ones.

What it is

“Samurai Pizza Cats” is a mid-nineties children’s cartoon adapted from the Japanese “Kyatto Ninden Teyandee”. It’s best known for its complete irreverence to things like plot and character development, its dense pop culture references and its obliteration of the fourth wall.

It’s very, very nineties, and probably best described as an anime version of Animaniacs, with the same 'slapstick meets meta-humor' appeal.

What it means to me

The single most brilliant thing about Samurai Pizza Cats is something you can't know from watching the show itself: when the series was going to be dubbed for American release, the dubbing team had very, very little to work with. Stories vary: there either were no translations for the Japanese audio, or the audio reels themselves had gone missing. Either way, only the visuals were available.

The translators responded by making the whole thing up.

It’s hilarious to rewatch the show with this informaion in the back of your mind. You can play along as the translation team tries to make sense of everything that happens on the screen, and ties  it into what they’ve made up before. And it’s not like the show makes it easy: there are pizza delivering cats in armor who perform heroic deeds after being shot out of a giant revolver, a princess with an anti-aircraft battery in her hair, and an evil fox advisor with private army of ninja crows.

And with all that wacky in the visuals, the dubbing team still managed to double down. To name some highlights, there are episodes where:

• …everyone fights for a MacGuffin in a box, which is never shown. This MacGuffin is promptly named the “nuclear potato”.
• …the narrator quits halfway through, as he claims to be underpaid.
• …the regular plot of fighting the villain comes second, as the main characters are mainly bickering about whose uncle has written the script for the episode.

So-called ‘fan-dubs’ of TV series, anime and/or news commentary are quite popular these days, especially on YouTube. “Samurai Pizza Cats” is essentially the first fandub … that was aired on national television across Africa, Europe, Asia and the Americas.

For me, “Samurai Pizza Cats” stands as a testament that restrictions really do breed creativity. If you’re open minded enough you can always accomplish something with the tools you’re given, and occasionally that somethng will be unlike anything else. The Japanese creators have actually come out to say they prefer the English version.

It also stands as a testament that I will always enjoy fourth wall breaking in comedies.

Leonard

“Destino”

“Destino”

The link

“Destino” on Youtube

“Destino” on Wikipedia

What it is

“Destino” is an animated short by Disney and Salvador Dali. It was originally written and storyboarded in 1945, but cancelled due to Disney’s financial difficulties at the time. Work on the film started again in 1999, following its discovery during the making of Fantasia 2000. “Destino” was finished in 2003, 58 years after its inception.

It’s six and a half minutes long, and it’s gorgeous.

What it means to me

I should put a spoiler warning here, but “Destino” is so impressionistic I’m not sure it matters. Anyway, it’s less than seven minutes. Just watch it!

Who would have thought that Disney and Dali would ever collaborate? One is a an entertainment juggernaut with the power to write copyright law, the other is best known for painting melting clocks and appearing in photographs with thrown cats.

The imagery of the video is much more Dali than Disney. It does have Disney’s sense of timing and animation quality (even if the animation is oddly choppy in places, is that an artistic statement or bad Youtube encoding?). The interaction of music and visuals is very well done, and reminds me of the better Fantasia shorts.

Ultimately, “Destino” is about the surreal world it envelops you in. It doesn’t really push any technical boundaries, it isn’t looking to make a point or to teach you anything. It’s just six minutes of really pretty imagery, and it completely delivers on the “what if Dali and Disney collaborated?” elevator pitch.

“Destino” is so enjoyable to re-watch because it’s unapologetically just about the experience that it creates.  No matter how often I watch it, I still get goosebumps when the shadows of the dancer and the bell flow together. The first time I saw that I actually gasped out loud. The complex, associative imagery also allows you to find new interpretations each time.

“Destino” is inspiring by sheer overwhelming “look at that!” factor. I’m really happy this little pocket of weird exists, and even happier that I managed to find it. Now you can be happy about it, too.

Leonard

Do it for five minutes

“Do it for five minutes”

                   

The link

Online stopwatch set at 5 minutes (customizable as well)

5:00 countdown video, with starting beeps! (Youtube)

Related post on 'listening for five minutes', by Jason Fried, co-founder of Basecamp

What it is

“Do it for five minutes” is a motivational technique to help you get started on tasks you don’t feel like. The rules are very simple:

• Start working on whatever the task is, in earnest. No slacking.
• Work for at least five minutes.
• If you get stuck at any time after those five minutes, stop and save your work. Go do something else.

I can’t for the life of me recall where I heard of this technique, which is why the links are mostly timers. Googling didn’t help either. If you happen to know where this approach comes from or have seen it before, please get in touch!

What it means to me

It can be difficult to start something from scratch, particularly if you’ve convinced yourself in advance that it’s going to be difficult. I love the five minutes trick, because it does two things for me:

1. Allowing myself to quit later on makes it easier to get started, so I actually do something. It removes fear of failure by focusing on the process.
2. I generate output of some kind, which I can then refine into something better.

Of all the times I started something ‘for five minutes’, I’ve used the five minute exit exactly once.  Once I have started I can usually sustain my motivation, and my mind starts making connections and moving forward. I usually either end up with a finished product (document, analysis, e-mail), or with something that’s at least a comprehensive whole and just needs some editing afterwards. Output you can revise and improve is infinitely better than no output.

An embarrassing number of my blog entries start with the three part blog template, an empty browser window, and a subject. Then I have to convince myself to do something with it – for five minutes. I typically write blog posts in two sessions: one brain dump/research session, which ends with some paragraphs and some bullet points of topics I want to include, and a revision/editing session on Monday right before I publish.

Similarly, I’m famous at work for writing early drafts and having people comment on them as soon as possible. I find that it is much easier to brainstorm with some input than with an entirely blank sale – I’ll usually lead such sessions with “this is what I’ve got, feel free to change anything and everything”. Nothing sparks debate quite like disagreeing with somebody else’s writing.

The next time you have trouble getting started, close the door, pull up some happy rain sounds, and just start. For five minutes.

The Barbican Estate

The Barbican Estate

                   

The link

The Barbican Estate on Wikipedia

City of London information page on the Barbican Estate

The Barbican Estate on Google Maps

What it is

The Barbican Estate is a residential area built in London in the 1960-70’s, during the rebuilding of the city after its bombing in World War II. It is an example of Brutalist architecture, an architectural movement that is big, blocky, and (as the name suggests) rather unsubtle. The estate is still in use today.

What it means to me

I found the Barbican when I was strolling around in London, being stuck in a hotel room for a few days for work. I love walking around in large structures and spent quite a lot of time wandering around the Barbican grounds. They’re quite large: the estate connects three residential flats as well as public facilities, such as the London Museum,  a public library and the Barbican Centre for the Arts. The area spans no less than five London Underground stations.

For all the ‘brute’ in ‘brutalism’, I found the estate surprisingly gentle. It’s functional, but not dogmatically so: there are green areas, lots of nooks and crannies to explore, and the space makes a great use of elevation and layers to hide pathways and to continuously change the view. Brutalism comes back in just how big the buildings are, and how it makes you feel. The Barbican is bigger than you in a very self-confident way. It makes space for you, and at the same time doesn’t mind letting you know that you’re not its main priority.

The best way to describe the feeling I got there was ‘pre-apocalyptic’, as a sort of precursor of ‘post-apocalyptic’. Science fiction with a ‘big catastrophe’ theme will often show ruined cities overgrown with plants to emphasise the impact their catastrophe of choice had; the Barbican Estate seems to almost look forward to that treatment. It’s going to make a great ruin someday, if only because it’s sturdy enough that large parts of it will hold up with no maintenance. I could almost see the overgrowth while walking through.

The Barbican Estate is a “Grade II” British Monument, so there's a good chance it will be around to see a Gibsonesque repurposing at some point. I’m already looking forward to that.