The successful use of violence could not be simpler: In every instance there is, amid the chaos, a sudden moment where everything changes, where one person recoils, or begins to grow visibly weaker, or drops to the ground. And then the winner takes advantage of that lapse to finish it. That magic moment is the hands-on version of a bullet in the brain—a serious loss of function, some important piece of anatomy getting broken so it doesn’t work anymore.
The hard part is figuring out how to actually get that result. It’s one thing to watch videos of beatdowns and murders over and over again—all the while wishing you could win like that when your life was on the line—and another thing entirely to figure out how to train for it.
We’ve spent our entire careers working on this single problem, determining just what makes untrained criminal violence so effective, and then distilling that information down into something that anyone can learn, practice and use.
What We Do
1. We identify the habits of dangerous people
2. We codify those habits to make them trainable
3. We show you how to replicate those habits, and by extension, their outcomes (success in violence)
Replicating those habits is a purely mechanical process, meaning, all you have to do is “go through the motions” and mimic what dangerous people do in criminal violence. While many of us may have countless conflicting thoughts and feelings on the matter, the good news is that thinking and feeling have nothing at all to do with it. If you connect with something hard enough to break it, it will break—even if you’re terrified, outraged or completely numb. All that matters is the doing.
The physical training itself is a straightforward process of walking through those motions, building toward the ability to model successful violence—seeing what dangerous people see, going where they would go, and doing what they would do—with your own hands, before your own eyes.
A Mechanical Process
1. “Target Assembly” to learn the locations of important anatomical features, and methods for breaking them
2. “Free Practice” to stitch it all together (break one thing, then another, and another, and so on until you’re done)—modeling a beatdown
3. Free-form serial target practice (ongoing Free Practice sessions) to teach yourself how to stop the human machine, drop it, and shut it off
By the end of this process you will have hands-on experience with what success in violence looks and feels like, having done it over and over again to rewire your brain for action. Not fighting but delivering a beatdown; not “self-defense” but attack & injure. This mechanical experience is what makes you dangerous.
A typical point of confusion in this process occurs when someone looks at a single instance of Target Assembly in isolation—say, a strike to the side of the neck to cause unconsciousness—and mistakes that for the whole of what we’re up to. It’s akin to looking at one small piece of a program for race car drivers, perhaps the part that describes where to put your hands on the wheel, and judging it insufficient for competition in NASCAR. Clearly, you would be correct. But add in all those other bits about using the accelerator, the clutch, the brake, etc., etc., until you’re free to drive around the track and see how it all fits together—well, now we’re on to something. And so it is with the progression from all the various pieces of Target Assembly into Free Practice. It’s not one-and-done with a single move or technique, it’s about getting you to the point where you can make decisions and move like a dangerous person would.
Our goal is not to teach you how to fight or even to use “self-defense”—our goal is to make you dangerous. Period. As dangerous as the last person who had to use this training: When she found herself picked up off her feet from behind she knew she couldn’t get to her concealed carry, so she struck him the neck as hard as she could—and when he dropped her she took the time to break his leg. This happened not because of technique or skill but because she was dangerous.
Outcomes like this are why we do what we do—they’re the purpose of the entire experience, and the only reason we’re here.