When you are  a child, you like to ask “comparative” questions. Who would win, Thor or the Incredible Hulk? Who is the faster draw, Wild Bill Hickok or Billy the Kid?

When you enter Kung Fu, especially at an early age, you often assume it’s like a huge board game with the styles pitted against one another. This is made worse by the mandatory recognition scenes in all old Kung Fu movies, “Spider style! You villain, taste the power of my Crab Fist.”

History does indeed have some of this rivalry, but styles often evolve in relative isolation, and frequently without any knowledge they were even styles.

Because they developed out of the folk consciousness of the people Kung Fu styles exhibit folk characteristics. Some have mythic origins with little verified background. Some grew out of an individual’s personal style. Many are hopelessly confused as to their own origins.

But every style I have ever seen has a special something, a certain weapon, a unique technique that makes it not only obvious why the style exists but also how it all works, almost its purpose.

There may, of course, be a lot of other reasons and treasures contained in the style, not just one, but even a single technique can be illuminating. The first time I saw the folding in Wing Chun, I saw the usefulness of the whole style. I have always been fascinated by the angular attack of the Praying Mantis system. And who can encounter the expansive power of Baji Quan without being impressed?

Some techniques are truly excellent. Occasionally they are so unusual you are surprised. Most often they are variations on common Kung Fu skills but re-thought and re-designed to offer new insight.

Let me record some styles which–in the years of reviewing all these products, talking to instructors and teaching my own students–have impressed me in one way or another. These are not the best known styles, no way. In fact some are poorly known and, though there are some English language DVDs of some of these, I liked many of them in their Chinese VCD versions. Here we go…

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PIGUA: Not just wide movements performed like an eagle but a perfect example of the power of softness. Its wing-like strikes, if you know how to use them, can be devastating. One unusual aspect of Pigua which it shares with White Crane (Lama) is that it strikes to the surface nerves on the skin, as well as bone, muscle and organs targeted by most Kung Fu. Tong Bei also fits this bill.

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TAIJI HU LEI JI style: THUNDER style: the explosive that really is explosive. The creation of power from the middle of relaxation. Beautiful examples of Kung Fu’s cotton and needle concept. Thunder style is one of the last Chen style creations of the early 20th century and possibly later. It not only explodes on each movement but, almost as impressive, it instantly and casually recovers to explode again. Not your Parks and Rec Tai Chi style.

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WEN SHANG: Often Taoist-inspired styles are so soft they are too soft and so free that they are not really free at all. Wen Shang has just a nice overall approach where you can actually see the relation of power to softness.

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LIU HE QUAN: Some styles have specialties like Baji Quan’s stomping. Some styles are just very integrated taking many concepts and blending them in a way you almost say, “Well, that covers all that stuff.” Liu He Six Harmony is one of those Qing dynasty styles during the hard times for Kung Fu where many ideas were agglutinated into a single style (see our piece on the expansion and contraction of the arts). We often forget how many styles which appear seamless were once an attempt to bring all sorts of styles under one tent: Praying Mantis, Shaolin, Choy Lai Fut and many others.

What can we really learn from a style? A lot. And you don’t even need to have studied it. Think of a scientist or a mathematician reading a technical paper. He’s trying to figure out a series of experiments and equations described in the paper. He is not familiar with them so it’s slow going. Halfway through the task he tosses down the report because the article has inspired a great, revelatory idea for a problem he has been working on. Should he continue reading the article? No! he’s gotten what he needs.

For me MiZong is a good example of this. It’s a big, great style but to be honest I’ve never seen a version that really satisfies my expectations. Sometimes you just know. And that is considering that I’ve seen some real experts like Alex Kwok demonstrate. But I’ve never seen the idea interpreted exactly as I imagine it.

However, I spent some time working with Joe Lewis and definitely was brought to understand the tremendous power of such deceptive skills as offset timing, angular change, or indeterminacy in the martial arts. When I practice my little Mi Zong I try to keep this “uncertainty principle” in mind. I try to do the movements of the form as though I were deciding on them in this unprogrammed instant. It has improved my technique through the years while I’ve enjoyed my search for the “perfect” MiZong. Meanwhile  the idea of the style stays with me, indeterminacy and change as an expression of strategy. No wonder there are people who wanted to see it as an “internal” style.