When We Almost Died at the Grand Canyon (Part II)

Being the overly ambitious young men that we are, we decided to hike down to the very bottom of the canyon. And of course, being the smart college graduates that we are, we decided to start our hike very early the next morning. It was 5.30 am when we left our tent. On the very beginning of the trail, we saw a huge-ass warning sign. It had a big picture of a tough, Rambo-look alike guy who could probably kick all our asses at once, even in his sleep. To the best of my memory, the sign says something like this (not an exact quote):

(Next to the picture of the tough guy) WARNING: Think you’re a tough guy? He did too. But last year we had to rescue 1,667 guys that looked like him by helicopter from the canyon. It could potentially be dangerous to hike down to the bottom of the canyon. If you decide to do so, please obey the following restrictions:

1. DO NOT, in any case, attempt to hike down the canyon and make your way back in one day. Instead make your way down, and camp at the Indian’s Garden campsite near the bottom before continuing your journey up.
2. DO NOT attempt the hike when the sun is up. Continue your hike only before the sun rises in the morning or after the sun sets in the afternoon.
3. Drink A LOT of water, even though you are not thirsty.
4. DO NOT swim on the river in the bottom of the canyon.

Failure to abide to these restrictions can be dangerous and even fatal. Signed: Grand Canyon Park Rangers.

A very strong warning indeed. Most people would probably go and heed the warnings. But not us. Back then, I was young, stupid, and lacked the capacity for common sense reasoning. What choice did I have? I ended up breaking every single one of the restrictions above.

I was not anywhere near the tip-top conditions of the Iron man triathlons specimens, but even I can say the hike down was relatively easy. We got to the very bottom of the grand canyon in about 4 hours time. My bloated ego started to make me think that the Park Rangers were just bunch of pansies. Either that or they were just trying to scare us to make them look “cool” (That was stupid, I know). So much for the so-called “dangers” and “fatal” warnings. Hmpff. Bunch of sissies. Right. Fate would soon force-feed me those words later that day. The rangers were NOT screwing around with the said warning. I am glad that I am still alive today. This experience had made me a better person.

(We were barbaric, I know...)

Much to my surprise, we found a very big river on the bottom of the canyon. It was a very hot summer day. The water was very cool. I can feel the sun burning my skin. I looked at the sun. I touched the water. It felt very tempting. I looked around. The water was now up to my knees. It felt so good. I imagined how great it would be to submerge my body in the cool water. I remembered the warning against swimming in the river. I hesitated. I looked at my buddies. Bastards. They were already swimming. I then proceeded to throw all cautions into the wind and joined them. It was AWESOME. The feeling of cool water touching my mildly sun-burned body was electrifying. Nothing dangerous seemed to happened in the river. I was even more certain now that the rangers were sissies. Later, of course, I found out that the river sometimes have strong under-currents that have been known to drown unsuspecting visitors.

We spent about two hours alternating between swimming, fighting off squirrels that tried to steal our lunch donuts and taking pictures. Feeling satisfied, we decided to hike back up at a little before noon. And this was when my suffering began. Well, for starters, it was now so very, very, HOT. I did not realize this when I was still in the river. Had we ate a can of beans, the heat is probably enough to ignite our gasses and turn us into human time bombs. It was also very dry. Everywhere I saw, there were only sands, dirt, rocks, hills, shrubs and cactus. It then suddenly occurred to me why Grand Canyon is classified as a sub-dessert.

To be continued….

When We Almost Died at the Grand Canyon (Part I)

Too much of deep, life changing philosophical thinking is making my IQ drop at an alarming rate. This is dangerous. Especially in the morning. From when I just got up until about lunch time, my IQ is at a dangerously low point. It is roughly equal to half of my normal level. This morning, my level of IQ is already close to 30-35 on most IQ measurement scale. Most people would consider it a crime to have an IQ this low. Therefore I should stop rambling about philosophical wisdom before my IQ reaches a new low and turn me into a full-blown retard. Instead I will recall a distant memory of a week in the summer after my college graduation. This happened in the summer of 2004 (July), which now makes me feel so old…

We had just finished college. We were, once again, free men, no longer chained to our desks and our massive textbooks, some of which, I can assure you, were large enough to be considered as the weapon of death in many homicide cases. To celebrate this momentous event, three of us, myself, my long time college roommate which also is a very good buddy of mine, and another friend of ours that due to reasons I won’t mention in this entry, will be referred to as the Catman, decided to drive halfway across the country to the gambling capital of the world, Las Vegas, the Sin City itself. Along the way we would stop at Colorado and at one of the America’s wonders: The Grand Canyon.

Long story short, because we were (and I still very much am) such cheap bastards, instead of renting the guest houses, we camped at the Grand Canyon. We slept in a tent under the mighty sky and had to cook our food on the campfire in total darkness. The tent was rather small for three adults, especially when one of which was 2 meters tall. For some reasons beyond me, that night the Catman acted weirder than he usually does. Make no mistakes, he is already a relatively weird guy by most standards (Catman, if you happen to read this, don’t get mad. You still hold a very special spot in my heart). He was very restless and kept tickling my friend and I over our sleeping bags. Then he stole my pillow. Then he tried to instigate a pillow fight. Then he tickled me again. I had hypothesized that he was probably possessed by the spirit of an ancient Egyptian cat-goddess infused with distemper. I can only suppose cabin fever had also played a role.

I realize that I lack the capacity to enjoy some of nature’s beauty. Therefore I will refrain from making comments about the canyon besides the fact that it is HUGE beyond imagination. You cannot see the bottom of it. I have robust fear of falling from the top of its cliff. I guess that’s why it’s called the GRAND Canyon.

To be continued….

The Tao of Nose Picking… It will never be the same again

This is another one of those times when I am deeply immersed in my deep, world-shattering philosophical thought. The rest of the world is no longer relevant to me. But unlike last time, this time I was not taking a dump. Instead, I am doing something more constructive: picking my nose.

This activity never fails to clear my nasal cavity by eradicating the icky and sometimes sticky obstacles (but if you choose to engage in this satisfying yet addictive activity, please don’t wipe it on your shirt). This makes me a better man. I can now breathe fuller, more voluminous pollution-laden air, thereby sucking in more air-borne car fumes, dust, spit, chunks of dead insects, dog poopie and other unmentionables that saturate our fresh air, un-impended by the previously removed obstacles. Graphic, eh? Please kindly try not to think about it next time you breathe.

The next question that would naturally surface is what should you do with the loot (aka. mr. booger). I have a firm, non-negotiable policy, never to wipe it on my shirt. We all know, at some point during our childhood there exists a phase where we used to feed ourselves with these sticky stuff (and don’t you dare play righteous and prude with me, I know you’ve done it). Some people would liken the taste of it to that of the most expensive of caviar. Regardless of where you decide to land your catch, we all should engage in this activity more often. Collectively, we can make the world a better place.

Blazing Redfish

Edible Body Parts!!

I am not a cannibal, but people whose culinary tastes compel them to taste their own kind have claimed that human’s flesh is the tastiest of all meat. Apparently, people eating people have started to become a trend nowadays. There are black markets in third world countries selling body parts of traffic accident victims and homeless people that they picked from the street. The pictures here are taken using a secret camera by an undercover reporter.


JUST KIDDING GUYS! Those are not real body parts! But people do eat them. Those are made out of bread by a Thai art student. His creativity is beyond the outer realms of imagination of most normal people. Only his artistic skill can match his creativity. The bread tastes just like regular bread, so he says. This would make really good pranks.

Read the full coverage here.

Will you eat these breads? I am thinking of the best possible scenario to use them as pranks. Any creative ideas? And something to think about, if you have to eat the bread in the shape of a head like the above, how would you eat it? Which part do you savor first hehe? The lips? The ears? Maybe the nose. Hmm...

Blazing Redfish

Men are like Wine, Women are like Krispy Kreme…

Instead of the popular Mars/Venus or the Spaghetti/Waffle point of view, here’s a fresh one. Men are like wine. They ripen with age. The older men get, the more mature (and less childish) they are. The wiser they get. The more charismatic they are. The less shallow they become. The more money they have. And the more impotent they become. These are all the important qualities that younger women want in their older men for marriage. Thus, just like wine, they become more expensive with age. But of course, even for wine, there exists a point where it becomes too old and not drinkable, thus have to be cast aside before it poisons anyone.


Women, on the other hand, are like bread. Breads are best eaten when they are just out of the baking oven, when they are still warm and soft. Think of how good freshly baked Krispy Kreme tastes (and even better when it is the free sample). But if you put them on the table for too long, they get cold and mold will start to grow. Suddenly no one wants to eat them anymore, and they have to suffer a massive pay cut just to be sold. When women are young, beautiful and healthy, they are very demanding and idealistic. They want the perfect men. Brilliant, handsome, caring, sensitive, nice, and loaded. Not willing to settle for less, they waited for the perfect men. No one came knocking. They waited some more. Still no one. They lower their standards, and still no one. Eventually, they became desperate. Their parents nag, nosy relatives keep asking questions. At this point, instead for the perfect men, they will settle for any guys who are currently employed.

Ah, such crude analogy, yet it strikes a deep chord within us because it is so true…

Blazing Redfish

Thanks for the Comments

For those of you who have commented on my posts: I really appreciate all your comments. You are all justified in sleeping well at night. Some of you leave very insightful comments that have spurred interesting discussions between us. For those of you who somehow discovered this blog by other means besides my constant attempt to either persuade, cajole, bribe or coerce you to leave comments, here’s my chance to convert you: Please leave comments. I am sure some of my posts either engage your intellectual capacity or entertain you in some way. Often times, the posts also makes you think about rather “philosophical” issues or strike some strong feelings within you. Let us know what you think by leaving comments; make your presence known.

By leaving comments, you guys will not make me feel like a lunatic talking to myself. Rather, you will make me feel like a lunatic talking to an audience. The latter is far superior to the first. So, if my three-minute attempt at persuasion works, please leave your comments in English. Since some of the people that read this blog do not understand Bahasa Indonesia, only in dire life and death circumstances should you leave comments in Bahasa. They have communicated interests to partake in the discussions.

Thanks in advance,

Blazing Redfish

The Truth about the Birds and the Bees (Part III)

This is going to be the last “heavy” post for a while. And this one is dedicated to Mr. Agedashi Dofu. Let us pray that he will get his internet access back soon so he can comment on this. Anyways, I would like to assert the definition of “shallow” that applies to men also applies to women. Feministas, feel free to send me hate mails. Women also have a blueprint that triggers their attraction mechanism, and when they see certain qualities dictated by the blueprint, they can’t help but feel attracted.


Evolutionarily, the REAL female’s attraction blueprint is not men’s good looks, rather it is: MONEY, POWER, and FAME(status). Men that display these will appear much more attractive to virtually all women. Again, there are exceptions to every rule, including this one. But ladies, if you insist that you are the exception and that you ABSOLUTELY don’t care about a man’s money-making potential in selecting a prospective mate, you might very well be right. But please consider that the good science of probability and statistics are working against you. There are too many present day examples to mention, of beautiful women marrying Mr. Money solely for his moolah alone. This is the reason (money, power, and fame) why almost all professional soccer players and other athletes always land supermodels. This also explains the current trend in which a lot of women in most Asian countries would confer an instant celebrity status to any average Joe “bule” or Caucasian males. There is a mistaken assumption that anything that is “bule” will guarantee provision of a great deal of money, power, and fame (status). Okay, maybe it does give status.

Let me graphically prove the validity of my assertion. Ladies, consider an investment banker from a top Wallstreet firm such as Goldman Sach, young and successful in his career, with an MBA from Harvard University, working a very very prestigious and coveted elite cream of the crop job while making more money than he has time to spend. Extremely impressive qualifications indeed. He oozes power, money, and fame (status). He can afford all the nice attires (expensive shirts, shoes, ties) that make him look much better than he really does. And you can bet that when you meet this guy, in your eyes he will look a lot better, a lot more intelligent, and a lot more confident than he really is. Such is the Halo effect.He can also afford to buy you most of any romantic gifts that you desire. Flowers? Romantic dinners overlooking the city at night? Shiny trinkets? After all, isn’t diamond the women’s best friend? He can afford to take you to romantic vacations anywhere in the world. Paris? Venice? He can also afford to give your sons and daughters a very good life, as well as the legacy to Harvard Business School (If you marry him your children will have a better chance of getting accepted to Harvard because their father is an alumnus). And most importantly, he will be able to afford the money to send your children there. All your neighbors and your friends during your college reunion will be very envious of you. Simply by being his mate, you can rub shoulders with the society’s elite and enjoy a very high and coveted status.

Now take a minute to imagine that you are going on a blind date with him tonight. But BEFORE meeting him and without assuming any prejudice that he is full of all the negative qualities you can think of, how many percent of the battle that he has already won? Fifty percent? Sixty? Be honest. And I still haven’t mentioned personality and character. Even the most idealistic and virtuous of all women will still feel growing attraction for this man based on his money, power, and fame (status) ALONE. Most women can’t help but feel instinctual attraction to men with these qualities. The same effect occurs if we substitute that guy with the son of a tycoon, with his father’s money, power and fame, managing multiple companies. Can you honestly say that all the things I mentioned about him do not count? If yes, then you are the exception. Okay, now back to reality and there’s probably no blind date tonight. But to a great majority of women, men with those qualities will trigger attraction in women the same way that a beautiful, sexy, supermodel triggers attraction in men.

Of course, having all the above qualities is by no means a guarantee that the guy above will win the war. Sure, he could have won 60% of the battle by having money, power, and fame alone, but he could lose 80% of it by lacking all the other positive human virtues. I am not I saying that the above-mentioned trinity of qualities are the ONLY qualities most women look for in a man (there are some women who only use this as the sole criteria). For most women, they are not. Neither is physical beauty the ONLY quality most men look for in women. But let’s admit that they do play a major role. Let’s not kid ourselves, we all love money, power and fame. Bottom line, any guys with these qualities can attract as many women as they like, anywhere in the world, building their steady supply of harem. But the good news is, just as men’s affinity towards beautiful women, women’s affinity towards these can also definitely be overcome by some other traits that men can develop. And I would even further argue that it is a LOT easier to overcome women’s affection towards money, power and fame than it is to overcome men’s affection towards physical beauty.

Moral of the story:
In the end, the issue is not to debate who is shallower between men and women or which one is the “holier” gender. Instead, we should all accept that both men and women have built-in tendencies to be attracted towards certain qualities. Both genders do not have the option not to be drawn to these, since this is already imprinted in us for thousands of years. It is only human to have these tendencies. And instead of pointing fingers (unless your fingers is pointed towards your nose for the purpose of harvesting) and fuel hatred between the two genders, it is a lot better to develop the qualities that we can develop in order to maximize all the potentials that we have. C’mon, we love each other.

Blazing Redfish

Metrosexuals...

In response to amorphiz’s previous comments about metrosexual men versus guys who do not bathe: guys and girls, what are your thoughts on metrosexual men? Metrosexuals dress and treat themselves better, thus also looking better than average guys. They usually are a lot more attractive to women. But I think women are attracted to them mostly NOT due to the fact that these guys simply look better. It of course helps somewhat to look better. But women don’t put as much emphasis on how guys look. It is more about how a guy makes a women feel.

Of course, having dragons’ breath and looking like unwashed cavemen can only hurt. But as long as guys meet a certain standard they will be fine, just don’t make your looks and personal hygiene hurt your chances. By not taking care of these, a lot of guys are sending all the wrong messages. And this is what turns women off. It says that they are slobs, they don’t have attention for details, they don’t care about themselves and their appearances, and that they lack class or culture.

I think women are more attracted towards metrosexuals because of all the underlying qualities that metrosexuals posses, rather than their looks. By being metrosexuals, these guys show to women that they are classier and more cultured. It shows that they posses the aesthetic sense of style. It shows that they do pay attention to details. It shows that they take care of their bodies and appearances, which suggests that they are more likely to take care of their women. It also means that they usually have more money to afford all the nice clothes and treatments. Being seen with guys who looks sharp and dress smart also elevates women’s status. And it helps a lot more if they guy is not gay.

What do you think ladies and gentlemen? Guys, would you be metrosexuals? Ladies, do you prefer metrosexual men?

Blazing Redfish