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Small-Scale Question Sunday for October 22, 2023

Do you have a dumb question that you're kind of embarrassed to ask in the main thread? Is there something you're just not sure about?

This is your opportunity to ask questions. No question too simple or too silly.

Culture war topics are accepted, and proposals for a better intro post are appreciated.

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I'm sorry: that joke was in bad taste. I don't want you to die. But in all seriousness your odds are less than 100%. People have died doing this. Is that the point of your hock?

I think you're just rationalizing reasons to run away. The real Hock is trying to meet women and getting turned down seemingly-endlessly. It's torture, and I can understand why you'd flinch away from that prospect to construct elaborate fantasies that involve becoming a wilderness mountain man.

But please work on yourself. Find some resources for how to attract women. And please don't post about here until you've found yourself a good woman.

But in all seriousness your odds are less than 100%. People have died doing this. Is that the point of your hock?

yeschad.jpg; the Hock is basically my homebrew substitute for war with far less potential for moral injury and far less potential to live as a horribly maimed cripple; the Hock provideth through victory or death. Like Everest or even K2: most people that attempt it either come back more or less in one piece, or not at all.

The real Hock is trying to meet women and getting turned down seemingly-endlessly. It's torture

Probably a good deal less torturous than a 100-mile solo ski journey through the Alaskan wilderness in temperatures that may be colder than 40 below zero, staring your own death in the face.

elaborate fantasies

Elaborate fantasies, my left foot. If all goes according to plan, I'll start the Hock at dawn on February 13, 2024. If you do not hear back from me by April 1, I have most likely died in the Alaskan wilderness; I will have left instructions for my next of kin and anyone that would search for or attempt to rescue me to NOT endanger themselves and expend resources by attempting to recover me, dead or alive. These writings are at least partially something that would explain or describe for posterity the thought processes of Skookum, the First Hockmaxxer, if he dies on his most excellent adventure. I know I'm maybe three parts Chris McCandless to one Don Quixote, but hey, what the hell...

Do I need to post proof that I am in possession of a one-way plane ticket to Fairbanks?

Do I need to post proof that I am in possession of a one-way plane ticket to Fairbanks?

I am also still waiting for a picture that proves your irrecoverable unattractiveness.

I am also still waiting for a picture that proves your irrecoverable unattractiveness.

While I'm solidly below average physically, I'm no Quasimodo. The unattractiveness isn't the kind that can be readily captured in still photos.

For an extreme example, consider Elliot Rodger. Was it his physical appearance that was the problem?

Was it his physical appearance that was the problem?

No, it was his social awkwardness, introversion, lack of people skills and narcissistic entitlement - his physical appearance had essentially nothing to do with his loneliness. I very much doubt going to Alaska for however long would have helped him with any of the above.

If he cooked up anything that was hock like, he would definitely not have the same type of narcissistic entitlement. Supreme Gentlemen are already Supreme and so don't need to fucking Hockmaxx.

You've often compared the Hock to fighting in a war, Navy SEAL training or other physically taxing tests of endurance and determination. Your theory assumes that anyone who undergoes a Hock-esque ordeal would never commit a mass shooting (as Rodger did), but I don't even have to go back earlier than this week to find an example of a military veteran doing exactly that. Can't wait to hear your rationalisation for how it doesn't count because he only went through boot camp.

I reiterate: if you want to do your camping trip, go for it, but don't delude yourself into thinking it'll fix all of your problems in one fell swoop, or that it's the underlying secret to human civilization or a male rite of passage or similar. I'm not telling you this out of spite or meanness: I'm urging you to manage your expectations and be realistic. You say "the Hock provideth" so often it's starting to sound like a religious incantation, which is not a healthy approach to adopt in the pursuit of self-improvement.

Surviving the Hock will mean that I am no longer both disgusting and hypocritical for wanting a relationship.

I'll just ask you directly. What is it about you that makes you disgusting or hypocritical for wanting a relationship?

I'm married with kids now. I used to believe that I was fundamentally repellant to all human females. Turns out this was not the case, and significantly improving my personal waterline of sanity allowed me to both discover and capitalize on that fact.