I Disagree
For as long as I remember I’ve been an Arguer. I’ve argued with my parents, siblings, teachers, friends, co-workers, bosses, people on-line, girlfriends, wives, children, even dogs. I frequently argue with myself, especially on long walks or bike rides alone. I don’t argue to win. I argue, I suppose, for the same reason I breathe. It’s automatic. Somebody says something to me she believes is true, and my instinct — no different than taking a breath — is to ask, What if it’s not true?
I cannot say being an Arguer has served me well. Not in terms of my relationships. Arguing is different than Critical Thinking. At least it’s perceived to be. Critical Thinkers are eventually acknowledged as productive individuals, people who ask good questions; models, mentors. Arguers are perceived as truculent, difficult, refractory, rebellious, averse to agreement on almost anything — people to steer clear of. Arguers are sometimes provocative or amusing for a while, but all the people they know, eventually, fall out of touch.
Sometimes I even get sick of myself.
And yet, we must play the hand we were dealt, no? What else is there to do. Get Counseling! Yeah right. I’m reminded of the Monty Python skit, the one where a patient walks into the therapist’s office and says, I came here for an argument. The therapist says, No you didn’t. Patient barks back, Yes I did! Therapist, No you didn’t!
Round and round it goes. I can see myself in that skit, qua patient.
Naturally, I Googled “arguers anonymous.” I found this.
Ha ha, very funny, a blog devoted to recovering Arguers with no content, no controversy, no disagreement. What kind of sick joke is that.
Although you do have to wonder if being an Arguer isn’t merely a superficial expression of a more disturbing, underlying psychological defect. Except I’ve no childhood trauma to report that might’ve caused such a thing. My upbringing was closely analogous to an eighteen year long episode of Father Knows Best, with me as “Bud.” Although my parents may recall differently.
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Obama’s coming to Alaska, to Anchorage, on Monday. Ostensibly for a conference on climate change. So we left town to get away from the madness, and headed for our Nest. But wait, he’s coming to Seward too! He’s wants to see Exit glacier. Without us… Sniffle. We’d be happy to have him over. Happy Wife said she’s never made banana pancakes for a standing president, or, for that matter, one that wasn’t standing.
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We’ve seen considerable death on the beach lately. Tragic, yes, but there’s probably worse ways to go that croaking immediately after sex
We’d no idea there were Eels in Alaska until seeing this poor soul on our beach walk this morning,
Possibly a Wolf Eel. Although I might Argue otherwise.