Story of My Life

Alas, these young men, so sure of their beliefs and feelings, boast of their intelligence. They proclaim their thoughts loudly, screaming their ideas for everyone to hear. They do this, so sure that their ideas are indisputably right.

If one is to challenge their ideas, they respond with more yelling and screaming, seeing the rebuttal as a challenge to their intellect(and it is). They fight back furiously, with their screaming and yelling, interrupting their opponent's train of thought. This throws off their opponents' argument, and that split second of hesitation signals to the young men that their opponent has balked, a signal that the fight is soon over, that a quick uppercut will prove to be the deciding blow.

So onward ho, the uppercut comes. Sometimes it's just a simple restating of their argument with a few twists put in. Sometimes it's a questioning of their opponent's authority. Nonetheless, the young men think that this is the final blow; there is no way that their opponent could get back up from this blow.

But their opponent isn't done yet. They didn't get to finish their previous idea; the young man was too busy interrupting the idea for the idea to finish. The opponent completes the idea and is relieved to have been able to get a sentence out without being interrupted. Satisfied that the young man will be reasonable and see it from another point of view, the opponent is content, willing to listen to the young man's rebuttal.

However, the young man has other plans. Unable to comprehend why his opponent is still fighting, the young man turns to dark places. He loses the ability to argue reasonably. He's speaking before developing his thoughts. He's not looking at any other perspective than his own.

Meanwhile, his opponent is still keeping his composure, but is wondering why the young man seems to have lost his ability to argue. The opponent appeals to the young man's sense of reasoning, but to no avail.

I hate how no good ever comes of this.