MountainMornings

We all know that special somebody, the guy who will always play devil’s advocate. One could say that the previous administration held a daily master class in What Aboutism – in other words, accusing the other side of rotten deeds in order to take the pressure off of their own nefarious activities. Remember when wind power was really starting to gain hold in our national grid, then somebody said,

“But what about all the dead birds!” Now that was classic because it implies that the speaker was really concerned with the environment. What a textbook con artist ploy.

Whataboutism is considered a form of the logical fallacy called tu quoque, Latin for “you also”—more like “And so are you!” in contemporary speech. The idea, here, is that a person charged with some offense tries to discredit the accuser by charging them with a similar one or bringing up a different issue altogether—none of which is relevant to the original accusation. It’s basically like blowing a raspberry at someone and saying, “I know you are, but what am I?” Classy, right?

https://www.dictionary.com/e/whataboutisms/

It is the Beavis and Butthead of debate, creating discord and blame in order to steer the conversation elsewhere. Case in point – my desire to buy a house, not a plane or a boat. I want to plant roots before I die, I’m tired of all this transplanting. If I say, “Let’s buy something in California,” I hear, “But what about all the wildfires… and the earthquakes!” If I say, “Let’s buy something in Hawaii,” I hear, “But what about the volcanoes?” Let’s not even mention Tennessee, all those Republicans! I realize that stasis is easy and change is hard, but what about my feelings??

This morning the sun is out, and after a week of temperatures in the teens, it’s going to be mid-60s today. Positively convertible weather. And the Senate is about to interview some witnesses from the January 6th insurrection. What to do, what to do? The journalist in me wants to hear about all the nitty gritty failures of the Capitol security system. Why did it take so long for help to arrive, what’s with the Pentagon? But the Bride is home today and Bob is planning to walk Ms Bean and what about my desire for some Vitamin D? A little sunshine is good for my psoriasis too.

Long ago I banished the “woulda, coulda, shouldas” from my vocabulary. Those words only lead to shame and blame, and I for one had enough of that in Catholic School. But, I can still get sidetracked by a good What Aboutism. Mostly as the recipient, so I’ll try and use this ploy myself, in order to master recognizing the technique, and thereby pointing it out to the people who trade in it. Let’s practice What Aboutism for a few minutes.

What About these gender reveal parties?

My generation had baby showers with lots of yellow baby clothes. We didn’t have ultrasounds to announce a baby’s sex, we were surprised each and every time. Does having a gender reveal party mean you have to have another baby shower later? Isn’t that just greedy? I actually “get” why people would want to know the sex of their soon to be baby – what I don’t get is making a spectacular show of the news to plaster all over social media. Plus, they are dangerous, and… Covid.

Last Sunday a gender reveal party killed the father of a fetus in Liberty, NY when his improvised explosive device backfired. The man’s brother was helping him and said it was, “The freakiest of freak accidents that I could ever imagine.” STOP right there! Most emergency departments know all about July 4th freaky explosive accidents. They write all about them in journals. People lose eyes and fingers all the time!

Gender reveal parties have also started wildfires in California and Arizona. In my mind, these parties are detrimental to the health and welfare of our environment – not to mention the lives and limbs of those who play with grenades and colored pink smoke bombs and cannons. Kind of like MAGA hatters who play with flags and fire hydrants and guns.

What About making an old fashioned list? You know, that list of people to call once the baby is born, or email, or text or whatever. Make that list up early and send everybody an email, or send them pink or blue cupcakes if you really must know if it’s going to be a girl or a boy. Or a “they.” Personally, I like a bit of a surprise.

I mean, What About just NOT knowing? It’s like getting a pup-cup at Starbucks!