So what about logic, and being logical. Well sometimes it doesn’t occur in nature especially in a ‘high conflict situation’ – for instance where custody is being disputed, and as part of existing custody judgements that are being torpedoed, circumvented and ignored.
What might seem logical – for instance offering to pick the children up a bit earlier so they are not waiting around for 45 minutes for the non-custodial parent to appear is to the custodial parent an excellent chance to disrupt the meeting. In my case simply her bringing the children in the car to another train station the same distance from their home would have saved one leg of the journey, enabled them to join the mainline train going directly to Munich instead of joining a little diddy train that brought them to the mainline train and takes 30 minutes longer. In this way I was being punished (I had the little diddy train and waiting twice!) and the kids had a lasting impression that meeting Daddy was ‘hassle’. i.e. instil a little bit of negative into the meetings.
I am reminded of the scene in Monty Pythons Holy Grail where a professor of logic (played by John Cleese) tries to explain his wife’s logic:
Good evening. The last scene was interesting from the point of view of a professional logician because it contained a number of logical fallacies; that is, invalid propositional constructions and syllogistic forms, of the type so often committed by my wife.
‘All wood burns,’ states Sir Bedevere. ‘Therefore,’ he concludes, ‘all that burns is wood.’ This is, of course, pure bullshit. Universal affirmatives can only be partially converted: all of Alma Cogan is dead, but only some of the class of dead people are Alma Cogan. ‘Oh yes,’ one would think. However, my wife does not understand this necessary limitation of the conversion of a proposition; consequently, she does not understand me, for how can a woman expect to appreciate a professor of logic, if the simplest cloth-eared syllogism causes her to flounder?
For example, given the premise, ‘all fish live underwater’ and ‘all mackerel are fish’, my wife will conclude, not that ‘all mackerel live underwater’, but that ‘if she buys kippers it will not rain’, or that ‘trout live in trees’, or even that ‘I do not love her any more.’ This she calls ‘using her intuition’. I call it ‘crap’, and it gets me very irritated because it is not logical. ‘There will be no supper tonight,’ she will sometimes cry upon my return home. ‘Why not?’ I will ask. ‘Because I have been screwing the milkman all day,’ she will say, quite oblivious of the howling error she has made. ‘But,’ I will wearily point out, ‘even given that the activities of screwing the milkman and getting supper are mutually exclusive, now that the screwing is over, surely then, supper may now, logically, be got.’ ‘You don’t love me any more,’ she will now often postulate. ‘If you did, you would give me one now and again, so that I would not have to rely on the Milkman for my orgasms.’ ‘I will give you one after you have got me my supper,’ I now usually scream, ‘but not before’– as you understand, making her bang contingent on the arrival of my supper. ‘God, you turn me on when you’re angry, you ancient brute!’ she now mysteriously deduces, forcing her sweetly throbbing tongue down my throat. ‘F**k supper!’ I now invariably conclude, throwing logic somewhat joyously to the four winds, and so we thrash about on our milk-stained floor, transported by animal passion, until we sink back, exhausted, onto the cartons of yogurt.
I’m afraid I seem to have strayed somewhat from my original brief. But in a nutshell: sex is more fun than logic. One cannot prove this, but it ‘is’ in the same sense that Mount Everest ‘is’, or that Alma Cogan ‘isn’t’.
A little bit long, but the gist is – accept it because it cannot be explained. And there is no way of forcing any form of acceptance of a ‘better way’ no matter how logical and beneficial to the children it might be.
Another example from real-life that none, and I mean none of my friends or acquaintances can understand is: The concept that having the kids over for the weekend means a weekend ‘off’ for the custodial parent – time for whatever they want! Certainly, all the parents I know would give their eye-teeth for a day without the children for any number of reasons – primarily to rekindle the relationship – become lovers again, or do some DIY without any hindrances – anything really, instead of being only just parents. I know some of you will think I am selfish, but a successful family is a well-balanced family.
I’ll finish off with another logic quote – this time from ‘Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy’
“I refuse to prove that I exist,” says God, “for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.”
“But,” says Man, “the Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn’t it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves that you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don’t. QED”
“Oh dear,” says God, “I hadn’t thought of that,” and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
“Oh, that was easy,” says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.
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