That’s completely different

“What the hell is wrong with you, Alan? Why would you come into my apartment and trash the place?”

“Because, Tom, you went into my place, rearranged everything, and trashed some of my stuff.”

“But that’s completely different.”

“Well, tomorrow’s Friday, Tom.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“About as much as your saying ‘But that’s completely different.’”

“What?”

“Think, Tom. Arguing that two things are different is the same as saying nothing at all. It’s meaningless because everything is different from everything else.”

Alan picked up a box of regular pencils from the mess on the floor. Withdrawing a pair he said, “Even these two pencils from the same box are different. Perhaps minutely, but still different. Identical twins are different. One was born before the other, or was cuddled more by the mother than the other. Maybe its crib was closer to a window that the other. In the end, one might grow up to be a rocket scientist, the other a serial killer.”

“Saying two things are different,” continued Alan, “means nothing unless you specify what the differences are, and how that relates to the argument.”

“Fine,” said Tom. “The difference is your furniture and stuff was merely rearranged…and purged a bit. The place was a mess. We only threw out junk, and drugs that had long expired. It’s gonna cost me a bundle to replace the damage you’ve done here.”

“That’s the whole point, Tom. Did you think to open any of those expired drug bottles before tossing them? Did it even occur to you to ask me why I kept them?”

“Of course you didn’t. Or you’d have discovered they were a great hiding place for the $6000 engagement ring I bought for Amy.”

“Oh shit. That is different.”