On the topic of arguments — Some people would say of me that I "like to argue". I don't think this is true. I don't enjoy arguing; but I don't seem to "suffer" as much as other people seem to do when arguing. To me, arguing is like using a screw driver. Not necessarily something enjoyable, but nothing painful either, and sometimes it's the right tool to solve the problem at hand.
I don't want to "win" arguments. That's another misconception people have about me. I am not interested in having the person whom I'm arguing with grovel at my feet and admit that they are wrong and I am right. As far as I can tell, arguments always occur when one (or both) parties want something to change. I don't want to be "right" so much as I want resolution. That means either the requested change does occur, or the request change is no longer desired.
As an example, consider and argument about leaving the toilet seat up. Bob leaves the toilet seat up, and Alice wants a change in Bob's behaviour (namely, she wants Bob to leave the toilet seat down). This is the trigger for the argument. Alice tells Bob she wants Bob to put the toilet seat down. Bob says he prefers the toilet up. Bob argues that since he wants it up and she wants it down, why don't we just leave it in whatever state they want, and if they want the toilet seat in a different state, they can change it. Alice points out that before going to the toilet, the person may be in a rush (i.e. they really need to pee), so they don't have time to change the state of the toilet seat; the change can more easily happen after peeing is done. Bob points out that assuming a uniformly random distribution of peeing patterns, Bob is just as likely to get screwed over by a toilet seat in a bad-state as Alice is. Alice then points out that Bob's worst case scenario is that he pees on the toilet seat, while Alice's worst case scenario is that she falls into the toilet. Bob admits Alice is at a disadvantage at this point and agrees to always put the toilet seat down.
For some reason people seem to assume that an argument always involves emotions, and in particular anger. But note that in the above example, there were no signs of anger. This is how I prefer arguments to be conducted: without letting emotions affecting it.
The previous example was of a change in behaviour. Sometimes I get into an argument because the change desired is that of belief. That is, I'll believe one thing, and the person believes a different thing. The change desired (on my part, anyway) is for both of us to believe the correct thing. "The correct thing" may or may not be the same thing that I believe. These are the type of arguments were people get emotional about being "right".
I don't like to be wrong. Note though, that this is different from "I don't like to appear to be wrong". Let's say I make a mistake and then realize it. In the former case ("I don't like to be wrong"), I must admit that I made a mistake, because to do otherwise would be to be wrong a second time. In the latter case ("I don't like to appear to be wrong"), I must deny that I made a mistake so it does not appear to anyone that I had made a mistake in the first place.
I think a lot of people don't like to appear to be wrong, and I wrongly assume that people are like me — that is to say, I assume most people don't like to be wrong. So when I think they are wrong, I'll point out why I think they are wrong, and then they get angry at me, accuse me of being argumentative, of always wanting to "win" arguments, etc. If I am wrong, I would very much like for someone to point it out to me, so that I may correct my ways.
One of the axioms or assumptions I make in an argument is that logic is correct. We have all these laws of logic, such as "if A implies B and B implies C then A implies C" and so on. I assume these laws of logic to be correct. I emphasize that this is an assumption because the only way I know of to prove these laws involve using logic, so we end up with a sort of circular definition.
If I'm in an argument with someone, and they disagree with this assumption (i.e. they believe that logic is not correct), then there is very little chance that the argument will be resolved — at least, it won't be resolve by my yielding. I cannot imagine a sequence of actions that the other person can take that will end up in my agreeing that logic is not correct. This is probably because in my effort to imagine this scenario, I am only imagining logical outcomes to it.
Basically, as you see, I am a "prisoner" of logic. I cannot think (or even imagine), except in a logical manner. I cannot even imagine what it must be like to think in an illogical manner. I'd tell myself "There must be some reason you believe what you do", except that if they truly are illogical, then no, there needn't be any reason (in the sense of "cause and effect") for them to believe what they do.
When someone says they are not logical, or that they are not interested in logic, that essentially sounds a death knell for me. I am not interested in being with that person. For a person who is not logical, no predictions can be made about their behaviour, because all these predictions will be based in logic which the person does not follow. A rational person would not murder me in my sleep, for example, without some significant gain. There is a risk associated with murdering me, and as long as I have confidence that they do not have the aforementioned significant gain (e.g. there is not bounty on my head), then I don't have to fear being murdered in my sleep. Not so with an irrational person: they may murder me at any time. To ask "why?" is meaningless, because it assumes that they would need a reason, a cause.
As I mentioned earlier, I can't imagine what it would be like to think illogically. As such, I must resign that whatever mind it is that is thinking illogically, it is unlike any human mind I've ever encountered. I cannot have any empathy for such a mind, because by definition, I would have to have some understanding of that mind to have a sense of empathy for it. I would avoid such a mind at all costs, much like I would avoid a randomly radioactive decaying atom. I am avoiding not because I "dislike" the personality of an illogical person, but because I don't consider the illogical person to "be a person" in the empathic sense, and because I fear for my own safety around such a thing.