Imagine you have a beloved but somewhat dim child. You’re at a house by a lake. You’re lounging in the yard, reading, when you look up to realize the kid is running full-speed down the dock, and about to wind up in the lake.
You run down the grass to the end of the dock and you start running toward them down the dock. Your arms are flailing, and you’re yelling… but the kid’s head start is too much to overcome.
Sploooosh! And now you have to go pull the little nitwit out of the lake.
Sometimes it’s not the kids. Sometimes it’s the words. While saying something so remarkably stupid, there’s another part of the mind running down the dock after them. Flailing the arms. Yelling. But the head start is too much to overcome.