
Both examples are similar to anapodotons. They include an implicit thesis. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot because bullets do way more damage than movies let on, your foot will likely never work right again, and even if it does you’ll have endured months of easily avoidable pain and suffering. Don’t jump off a cliff because you’ll likely die and, even if you survive, you’ll have to endure a lifetime of debilitation, pain, and suffering, that could have been easily avoided.
These are also similar to thought-terminating cliches and tangentially related to mondegreens. Anapodotons can be insidious. Fluent speakers unfamiliar with the phrase can tell there’s more to it and, since the general meaning can be implied through context, folks avoid the awkwardness of admitting their ignorance (something we should all be more comfortable with - but that’s a separate discussion) and miss out on the nuance of some “common wisdom”.
A bit of common wisdom is that “common sense isn’t common”. These cultural and psychological quirks manifest in our languages are part of the reason why. Not shooting yourself is a great example because for most people this is an obviously stupid thing to do and, yet, hundreds of people accidentally kill themselves via negligent discharge every year and thousands more are maimed. How often do we believe “don’t shoot yourself” is sufficient advice when, in reality, proper safety training is required to keep that person alive? How often do those hearing the common wisdom believe they know all they need for that cliche to work its magic?
There’s a lot of value in being aware of these linguistic traps and avoiding them when we think to do so. Like being the child that chooses to stop perpetuating generational trauma and abuse. We can choose better words, better phrases, and stop expecting that other people already know what we take for granted.
Nuh uh. 😝