Lachen
mit Mir und Meinem Freund: Schadenfreude
Jokes,
jests, quips and paradoxical situations are the ingredients which
cause us to laugh. The biology/physiology which underpins laughter is
the release of dopamine. This is one of the human body's feel good
drugs out a pharmacopoeia of feel good drugs. In a crisis, a
traumatic position or a moment of acute stress, the brain becomes
awash in dopamine which decreases the anxiety level.
Professor
Jim
Davies, in his book “Riveted: The Science of Why
Jokes Make Us Laugh, Movies Make Us Cry, and Religion Makes Us Feel
One with the Universe”, lays out what he generally
considers to be the bedrock of what constitutes a joke, which in turn
invokes a laugh. According to Jim Davies, a joke must have one or
more of the following elements to qualify as laughter producing joke:
expectancy, familiarity and sympathy.
In
other words, the components of a joke need to be recognized by the
one experiencing the joke. Also, the situational modus (logical and
systematic progression), of a joke should be within certain
parameters of recognition. Lastly, the recipient of a joke should be
invested emotionally in the person or thing involved in the joke;
either culturally or socially. If these criteria are met, then the
likelihood of the joke being successful is enhanced. Take for
instance, the classic joke set up of 3 different people who in a bar
and are all confronted with a similar circumstance. Here's an example
of just such a joke:
“An
octopus walks into a bar and sees a band playing in the corner,
composed of an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman. The octopus
walks up and says “I’m the best musician in the world. I can play
any instrument you like”. So the English guy goes “Alright then.
Play this” and hands him a guitar. The octopus plays it better than
Jimi Hendrix, better than Eric Clapton, better than anyone and hands
him back the guitar. The Irishman says “Okay, how about this?”
and shows him to the piano. The octopus sits down and plays it like
never before – Better than Liberace and Elton John. The best
pianist ever. Finally, a Scotsman says “Alright, let’s see ya
play this then” and hands him a set of bagpipes. The octopus looks
at them and fumbles with them. Couple more minutes and he’s still
struggling and there’s no sound coming out. Couple more minutes go
by and still nothing so the Scotsman says “So, can you not play it
then?” And the octopus says “Play it? I’m gonna fuck her when I
get her pajamas off”
All
the elements are embedded in this joke in order for it to induce at
least a snicker of laughter. Again, according to Jim Davies, this is
the classic formula on which to base the success of a joke.
However,
a seemingly omitted ingredient for inducing laughter is the innate
voyeuristic joy of the distress which befalls another person. The
English language has adopted the German word for this situation:
schadenfreude. In the realm of jokes and laughter one has to look no
further than physical humor in the form of pratfalls and practical
jokes. The silent film industry of the early 20th
century was filled with these comedic geniuses like Buster Keaton,
Charlie Chaplin, Fatty Arbuckle, the Keystone Cops, Laurel and Hardy
and W.C. Fields to name but a few.
In
these performances the viewer passively watches the impending
misfortune of the comic and then laughs either with a sigh of relief
that it didn't befall the viewer or in an unconscious catharsis as
the stress level is abated. Regardless, at the Moment
Suprême the viewer has
opened up the flood gates to an influx of dopamine.
Naturally, this isn't only reserved to watching films or stage
performances; it can also be literary. A few days ago I had a
marvelous release of dopamine at the expense of a former US
president.
Normally,
when I receive spam-email blasts from political parties I delete them
without impunity. Today was different. This spam-mail was from George
Bush Sr. and the GOP pandering for donations. Everyday I am bombarded
with the grubby, contracted, gnarled digital hands of politicians
reaching into the void as they beg for money.
In
other words, to quote one of my favorite snowclones; “the king is
dead; long live the king.” With the giddy curiosity of a ravenous
polecat, I read the opening sentence and was immediately overtaken
with schadenfreude. The first remark, meant to establish a rapport
with me, the reader, went like this; “I
don’t know what your guilty pleasures are in life, but one of mine
is socks.”
Intrigued
as I was, I pressed on to read more. Bush went on to flesh out what
he meant by such an psychologically eerie and revealing statement:
“I’m a
self-proclaimed sock man. The louder, the brighter, the crazier the
pattern -- the better! It’s usually the first thing people notice
I’m wearing whenever I’m out in public and that’s the way I
like it.”
Was
I witnessing in black and white the neurological dismantling of a
once proud and intellectual man? This is where my chance a more
clinical observation came to a halt. The rest of the email prattle on
about how the liberals and the conservatives in the sandbox can't get
along and play fair. The blanks aren't worth filling in for any
clarity. And then it happened; an unexpected jolt of dopamine at the
conclusion of the email: “Samuel
Johnson, thank you for your friendship over the years. I look forward
to hearing from you soon.”
With
those words he has promised me more schadenfreude as he will be
sending me more details about the fetishes he cultivates in
retirement.
