A couple if months before the pandemic lockdown I lost my dad. Then, the lockdown came. I got hit hard emotionally but tried to look fine. I thought I was fine, too. Family told me I was super competitive for no reason and tried to win even in simple board games. I felt there was rifts between me and my own family. I thought it would help see a therapist. During one of the session, I told her that I thought I was funny and made people around me laugh. She emphasized and made me understand the difference between being funny and being sarcastic. One is genuinely healthy while the other show deeper mental health issue. It struck me pretty hard but open my eyes to see that I had a real problem.
I said that those sessions help me a lot, both in family and at work now.
> Family told me I was super competitive for no reason and tried to win even in simple board games.
It’s going to vary between groups, but hyper-competitive board gaming is a thing and a good argument over one sentence in a rule book can happen without anyone ruining relationships.
I had a mate who was very funny; his wit was razor sharp and cutting. I was often at the receiving end of it, mainly because he knew I would take it as funny, nonetheless it was an external projection of his unhappiness inside. Happy ending: he met a girl, and very quickly the brutal edge of his humour disappeared. A shame, because I enjoyed it, but seeing his happiness, it's well worth it.
I often try and make people laugh, partly from a feeling of inadequacy, but partly the habit set long ago in my abusive childhood. Make the particularly unpredictable and dangerous parent laugh and you got a few minutes of safety (including physical safety). It was a strong motivator to be 'witty'.
Not an expert, but it seems to me that sarcasm is a kind of universal negativity that can be applied to pretty much anything. It's also incredibly vague and ambiguous about whether anything better exists or could exist.
For instance, looking at American news, you could sarcastically say "Go America!" to almost any story (unless it's actually good news, of course). Not only is such sarcasm negative, but it's also very passive.
Sarcasm also strikes me as juvenile. Children complain because they expect a parent will find a solution for them. Juveniles turn to sarcasm because they don't want to ask an adult to solve it, but they don't have a solution either. Then when they grow up, they realize that problems really do need to be solved and no one else will do it, so they need to use more productive communication strategies.
Overusing sarcasm is a method of expressing displeasure or discontent without actively pushing away those around you. You’re not actively insulting them, you’re “just joking,” but simultaneously expressing negative feelings. As a pointed remark, it can be hellishly funny. Used as the crux of a sense of humor, it is pretty clearly a scream for help, even if the speaker doesn’t know it yet.
i'm not a psychologist, but that's something i noticed as well before interacting with people. some clever sarcasm can spice up a conversation, but sarcasm in heavy doses is clearly a signal of distress, or mismanagement of anger or pain. sarcasm is the humor of the sour souls.
It's passive. It's the facade of a deeper want or observation that you're not expressing directly.
It puts the burden on the listener and requires mind reading - "is she being serious? Or is this a joke?".
I would contend that the mental health issue stems from when the speaker gets offended that the listener can't mind-read. "WHAT? Why would you take that seriously? I was just joking!"
If you're looking to get a point across, it's the worst means imaginable.
I don’t think this is actually a paradox, even though we generally associate laughter and comedy with happiness. It’s more accurate to say that happiness is akin to calmness or contentment, the lack of strong emotions.
Personally, after watching a funny comedian, I feel more emotionally exhausted than happy - which makes sense to me from this perspective.
Your second paragraph reminds of Aristotle's counter to Plato in one instance.
The debate was about whether media (poetry, plays) should be allowed. Plato thought, no, because poetry and other media burden the audience with emotions that have no value in practical life.
Aristotle countered that the poem has a "payoff" which relieves these emotions generated by reading the poem, so that the audience feels less emotionally burdened by the time it ends.
I particularly like R. G. Collingwood's historical commentary on their debate in The Principles of Art (published 1938), where he talks about our addiction to entertainment and being trapped in a vicious cycle ("one more episode").
I wouldn't say he was critical of poetry because they weren't "valuable in practical life" as Plato certainly wasn't a pragmatist. It's more that he thought the imitative arts didn't give true knowledge (i.e., a poet talking about war doesn't have actual true knowledge of war) and that poetry/literature often has bad role models that shouldn't be imitated by real people.
I used to find Plato's criticisms absurd and difficult to understand, but as media becomes more realistic, more influential, and more willing to display unethical characters in a sympathetic light for the sake of "the market" or "storytelling" I think he is probably correct at some level.
I'm thinking of the countless shows which glorify violence, cheating, drug smuggling, and so forth. It's not clear that glorifying these things in the media leads to them being acted out in real life, but even if it doesn't: that still seems like a massive sense of cognitive dissonance, wherein the cultural products of a society are only tenuously related to its real-world values.
I think Plato's argument is best illustrated by the TV show How TV Ruined Your Life by Charlie Brooker (the creator of Black Mirror). Each episode covers different topics like technology, love, etc. which television has completely warped.
It's not even about glorifying some of the worst aspects of humanity, it's about all of our expectations. My favorite concrete example is child birth: it's always portrayed as a quick procedure in the vast majority of TV shows, less than a few minutes from water breaking to the baby popping out. Nothing could be further from the truth and a lot of women get a nasty surprise when they get pregnant and an OBGYN explains what to expect.
Consider, in a related vein, what happens when things are just omitted.
Miscarriages are an extremely common phenomenon for humans. Yet while our stories about reproduction feature endless variations of the conception, pregnancy, childbirth and child raising parts of the process, very little mention is ever made of miscarriages.
As a result, when they happen (which they do a lot), they come as a real shock for people who have not otherwise been exposed to this detail of the human condition, even though they are really quite normal, perhaps even mundane.
Every single FDA vaccine prescribing guide says "All pregnancies have a risk of birth defect, loss, or other adverse outcomes. In the U.S. general
population, the estimated background risk of major birth defects and miscarriage in clinically
recognized pregnancies is 2% to 4% and 15% to 20%, respectively" or something very similar. At least try to calibrate your world model for something this important.
> I'm thinking of the countless shows which glorify violence, cheating, drug smuggling, and so forth. It's not clear that glorifying these things in the media leads to them being acted out in real life, but even if it doesn't: that still seems like a massive sense of cognitive dissonance, wherein the cultural products of a society are only tenuously related to its real-world values.
Remember the good ol' days?
> All criminal action had to be punished, and neither the crime nor the criminal could elicit sympathy from the audience, or the audience must at least be aware that such behavior is wrong, usually through "compensating moral value".
> wherein the cultural products of a society are only tenuously related to its real-world values.
I don't know if Plato does this too, but I'm pretty certain you're making a mistake here. Most (almost all, I would argue) of the shows that feature violence, cheating, drug smuggling etc. present them as cautionary tales: do <this> and <that> will probably happen to you, even if there's a brief period between when you think things are going well.
Human cultures are full of cautionary tales, and in this sense these "countless shows" are not glorifying their themes, but continuing in the tradition of telling us "don't do this (probably)".
This is a common rebuttal, but I don’t think it holds up under much scrutiny. People idolize the charismatic protagonists, they don’t look at them as cautionary tales. The reaction is “that’s cool,” not “I guess he didn’t win in the end.”
Fight Club is a good example. Tyler Durden is clearly the most charismatic character and has “inspired” a whole lot of viewers, even if he loses in the end.
"Responsible" is a highly overloaded word, but if nothing else it's a call for writers to be cautious in how they present things.
I'm working on a story with a (mostly) sympathetic protagonist who does some awful things and ultimately undergoes moral meltdown. One of my beta readers pointed out that my ending, bleak as it was, sort of rewarded the protagonist by giving her catharsis and some vindication, if not an actual happy ending. I took that as the top priority from that round of feedback and made sure to tweak the framing.
Did I succeed? Maybe. Can I absolutely prevent people from taking the wrong message? No. But I can try, and at least cut off the obvious routes to misinterpretation, learning from previous examples (Fight Club is actually not too far off in spirit). I think this is a moral responsibility of anyone making art, especially stories, for consumption by others: you at least have to try, where "try" includes a good faith effort to learn from common mistakes.
I don’t think the author is the relevant person here. The filmmakers are, and they pretty clearly chose to make Durden a charismatic figure and Jack an awkward one. And of course they would - it makes for a better story and overall film.
Beyond that, I think most films/shows are functionally the same. No one wants to watch an ugly, uncharismatic actor just…fail. That doesn’t make for a good story. It seems pretty obvious to me that the vast majority shows are produced based on the quality of the story, not on instilling ethical values. Otherwise why would something like Dexter even exist?
Durden is, according the author at least, an imaginary character. In his mind at least that overrides the "charisma" level. So make of that what you will.
People preferences for story telling is partly why the really good story tellers are so reverred: they make us comfortable, engaged even, in stories in which our natural inclinations would lead us towards different outcomes. We don't like watching ugly, uncharismatic actors fail, but the good stories keep us engaged when the pretty, charismatic actors get their just rewards for bad behavior.
I have no idea why anyone would think that Dexter is not a tale about moral values, and the "right ones" too ...
well ... it either deserves to be called a "paradox" or the term "paradox" cannot be applied to anything and is only of philosophical relevance as the existence of a paradox is impossible by definition. that's why the term is applied for seemingly contradictory observations ...
A man goes to a doctor. “Doctor, I’m depressed,” the man says; life is harsh, unforgiving, cruel". The doctor lights up. The treatment, after all, is simple. “The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight,” the doctor says, “Go and see him! That should sort you out. Next!”
The next guy comes in. “Doctor, I have no joy in my life. I'm thinking of ending things,” he says. The doctor tells him: “The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight,” the doctor says, “Go and see him! That should sort you out. Next!”
Another guy comes in. “Doctor, please help me. I'm on my wit's end. Everything is meaningless since I lost my wife a year ago. I can't get off the bed in the morning. I wish I was dead myself". The doctor doesn't miss a beat: “The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight,” the doctor says, “Go and see him! That should sort you out. Next!”
And so on. It's now 7pm and the doctor's office has closed its doors. The doctor picks up the phone and dials a number:
"Hello, is Pagliacci there? I'm doctor Greenwald. Tell him the tally is 38 people today. I expect my usual 10% cut".
“A moth goes into a podiatrist’s office, and the podiatrist’s office says, “What seems to be the problem, moth?”
The moth says “What’s the problem? Where do I begin, man? I go to work for Gregory Illinivich, and all day long I work. Honestly doc, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t even know if Gregory Illinivich knows. He only knows that he has power over me, and that seems to bring him happiness. But I don’t know, I wake up in a malaise, and I walk here and there… at night I…I sometimes wake up and I turn to some old lady in my bed that’s on my arm. A lady that I once loved, doc. I don’t know where to turn to. My youngest, Alexendria, she fell in the…in the cold of last year. The cold took her down, as it did many of us. And my other boy, and this is the hardest pill to swallow, doc. My other boy, Gregarro Ivinalititavitch… I no longer love him. As much as it pains me to say, when I look in his eyes, all I see is the same cowardice that I… that I catch when I take a glimpse of my own face in the mirror. If only I wasn’t such a coward, then perhaps…perhaps I could bring myself to reach over to that cocked and loaded gun that lays on the bedside behind me and end this hellish facade once and for all…Doc, sometimes I feel like a spider, even though I’m a moth, just barely hanging on to my web with an everlasting fire underneath me. I’m not feeling good. And so the doctor says, “Moth, man, you’re troubled. But you should be seeing a psychiatrist. Why on earth did you come here?”
If anyone is interested in further reading, the link references this Psychology Today article[0] which is a synopsis of The Tears of a Clown: Understanding Comedy Writers(2009)[1] by the same author.
PT article also references Pretend the world is funny and forever: a psychological analysis of comedians, clowns, and actors(1981)[2].
How many thousands of entertainers and comedians are neutral or happy but we never hear about because that’s less interesting than the Sad Clown narrative?
>“I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.”
I consider myself funny and am always joking around. However, I never felt such strong association with comedians until after both of my parents passed in difficult fashions. I felt such a strong need to be funny, like it was my only good personality trait. I eventually took a standup class. I enjoyed getting on stage and working up to my 5 min set. I still write jokes and go to open mics every now and then.
The two takeaways I have are:
* the practice of writing everyday was key. Having to articulate what was actually upsetting me—instead of just saying "I hate this or that"—to find what was funny or absurd about it really helped me release a lot of the pent up anger.
* like the quote, making other people laugh was/is so rewarding both for my own self-esteem and for knowing that I brought a little joy to others
I wonder how lawyers would answer these questions.
Unfortunately, when it comes to moderation it comes downtown to house rules and who is "ruling" the house. Sometimes, "read the room" is the only way you'll fit in.
As someone who constantly likes to amuse himself by making funny (even if only to me) remarks - some of which make their way here and get flagged! - it has nothing to do with hiding or coping with sadness. I have zero energy for wise cracking if I'm sad.
This article is just more propaganda by dour, humourless bores, trying to make out that they - who have no gaiety in their lives - are the normal ones, and it's those joking, smiling people that are really suffering.
"Clowns are unhappy" is just something people with no sense of humor say to feel better about themselves.
Everyone is unhappy about something. I'd rather see it channeled into humor than into passive-aggressiveness.
People mention Robin Williams and John Belushi. If you want a (fictional) example, take Jerry (or Larry?) from Parks and Rec. He was as boringly positive as anyone alive, but he had a fantastic family life, and more importantly, I'd bet his kids would say, "Dad is really funny!" And most of his "jokes" would be silly Dad jokes.
You can have no sense of humor and still be miserable. Humor absolutely is a defense mechanism for people who are sad and depressed; I know because I have anxiety and depression and am funny, and I know why.
But that doesn’t mean everyone funny is miserable.
Yes, but the percentage of funny people skews heavily toward those who are miserable. That is to say, the center of the Venn diagram is much larger than either of the two individual sides.
I was just thinking about this, I saw a comedy bit about a man taking to one of his children that was the result of his wife having an extra-marital affair [1]. It’s a really terrible situation for everyone involved. The comedian made it hilarious. Comedy is trauma packaged as entertainment.
Sometimes it’s not necessarily individual but societal pain. Carlin or Hicks were great at that. I’m sure both had individual pain too but their material was more broad
Clown reporting for duty... yep. My dad was a funny guy, his whole family was funny except his eldest brother who only has darkness. He wasn't as abusive as his dad; we never got the shit kicked out of us, but I grew up dealing with some dad-derived-darkness. I was always class clown, I continually crack jokes, people keep complaining that HN doesn't do humor but jeez, folks, 90% of my karma here comes from pithy observational humor. (truth: HN hates low-hanging fruit of all varieties, and comedians who complain about their audience suck*)
This is something I've been thinking about recently in job-hunting. NASA [1] has looked at clowns to evaluate their utility in teambuilding -- and no surprise to me, a joker** finds their place in high-stress environments. Makes sense to me, because I've lived this dynamic and my release valve being stuck open has been an incredible social lubricant in my life.
Most people don't know how to let go a little bit: they tend to hold it all in until the dam bursts. I don't think I'd have survived my childhood with that approach. Jokers like me enter a stressful situation, and knock the edge off a little, because this is our natural defense to pre-trauma. In a professional environment, members of our audience are often unaware of the process underway -- jokers hold an umbrella against an unseen rain.
But people think they hate comedy! Jokers are seen as unserious, unreliable; add to that this stupid stereotype that women can't be funny -- I can't put this on my resume, despite it being literally my most useful social skill. Yeah, I can knuckle down and write code and fix bugs like anybody else, but what I can do for social cohesion doesn't get measured. I've even defrayed situations between my manager and my skip with a light comment. I'm reluctant to crack jokes in an interview because of humor's negative perception, but in truth that means I only let the good ones slip out.
But what happens after an interview where I have not found a single opportunity for levity? Do I want to work for a manager who I don't feel comfortable making a joke around?
** I do prefer the term joker to clown. I've had friends go to clown school, I've had friends go to comedian school... "joker" doesn't imply any kind of pedigree.
This reminds me of something similar. I dated a girl back in college who was the most miserable and unhappy person I ever met.
But, she would project this niceness and happiness to everyone (She didn't have lots of friends and was always very quiet. Also VERY passive aggressive and judgmental and was deathly afraid of what others thought of her). She also didn't seem to think any of this was a problem. It ended up being very toxic for our relationship and I had a clean break and haven't talked to her for almost a decade.
I checked up on her recently and she now has a podcast related to happiness and how you can be as happiness as her. I seriously doubt she's changed. It's just more projection to the world that she's a happy person.
There was the Scott Alexander thing recently (in the context of defending polyamory) talking about how if you want information on how to walk, then you'd probably be better talking to the person who has some debilitating physical issue as they've been motivated to think about it long and hard, and find all sorts of tricks and techniques to make it easier, while most people have never even thought about walking. And that many "experts" will fit this model.
I don't think he said a follow up thought I just had, which is that the kind of person who goes looking for walking or happiness podcasts is very likely not in the "just comes naturally demographic" either.
This is good for people that learned how to overcome their issues. However, in my case, I think she is still unhappy, but is so afraid of what others might think of her (she also now has a career), that she has to broadcast to the world that she's happy. I wouldn't want to follow the advice from someone like this.
Would you have dated her at all if she had been honest about how miserable she is up front? If her inherent personality is just miserable, then how else is she supposed to navigate through life?
You work on yourself first, then date. That's for her to figure out. No one owes miserable people a chance. I'm not sure why you're suggesting lying is acceptable just so she can date. Weird opinion.
Perhaps we could call it putting your best self forward to make a good first impression? The advice I've often seen is to treat a date like a job interview - is full honesty expected there? In fact, in a romantic context, is full honesty ever appropriate? If you said something like, we're probably both around 7 on the attractiveness scale, make similar incomes, aren't getting any younger, and probably can't do much better; let's settle for each other - how would that sort of honesty play?
I don't think treating dating like a job interview is a good idea unless you are interviewing them. You can either put your personality out there and be rejected or you can fake it, and then when you do out your actual self out there get rejected later down the road.
I agreed with your first comment, but this isn’t quite fair. People put their best foot forward not because they are lying or pretending their negative qualities don’t exist, but because showing the positive ones can often lead someone to overlook and accept the negative ones, whereas leading with the negative rarely works the other way around.
You dress up for interviews, more than you would to go get a coffee, and likely more than an average day at the office. Is that lying?
People also dress up for dates. They wear makeup and nice shoes. They’re not liars; they’re dating.
I always wondered (and still do) what people feel when they dress up to date. I've always thought of it as hiding my true personality. Showing someone different. Playing a role.
Does everyone feel like that?
Nope. I don’t spend every day walking around in my best threads. But I do spend some time doing it, and it feels special and important, and it shows I respect the occasion and the other party enough to put in the work. Moreover, it shows that I’m willing to put in the work for something I might care about. None of those are lies.
And all of that makes an impression before anyone has said a word.
And when to stop working on yourself and start dating? Which metric to fulfill? Unfortunately there are people that are predisposed to certain difficult personality traits. Personality heritability is about 50%. So working on it is a limited affair. Nobody is perfect, and dating is about finding someone who is comfortable with your imperfections and your with theirs. Nobody owes me anything more than basic human rights and dignity. And what I expect I try to give to others.
I have always used humour, proper humour, not sarcasm, in a variety of ways. Find the dark humour in a dark situation. Make a wise ass remark during a stressful situation. Sometimes the humour is inappropriately placed; inappropriately placed but still funny. "I had an absolute shit Christmas - I got laid off, my dad died, and someone gave me white sport socks. Seriously!? Who the hell gives white sport socks as a gift?"
Humour is my armour.
Sometimes my clowning is seen as unprofessional by "serious business people" but I honestly don't care to work with those kinds of people anyway. I use humour to start conversations with people. I make my wife laugh every single day.
"What's up?" I asked as I walked in the bedroom.
"I'm burning up" replies my wife on a cold January evening.
"She's burning up. She wants the world to know. She's so hot she'll glow. She's burning up. She wants to know the cause! Maybe it's early on-set meno-pause! 'coz she's burning up!"
I'm an introvert.
"Hah!" exclaims someone at the back of the room.
No. Really. I'm an introvert.
I know all the names of the people at Trader Joe's on Sunset. I know the names of the people at the Starbucks opposite. I know the names of many of the regulars. Many of the people that work the stores around the area too. The people at the post office. Our regular UPS and Fedex drivers stop to chat. I can tell you about their kids, their jobs, their life. They know me too, or many of them do. I talk to them all. Ask questions about their day.
What you see in-person in front of you at the office, at the restaurant, making sure everyone is included, talking to anybody I run into, working a room at a networking group, that's not me. I put on my Oxford shirt. I put on my black cashmere jacket. I pick up my electronic business cards. That's my sword and my shield. I step into battle. Face the world. Talk with everyone. Make sure they aren't left out. Approach everyone. Show interest. Ask questions. When people come together in a social setting, I'm usually that single connection between a lot of disparate people.
At a networking meeting where I know nobody to start I will know dozens by the end of the night, "Hey Dave, great to make your acquaintance! Have you met Jeff? Let me introduce you, he's this awesome software developer out of Facebook. You guys should talk." A minute ago I didn't know Dave. Fifteen minutes ago I didn't know Jeff.
People want to talk about themselves. And nobody knows how to break into the conversation. I'm that catalyst. Their ice breaker.
"Here, let me find Mike in this crowd, he knows Android stuff, he can answer your questions." I know Android stuff too, but let's introduce two new people to each other, this isn't about me.
I go home and I close the door and I sigh a sigh of relief that it is over and I can just be alone and recharge.
I studied improv and comedy for a few years, had a small side career in it too for a while, even appeared in a few Hollywood clubs, which sounds more impressive than it really is.
Robin Williams and Steve Martin were teenage heroes of mine. I wanted to be like that. That non-stop onslaught of stream of conscious pinballing from one comedic observation to another. The art of improv isn’t that it is all done right there, but that its rehearsed, and rather than an entire show, a six course dinner served at a fine restaurant like many comedy routines, improv is a Chinese buffet where you are elbowing the last words from your mouth out of the way to get at the next crunchy morsel your ADD brain just leapt too.
There is a scene, where Pam Dawber played by Sarah Murphree in the test footage for a biopic tells Robin Williams, played by Jamie Costa, "Shut up for a minute, I'm being serious."
When I watched that footage with my wife, she looked at me and said "That's you." And I had to apologize to her for having to live with that.
Years ago, when I first met my wife, I said "one day, you'll tell me to shut up. It'll happen."
"Oh, that'll never happen" said she.
"She wants the world to know, that she's burning up!"
"Shut up for a minute would you? I'm being serious!" she said.
Do I suffer from anxiety and depression? No, actually, I enjoy it. Who wouldn't? All those awesome memories flooding back to you in vivid detail at 4AM in the morning.
Pain takes away your humanity. Comedy brings it back.
When people ask me how I'm doing I deadpan that I am living the American dream, but really, deep down, I'm fine, I'm just a little tired that's all.
I said that those sessions help me a lot, both in family and at work now.