Schadenfreude (Ger.)

Sooner or later this topic had to come up. Based on the feedback I’ve gotten from many of you – both written and verbal – it appears that one of the main attractions to my new blog is nothing less than what is defined and described by one of Avenue Q’s songs: “Schadenfreude.” To those of you who have seen the show, I toss an immediate “Well, then, fuck you...” (Even though I completely agreee.) And for those of you who haven’t seen it, let me preface all this with the exact same statement, just to get it out of the way.

Schadenfreude, as Webster* defines it, is “enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others.” As Avenue Q elaborates, the phenomenon can be illustrated as such:

D'ja ever clap when a waitress falls and drops a tray of glasses?

Yeah...

And ain't it fun to watch figure skaters falling on their asses?

Sure!

And don'tcha feel all warm and cozy,Watching people out in the rain!

You bet!

That's… Schadenfreude! People taking pleasure in your pain!

Oh, Schadenfreude, huh? What's that, some kinda Nazi word?

Yup! It's German for "happiness at the misfortune of others!"

Apparently, the reason my audience (however small it may be) finds my blog entries entertaining is none other than the same reason these actors like to watch skaters fall on their asses. My “40+-but-still-a-bohemian” life, as astute as I would like to portray its observations to be, is basically nothing more than something that helps those who didn’t make the same mistakes I did feel good about having made the decisions they made. It’s an outlet and a penance all at once. Just click onto it and you can feel guilty and repentant simultaneously.

I kid the audience. It’s not that severe. But you have to admit – as many of you have already admitted – that reading about my life somehow informs your perceptions of your own lives. I don’t mind telling you, that’s exactly what I’m aiming for. If I have to suffer a little bit of, “Christ, I’m glad that’s not me living that way!” to get my point across, well then – So be it.

I have the unlucky karma of being an artist. I call it unlucky not because it’s particularly difficult to identify as an artist, but because, as present sociological influences would have it, artists are not considered to be at all successful unless they achieve fame. You don’t hear folks, at this point in history, referring to doctors, lawyers, scientists or professors as being “unsuccessful” simply because they haven’t managed to become famous doctors, lawyers, scientists or professors. Rather, our present society tends to automatically look upon anyone who pursues and actualizes any of these professions as “successful,” by the sheer virtue of the individual’s ability to actualize the profession. Not so for the artist.

The artist, in our present society, is viewed as a rebel and a virtual derelict. S/he is accused of being “lazy” because s/he is not willing to dedicate the time and effort that it takes to become “sucessful” in another, more “legitimate,” profession. Instead, the artist pursues the virtually insane objective of creating something out of nothing – for no apparent reason other than the will and desire to create. Unless fame is achieved, there is no high-paying profession that justifies the artists’ endeavors. Even if the artist pursues an advanced degree, there is no certainty that s/he will be able to earn enough as an artist to pay off his or her student loans. At least doctors or lawyers can commence payments upon entering their respective fields, regardless of how many other “dues” they must “pay” before attaining full professional status.

So the Schadenfreude for y’all, whenever you tune into Moore and More, is in watching my lazy, crazy artistic life unfold. Part of your interest (and you can’t deny it because many of you have already admitted it) is in reassuring yourselves that you made the “right” decisions in your lives – decisions that led you far away from having to deal with any of the extreme (albeit self-imposed, I know) shit that I have to deal with.

Well, that’s exactly what I want you to do. That’s exactly what I want you to think. Not that you’re superior because you made certain decisions that I didn’t – but that there is an obvious difference between our respective approaches to life. I’m an emotional exhibitionist. I wear my life on my sleeve. I think that’s a big part of my artistic mission. I think it’s a big part of the reason I’m here, on this planet. If we have to trivialize my karma by calling it Schadenfreude, well then – like I’ve already said – So be it.

But bear in mind: there’s a certain freedom a waitress who’s just dropped a tray of dishes has. There’s a particular kind of liberty a skater who’s just fallen on her ass possesses. It’s freedom from the fear of falling. Those of us who have just fallen have nothing to fear; we have only to look forward to getting up and starting over. Those of us who’ve been coasting all the while, however, remain consumed with the fear of falling – often to the point of paralysis. These people just let momentum carry them along, hoping to be able to blame it if ever they happen to fall. But momentum’s a funny thing, because it’s self-imposed. We can’t blame our momentum for anything, because we create it.

At least we sources of Schadenfreude recognize our own responsibility for the predicaments we’ve created. At least our embarrassment allows us to clearly see the exact nature of our situations. And the funny thing is, we’re laughing, too. We’re laughing, and we’re pointing right back at ya’. So if it makes you feel better to read, beloved audience, then by all means – keep reading. It sure makes me feel better to keep writing. After all, what have I got to lose?

*Go to http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?book=Dictionary&va=schadenfreude for pronunciation (esp. if you're wired for sound).