In Other Words... aims to synthesize existing research on a range of topics and to present factual information in a narrative both accessible and entertaining. Topics addressed will likely focus broadly on evolution, featuring posts on behavior, cognition, language, and humor.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Friday, August 9, 2013
It's Funny 'Cause it's... Repetitive
Rarely is an
explanation of why something is
funny, funny in and of itself. Attempts at eliciting laughs by dissecting a
joke often rely on the “it’s funny ‘cause it’s [blank]” formula, with “it’s
funny ‘cause it’s true” seated at the head of the table.
Surely I’m wrong, but
I credit the first mainstream usage of this line to Steve Pepoon who penned the
words for Homer Simpson back in 1991, in the only episode of the
series he ever wrote. Over the last 22 years, this line or a variant of it has
popped up across the comedy landscape from the 2001 flop, Corky Romano, to a season
two episode of The Big Bang Theory in ‘09. While the explaining-a-joke
joke may be stumbling about on tired legs, there is certainly merit to the
thoughtful dissection of jokes without
laughter as the end goal.
If you don’t disagree,
read the following.
It’s not funny ‘cause it’s not supposed to be.
It’s not funny ‘cause it’s not supposed to be.
_______________________________________________________________
On a Radiolab podcast titled Loops, Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich introduce a comedy bit of
Kurt Braunohler and Kristen Schaal’s which relies heavily on repetition in
finding its laughs. Check out the clip below:
What makes repetition so funny, or at the very least
amusing?
The NPR podcast points out that there is something comical about the “Kristen Schaal is a horse” bit
right out of the gate. Combine the cadence of Braunohler’s voice as he spits
out the bizarre lyric with Schaal’s unorthodox horse dance, and it’s odd-ball
humor at its finest. Initially, it works in as much as it’s piqued the
audience’s curiosity; they digest it as the set-up for an imminent punchline.
But there is no punchline, either imminent or off in the
distance. In some ways, the audience has been cheated, the comic-audience
contract breached. But, instead of making amends, the comedy duo force-feeds
the crowd the same five lines. Then, they do it again. Repetition should kill jokes. Then, they do it again. With each occasion of hearing the same joke.
And again. The joke becomes less and
less striking. And again. Consider the
“it’s funny because it’s [blank]” line. But instead of coming across as tired,
the repetitive joke comes off as positively insistent.
What’s interesting is that, when played for laughs, repetition
like this ultimately seems to get them. Just not in a conventional way. The
absurdity of the act makes you wonder why,
and then it makes you mutter why. It
makes you question why so much that
you may consider asking why not, and
then, eventually, it makes you laugh.
Speculating about the mechanism behind this particular kind
of humor, I couldn’t help liken the reaction to that of a baby responding to a
game of peekaboo, with its drawn out and repetitive nature. As it turns out
this association wasn’t unwarranted. Thomas Veatch outlines, in his theory
published in the International Journal of Humor Research, that the reason
babies are entertained by peekaboo is that they don’t yet understand object
permanence (that objects—including people—continue to exist even when you can’t
see them). So, for babies, every time your face pops out from behind your
hands, you are violating their expectations, you are violating the principle
that exists in their minds that when your face disappears behind your hands it literally disappears.
According to Veatch’s theory, all humor is derived from situations
in which one can simultaneously feel that a principle is being violated and
that the same principle is being upheld. Laughter is the result, as we
recognize—albeit with suspicion—that everything is as it should be.
What a repetitive joke seems to do differently is that it
makes the joke itself the violated
principle. Depending on how attached you are to the principle that a joke will
follow a standard set-up > punchline
format, you may or may not find situations that violate this principle to be
funny. If you are too attached to the principle, then you may find “Kristen
Schaal is a horse” offensive. If you are too detached from the principle, you
may find the bit entirely unremarkable.
Repetitive jokes may simultaneously be the most deserving of
an explanation and the hardest to
explain. It may very well be that it’s wondering why they make us laugh that actually makes us laugh. It’s from the very
bewilderment as to why it’s funny
that it is so funny. In other words, it’s beyond explanation. It’s so very absurd, that we find funny our
own attempts to analyze it under a critical light.
By performing live, Braunohler and Schaal have a leg-up over
the king of repetitive laughs, Seth MacFarlane, who, relegated to his animated
worlds (Family Guy, American Dad, The Cleveland Show) is free to exploit
repetition without physically exerting himself (see below). Braunohler and
Schaal on the other hand, are exhausted and it shows. Lucky for them, it only
elevates the humor as the hoarseness of Braunohler’s voice surpasses the
horseness of Schaal’s dance.
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