Schadenfreude is one of my all-time favorite words. Say it with me, won’t you? SHA – DEN – FROY – DAH. See?? It’s just fun to say.
Schadenfreude is defined as “enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others.” Its German origin is quite simply translated as Schaden = Damage and Freude = Joy. According to Miriam-Webster, the term has been in use since 1895. Now, that said, I’m sure 1895 isn’t the first time that one human being derived some sort of pleasure from some other human being’s pain and suffering. In fact, I can readily imagine Lug the Caveman, who was a complete and total dick to all the other cavemen — he dragged his cavewomen around by the hair, and bonked his fellow cave people on their heads all day long with his makeshift club. One day a big boulder broke free from the side of a cliff and smashed Lug as flat as a pancake. All the rest of the cavemen circled around the bloody, flattened mess that was once Lug. At first they all grunted and pointed in disbelief, but slowly, giggles began to emerge, and soon they were all bent over laughing so hard that tears rolled down their faces. Then they danced around a fire and ate dinosaur nuggets to celebrate Lug’s demise. SCHADENFREUDE.
So, yes. I’m pretty positive schadenfreude existed before 1895. That’s just when some brilliant German dude decided it should have a proper name!
Note: I do realize that cavemen and dinosaurs didn’t co-exist and therefore the cave people wouldn’t have been chowing down on dinosaur nuggets. But I felt it made for a colorful ending to the story, so just go with it!
Anyway, the point is… Schadenfreude happens!
My present day version of Schadenfreude has a lot to do with this:
Which results in this:
I thought long and hard about whether or not I should feel remorse for my schadenfreude. But I decided, I don’t. In fact, I feel so un-bad about it that I’m putting it out here in the blogosphere for all to see. And here’s why. My best friend and I have had some serious discussion and debate about this (because it’s definitely a topic that requires some thoughtful and lengthy discourse) and we’ve decided that she’s probably doing a lot of this on purpose, or at least with some level of reckless abandon because she’s either seeking, or already has, a weight-loss/diet deal for just after “Baby K” makes its glitzy, and likely televised, arrival. So, she’ll end up having the last laugh, additional cash in her arsenal, and one more ridiculous feather in her pseudo-celebrity cap. So yeah, I’m gonna milk this cankled, sausage-footed, plastic-sheathed, Shrek-toed schadenfreude for as long as I possibly can!
Or, you know, at least until Lindsay gets herself out of rehab again. It’s only a matter of time, folks. Only a matter of time.