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ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ ഡോട്ട് കോം

പൂര്‍ണ്ണമായും മലയാളത്തിലുള്ള ആദ്യത്തെ മലയാള ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ മാഗസിന്‍.

അറിയപ്പെടുന്ന സാഹിത്യകാരന്മാരുടെ നീണ്ട നിര കൈരളിക്ക് സദ്യവിളമ്പുമ്പോള്‍, മലയാളിയുടെ മനസ്സും മര്‍മ്മവുമറിഞ്ഞ സൃഷ്ടികള്‍ ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ സമ്മാനിക്കുമെന്നതില്‍ സന്ദേഹമില്ല.

അതുകൊണ്ട് തന്നെയാണ് മലയാളിയുടെ കൂട്ടുകാരന്‍ എന്ന് ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈനിനെ വിശേഷിപ്പിക്കുന്നത്.

സാഹിത്യ സൃഷ്ടികള്‍ക്കൊപ്പം വൈവാഹികം, തൊഴിലവസരം, ഹരിത സല്ലാപം തുടങ്ങി ജനോപകാര സേവനങ്ങള്‍ തികച്ചും സൗജന്യമായി ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ സമര്‍പ്പിക്കുന്നു.

വൈജ്ഞാനിക മേഖലകളില്‍ ഏറ്റവും പുതിയ കണ്ടെത്തലുകള്‍, ജനോപകാര സേവനങ്ങള്‍, കുറുക്കു വഴികള്‍തുടങ്ങിയവ വഴി വിദ്യാര്‍ത്ഥികളുടെ പഠന നിലവാരം മെച്ചപ്പെടുത്തുന്ന വിദ്യ എന്ന പംക്തിയും ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ സമ്മാനിക്കുന്നു.

വനിതകള്‍ക്ക് സഹായകമാവുന്ന പാചകക്കുറിപ്പുകള്‍, സൗന്ദര്യ സംരക്ഷണം, ആരോഗ്യ സംരക്ഷണം, അടുക്കള കൃഷി എന്നിവക്ക് വേണ്ടി മാത്രമായി കുടുംബിനി എന്ന പംക്തിയും ഓരുക്കിയിരിക്കുന്നു.

അവശ്യാനുസരണം കാലിക പ്രസക്തമായ ഫീച്ചറുകള്‍, മറ്റു സേവനങ്ങള്‍, റിസള്‍ട്ടുകള്‍, സര്‍ക്കാര്‍ വിജ്ഞാപനങ്ങള്‍ തുടങ്ങിയവ ഉള്‍പ്പെടുത്തുന്നതില്‍ ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ എന്നും പ്രതിജ്ഞാബദ്ധമായിരിക്കും.

നമ്മുടെ പഴയ കൂട്ടുകാരെ വീണ്ടും ഓര്‍ത്തെടുക്കുകയും അനുഭവങ്ങളും കഥകളും അയവിറക്കുകയും സന്ദേശങ്ങള്‍ കൈമാറുകയും ചെയ്യുന്നത് കൗതുകകരം തന്നെ.

അതിനായി ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ ഒരുക്കിയ ക്ലാസ്മേറ്റ് എന്ന പംക്തി മറ്റും മലയാള സൈറ്റുകളില്‍നിന്നും ബ്ലോഗുകളില്‍ നിന്നും ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈനിനെ വ്യത്യസ്ഥമാക്കുന്നു.

ഇനി നമുക്ക് ഒരുമിച്ച് പറയാം .......

ഹരിത ഓണ്‍ലൈന്‍ മലയാളിയുടെ കൂട്ടുകാരന്‍ തന്നെ.

Responses to “The World’s Funniest Joke”

Chris Says: May 25th, 2008 at 9:02 am
As a graduate student in linguistics, I hereby challenge you to provide a citation for “linguistic studies that suggest that velar consonants are funnier than alveodentals”.
My first impression is that the claim is preposterous and false, but I’m willing to follow-up on any citation you can provide.
Funniest joke in the world?: Brad Neese: Living Large in Oklahoma Says: May 25th, 2008 at 5:56 pm
[…] McNamee examines “The World’s Funniest Joke“: […] according to research conducted a few years back at the University of Hertfordshire, […]
Gregory McNamee Says: May 26th, 2008 at 10:13 am
Chris, as someone who holds a graduate degree in linguistics, let me turn it around: I challenge you to prove the theory wrong. There’s a thesis or dissertation in there somewhere.
(Snide is a pretty funny word, come to think of it, and it’s all fricative and nasal and interdental, not a velar element in sight.)
Anyway, here’s a source that, as I recall, cites further studies, followed by a dissertation by a pretty funny guy.
1. “The power of ‘k’ has become comedy lore. . . . Hard consonant sounds, especially K sounds, which include C [and] Qu . . . tend to make words sound funnier. The comic Wendy Liebman told me that she’s always trying to write a joke that ends with ‘kayak.’”–Tad Friend, “What’s So Funny?: A Scientific Attempt to Discover Why We Laugh,” The New Yorker, November 11, 2002
2. “Fifty-seven years in this business, you learn a few things. You know what words are funny and which words are not funny. Alka Seltzer is funny. You say ‘Alka Seltzer’ you get a laugh . . . Words with ‘k’ in them are funny. Casey Stengel, that’s a funny name. Robert Taylor is not funny. Cupcake is funny. Tomato is not funny. Cookie is funny. Cucumber is funny. Car keys. Cleveland . . . Cleveland is funny. Maryland is not funny. Then, there’s chicken. Chicken is funny. Pickle is funny.”–Neil Simon, “The Sunshine Boys”
Chris Says: May 31st, 2008 at 9:16 am
Gregory, thanks for following up. I have not been able to find Friend’s article, unfortunately. Even though The New Yorker has many of his article available in their archive, they do not have that particular one, as far as I can tell.
“as someone who holds a graduate degree in linguistics”, you must know that languages differ in their phonological inventories. Do you believe that a Comanche speaker finds words with K inherently funny? Tagalog speakers? Quechua speakers?
Wikipedia has a web page called “Inherently funny word” which cites Neil Simon as well as H.L. Mencken as early example of this idea. But surely you must understand my skepticism. This is anecdotal lore at best. My first guess is that this ‘funny K words’ tradition is rooted in Yiddish humor, and is not universal by any stretch, but your claim was couched in phonetic descriptions that are universal (”alveodentals”).
This reminds me of sound symbolism, the idea that certain sounds have inherent meaning. While it may be the case that certain sounds or phoneme clusters come to be loosely associated with a related set of words (/fl/ = “flat” in flip, fly, flat), this association is typically historical and cultural, not inherent.
My guess is that any “scientific” study which found K words to be funnier than others had serious methodological flaws, probably in its population.

CIVILIZATION

If you have to explain a joke, the old saw has it, then it’s not funny.
It could even be dangerous to do so. For instance, take this gem of English-language humor: A horse walks into a bar. The bartender says, “Hey, buddy, why the long face?” It’s just the sort of jape that a time-traveler would employ in conversation with, say, Genghis Khan, who would probably boil said voyager alive as just punishment for the groans that would ensue after an interpreter (never mind the differences between modern English and the Mongolian of centuries past) explained the idiom “to have a long face.” (On that note, this philosophical statement: Genghis Khan, but Immanuel Kant.)
Now try this one: A bee is flying alongside another bee. He notices that his fellow apian is wearing a yarmulke. “What’s with the headgear?” he asks. “You want I should be taken for a WASP?” comes the reply.
Certainly it can be socially and politically daring to explore the workings of a joke, as Albert Brooks discovers in the course of his not-so-funny movie Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World. (On that note, this unobligatory aside for the benefit of the Iranian site that regularly hijacks this blog: Q: How many members of the Council of Guardians does it take to change a light bulb? A: None, because there are no light bulbs in the Middle Ages.) And as for the joke-dissecting that goes on in the exquisitely foul film The Aristocrats—well, you’ll just have to see it for yourself.
Jokes cannot kill, with all respect to the brilliant lads of Monty Python, one of whose sketches concerns a joke developed by British intelligence against the Nazis, a notoriously humorless bunch who nonetheless expire in spasms of laughter. Nazi scientists attempt to retaliate, as Hitler roars before an adoring crowd, “My dog has no nose!” The crowd shouts back, “How does he smell?” “Awful!”
All the same, according to research conducted a few years back at the University of Hertfordshire, the funniest joke in the world, the one that most easily travels across cultures, is about death. It goes something like this:
Two hunters are out hunting. One of them falls over and seems not to be breathing. His friend calls 911* and cries, “What do I do?” “Well, first, let’s make sure he’s dead,” says the operator. There is silence, and then a shot rings out. The hunter returns to the phone and says, “Okay, now what?”
It’s a good joke, to be sure. But curiously, the jokes that seemed to work the best on the cross-cultural charts were just over 100 words long, with the optimum number being 103. The full version of the hunters joke tips in at 102 words, lending credence to the notion that a strange numerology is at play. Couple that with linguistic studies that suggest that velar consonants are funnier than alveodentals and sibilants and such (thus “kayak” is a funny word, “yellow” and “sassy” not so much), and we have the beginnings of a formula. Back to the drawing board, then….
Oh, and breaking news, to return to the Python front: The Norwegian blue parrot, it appears, really did exist. Where’s that time traveler now that we need him?
* Or whatever emergency number is appropriate to the locale where the joke is being told.

Responses to “Peter Lorre: The Ghostly Echo of a Gentleman”

Did Peter Lorre come into this world with a sinister sneer fully formed on his lips? Was he at heart a sniveling, treacherous, conniving creep? Not at all, though from the moment American moviegoers set eyes on him, Lorre was a favorite of directors and screenwriters looking for just the right touch of evil—and audiences believed that he was evil indeed.
Born László Löwenstein on June 26, 1904, in a small but prosperous town in Hungary, Lorre moved to Vienna as soon as he could. He later said that he had studied there with Sigmund Freud, but about his early years we can only guess, since Lorre invented details of his past as he invented the characters for which he would become famous. What is certain is that he started out poor, a habitué of smoky coffeehouses who ate so seldom that, he remembered, “I am the only actor, I believe, who really had scurvy.”
Still, he survived, and he rose from small parts in strange “therapeutic” dramas to become a regular player in some of the city’s leading theaters. He graduated to film earning renown for his portrayal of a serial killer in Fritz Lang’s classic M (1931). Still young, but already a seasoned player by virtue of theatrical work with the playwright Bertolt Brecht in Berlin, Lorre so completely inhabited the part that, in no time at all, he was—or so he claimed—offered “dozens of villainous roles.”
Work is work, Lorre knew, but he also recognized the danger inherent in being typecast. Besides, he really wanted to do comedy. Still, he went off to London for a turn in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much, and then, in time, to America, having wisely escaped from Germany a step ahead of the Gestapo.
No sooner did he arrive in Hollywood than Lorre found himself in a familiar role, that of the psychopathic killer in Mad Love (a.k.a.) The Hands of Orlac. He brought a curious pride of workmanship to the grade Z part, believing that it was his job to introduce “a new kind of villainy to the cinema.” Filmgoers noticed the man billed as “America’s strangest sensation,” and in time he was indeed bringing a new kind of villainy to the screen, now as the high-voiced, worldly, but definitely bad likes of Joel Cairo in The Maltese Falcon and Ugarte in Casablanca, in which he uttered the memorable line, “You know, Rick, I have many a friend in Casablanca, but somehow, just because you despise me, you are the only one I trust.”
From there, alas, the road led downward. It didn’t help that Lorre was addicted to various substances, or that he despised himself, or that he had few friends, or that he was politically suspect during the days of the blacklist, or that he was consistently underpaid almost everywhere he worked and was “chronically short of money and long on bad luck.” From Casablanca to The Patsy is a long fall, and Lorre knew it. Being praised as one of the greatest actors in history but reduced to supporting Fabian could hardly have cheered him.
Peter Lorre died of a stroke on March 23, 1964, intestate and insolvent, not long after having pitched a remake of M. The studio head declined, fearing there would be no market for it, at which point, as Stephen D. Youngkin remarks in his careful biography of Lorre, The Lost One, the actor probably wondered whether “he should have stayed in Europe and faced Hitler.”
Yet Lorre lives on in curious ways: slyly traced by Robin Williams’s genie in Aladdin, appropriated by a breakfast cereal, hijacked to serve as the voice of a demented Chihuahua in a cartoon series and as the inspiration for a particularly weasel-like species of aliens in a popular space opera. Those ghostly echoes are apt, but the man who made them was an actor, and a man, worthy of more enduring monuments. The best of his films will do nicely.

TECHNOLOGY

When the Associated Press posted an article on April 16 about Tricia Walsh-Smith and her public tirade on YouTube, the world had the chance to see the angry side of a crumbling marriage straight from their PCs. In a tearful and furious YouTube video, actress and playwright Tricia (”Bonkers”) Walsh-Smith publicly lashed out against her husband, Broadway theatre executive Philip Smith, in a steady spate of negative and personal details about their failed sex life and marital woes. With the growing use of Internet sites such as YouTube, MySpace, and personal blogs, (it is estimated that one in every ten Americans have Internet blogs), many scorned spouses are using the Web to tell their side of the marital saga in a compulsive stream of rageful and embarrassing posts.
In her New York Times article on April 18, “When The Ex Writes a Blog, The Dirtiest Laundry Is Aired,” Leslie Kaufman states that, for the blogger, writing can be therapeutic. And she suggests that, for the reader, blogging can be infectious. Kaufman writes that bloggers who share their personal gripes about marital indiscretions sometimes have between 10,000 and 55,000 regular readers; and the percentage of users with personal blogs has quadrupled in five years.
All of this poses the question: Has the Internet facilitated a new type of confession where ill-advised or uncontrolled statements and emotions can be aired, if not supported and even validated?
In the professional world of psychotherapy, private emotions are explored and expressed in a “controlled environment” where the listener is a trained and willing participant in the patient’s journey of self discovery. Whether it be through behavioral techniques, interpersonal feedback or psychodynamic questioning, the therapist hears the patient’s confessions and offers appropriate dialogue to promote healthy decisions and optimal functioning. But when the listener is an audience of 55,000 anonymous eaves droppers (many with their own personal gripes and emotional wounds), cyber-rage may lead to ineffectual choices and misguided validation.
And what becomes of the children who read about, or listen to, their parents’ personal traumas on line? The public maligning of marriage, most often one sided, is not a healthy way to co-parent children who are already enduring their parents’ relationship struggles. (And children who harbor guilt or personal responsibility for their parent’s fights are particularly at risk.) In this new public arena, boundaries become blurred and unfair allegiances are borne out of a need for a parent’s emotional validation in “the heat of the moment.” And once written, or spoken, they can not be taken back. Instead, cyber-confessions can be book-marked, printed, and saved for personal posterity: perhaps to be used as fodder for the next generation of psychotherapy patients.