More diversions

Prague Twin got me thinking about some diversions from what we obviously can’t fix. Sure it is important to stand up and be counted, but going over the same ground constantly gets a little depressing.

That’s probably why I was diverted by a news story about a recently discovered Victorian era (England) joke book. It was actually a comedian’s collection.

Example:

What's the difference between Joan of Arc and a canoe? One is Maid of Orleans and the other is made of wood.

Then I remembered to search a few years back for the world’s funniest joke. The winner crossed all the cultural barriers:

Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He doesn't seem to be breathing and his eyes are glazed. The other guy takes out his phone and calls the emergency services.

He gasps: "My friend is dead! What can I do?" The operator says: "Calm down, I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead." There is a silence, then a gunshot is heard. Back on the phone, the guy says: "OK, now what?"

But it was the cultural differences that got me. I enjoy telling a good joke, but I ran into problems when I first hit North America.

For one thing Australian’s, like Brits, tend to enjoy word play. Attempted humour is often just dropped into comments without a second thought. But you stop and wait for the response and there is silence.

If the word play is picked up, be it a simple pun or a double entdre or a touch of irony, it is quickly regarded as sarcasm. Well nearly everything North Americans don’t get is classed as sarcasm.

I also like a long rambling yarn, but they are out because by the time you get to the punch line busy NA’s have forgotten the rest.

The most amazing discovery was that when a joke fell flat, if I trot it out to the same people a week later and say fuck somewhere in it they laugh. Even those women with the mouth like a chooks bum will laugh at fuck, through their blush.

I’m not setting out to pick on North Americans here, but I wonder how far that cultural comprehension spreads into other areas. I recall back in the height of the original Afghanistan push, General Tommy Franks had gushing words to say about his Australian counterpart: (paraphrase) “I love the guy, I just can’t understand a word he says!”

Well we Australians were a bit pissed off at that, we don’t enunciate that badly, but now I’m thinking we misunderstood his meaning.

For one thing Australians tend to have a dry, laconic delivery, so there are few clues like physical emoticons.

Mash was really big in Australia because the county’s wit thrives on black humour, which could no doubt be taken for pure callous disregard. We do, of course, use words differently, and probably place emphasis quite differently. Perhaps the biggest difference is a penchant for the ironic twist, and subtlety is not a guarantee of comprehension in North America.

Still, I’m not universally incomprehensible here and as often as I have to avoid a black eye I can raise a chuckle.

My personal favourite is still Bruce and Sheila.

Sheila was in intensive care, had been in a coma for months. One day the nurse shooed Bruce out so she could give Sheila a towel bath. The nurse noticed that every time she rubbed around Sheila’s privates the patient reacted. Thinking about this she went out to talk to Bruce:

“I think you should have oral sex with Sheila,” she told him.

“Go on,” Bruce scoffed as he reddened. “I couldn’t do that, not in her condition anyway…”

“But it might work,” the nurse insisted, “It’s worth a try.”

Finally Bruce relented and the nurse set everything up for privacy and went off to her station. She had one ear on the monitors, and after a few minutes everything went dead, every instrument was flat lining. She ran back to the room;

“What happened Bruce?” she asked urgently.

“Dunno,” says Bruce. “I think she choked!”