G'day Mate (Mk III)

« Another Elevator Story | Main | Slow Scots »

March 17, 2003

Nullus Anxietas

As one reader pointed out, my dog-latin translation for Terry Pratchett's "Nullus Anxietas" was (intentional) wrong. That was because I didn't want to spoil a lead in to this joke......

There was an Englishman who was diagnosed with brain cancer (no that's not the joke - quiet in the peanut gallery). The specialist explained that due to the advanced state of the tumour, the only choice was an immediate operation to remove about 50% of the brain. The Englishman was very concerned about the possible loss of half his brain (quiet in the French quarter), but the surgeon reassured him that he would end up speaking and sounding like an American. This almost caused a heart-attack on the part of the patient but he settled down after the clarification that as he would be for all intents and purposes, an American, he would be unaware of what he had lost. After all there are millions of Americans out there and none of them have half the brain of your average Englishman and they don't seem to mind it all (Oy, you yanks keep reading, the good bit is still coming).
The Englishman spent several sleepless nights pondering the quandary. Which was better: to be a dead Englishman or a live American. Not an easy decision. Just think, if he went for the operation, his friends would shun him and he would be the butt of jokes the whole world over. The thing that finally swayed him was the consideration that no Frenchman would ever consider speaking to him again.
The only problem was that the indepth consideration had taken time and the tumour was rapidly expanding. When the surgeon opened up the brain he realised that he would have to remove 75% to defeat the tumour. Now this is not the sort of operation where you can wake the patient up and ask permission. Nor could he afford to delay the operation for a few days to wait until the patient was clear of the anthesthetic. So he went ahead, cut out the tumour, cleaned everything up and waiting outside the recovery area, chewing his fingernails.
As soon as the nurse advised that the patient was coming around, the doctor raced in. He found the patient sitting up in bed looking around blearily. He started to apologise, explaining the risks and the growth of the tumour. The patient waved one hand in dismissal and said ....

NO WORRIES MATE! SHE'LL BE RIGHT.

[Ob. Exp: For the humour impaired (and those who only read half the joke), the phrase "No worries" is very Australian, and is also the correct translation of the Latin "Nullus Anxietas". Unlike some other cultures, Australians are quite happy to be the butt of their own jokes......]

Posted by Peskie at March 17, 2003 12:00 PM

Comments

Posted by: Rofl at May 29, 2003 12:05 AM