Why did the journalist cross the road?

NEARLY two years ago I wrote about Emma who, when aged three, wanted to be an ambulance driver and eight years later wanted to be an accountant.

Now she wants to become an economist.

I've tried all the old put down lines.

A man is walking along the road and comes across a shepherd with a huge flock of sheep. He bets the shepherd £100 to one of her sheep that he can guess the exact number of sheep in the flock. The shepherd accepts the bet. The man guesses 943, exactly the right number. The man picks up one of the animals and begins to walk off. The shepherd calls on him to agree on a double or quits bet - that she can guess the man's exact occupation. Agreed. The shepherd guesses: "You are the economic adviser to the Progressive Democrats".

The man is astonished and asks: "How did you know". The shepherd replies: "I will tell you when you put my dog back down".

She thinks this is fairly funny and likes the gender balance bit but wonders what difference it makes whether a shepherd knows the difference between a sheep and a dog, it's the underlying theory that matters.

How do you know which of two economists is from Davy Stockbrokers if they are out for a walk? "The one walking randomly."

She retaliated. How about the story about the three economists and the three journalists who went on a train trip, the journalists bought three tickets and the economists bought only one. When the ticket collector came around the three economists went to the toilet and when there was a knock on the door one of them handed out one ticket.

On the way back the journalists said they would do the same but this time the economists bought no ticket. When the ticket collector came around the three journalists went to the toilet and when there was a knock at the door they handed out the one ticket. The three economists took the ticket and went to the other toilet.

I countered with the one about the economist who jumped into his swimming pool and broke his neck.

He forgot to seasonally adjust the pool.

She then told one of her Albert Einstein jokes. Albert (no, not that one, the mathematician) died and went to the gates of heaven. While waiting outside he met three Irish people.

He asked the first what her IQ was and she said "150". "Let's discuss then my theory of relativity," said Albert. He asked the second what her IQ was and she said "120". "Fine," said Albert, let's discuss the theory of the perfectly competitive market. He asked the third what his IQ was and the reply was "50" (I hate these gender bias jokes). "Fine," said Albert, "let's discuss your predictions for the next general election".

I then tried a few light bulb stories.

How many Chicago School economists does it take to change a light bulb? None. If the light bulb needed changing the market would have already done it.

How many Trinity economists does it take to change a light bulb? Two. One to change the bulb and one to assume the existence of the ladder.

How many UCD economists does it take to change a light bulb. None, see, it's getting brighter already.

It then got dirty. She told the one about the traveller wandering on an island inhabited entirely by cannibals and coming upon a butcher's shop, which specialised in human brains. A sign in the shop read: "Scientists' brains £20 a lb; philosophers' brains £30 a lb; economists' brains £40 a lb and journalists' brains £100 a lb".

The traveller asked how was it that journalists' brains were so expensive. The butcher said: "It's because that you have to kill 10 times more journalists to get a pound of brains."

She said that the story was adaptable. If I wanted to substitute, for instance, chairpersons of the Independent Radio and Television Commission for journalists the joke would work just as well nearly just as well, she added unnecessarily.

In fact it would work better she said if it was both a chairperson of the IRTC and a journalist.

I TOLD her that an economist was someone who didn't have enough personality to become an accountant. I told her that an economist's usual question in her first job was:

"Will you have French fries with the hamburger?" That there were two kinds of economists: those who don't know and those who don't know they don't know.

She said how about the journalist and the economist who were watching a man and a woman arguing from their respective apartments across the street from one another. The economist asked the journalist: "Why will these two people never agree?" "Why?" asked the journalist. "Because they are arguing from different premises," said the economist.

I didn't get that one.

She persisted. "Why did the journalist cross the road? Because it was the chicken's day off."

I countered. Economists have predicted 15 of the last four recessions. "Not bad," she conceded, and went on.

"One the first day God created the Sun, the Devil countered and created sunburn. On the second day God created sex, the devil created marriage. On the third day God created a journalist. The devil deliberated throughout the fourth day and on the fifth day the devil created another journalist."

MY TURN. A group of economists were climbing in Macgillycuddy's Reeks. After several hours they became hopelessly lost. One of them studied a map, turning it around and around, gauging their location with it and a compass and finally pronouncing: "Okay, see that big mountain over there. We're on it."

Her turn: If you came across a journalist and a politician drowning in a lake would you (a) read the newspaper or (b) go to lunch?

Vulgar abuse is no part of an argument. What about the story of the economist, the priest and the psychiatrist playing golf behind a very slow four ball?

They keep complaining and eventually accost the caddie to one of the players in front. The caddie explained that the four slow players are all blind, that formerly they were fire fighters but all four lost their sight in a fire while saving children from an orphanage. They had managed to overcome their affliction even to the point of being able to play golf, albeit somewhat slowly.

The priest expressed his anguish for his impatience and offered to give them indulgences for nothing; the psychiatrist offered free therapy provided they had VHI cover, the economist wanted to know why they didn't play golf at night.

What does that prove, she asked?

You can't win with teenagers nowadays.