’21 A To Z Challenge – Q

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sugar and spice, and everything nice
That’s what little girls are made of.

Snakes and snails, and puppy-dog tails
That’s what little boys are made of.

Folks – some of them smart and educated – used to think that people, and the Universe, were made of some strange things.  They thought that all things were made up of four ‘Elements.’  Not elements like carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen, but the Elements of Earth, Air, Fire and Water.  You can build a fire, but I don’t know how even God could build anything except panic and destruction, from fire.

Having been constructed of the four ‘Elements,’ the human body then somehow related to them with the four humors of Black bile, Blood, Yellow bile, and Phlegm.  Our ancestors seemed to be a dour lot, not having any room for silly, playful, happy, or even Woke.

Four Humors – And there’s the humor of it: Shakespeare and the four humors (nih.gov)

Black bile – Earth – melancholic
Blood – Air – sanguine
Yellow bile – Fire – choleric
Phlegm – Water – phlegmatic

The four humors somehow worked the body through hot, cold, moist, and dry, but in hot/moist, hot/dry, cold/moist, and cold/dry combinations.

The four Humors were also known as the Four Essences, which, at long last, brings us to today’s word.

QUINTESSENTIAL

Having decided that only four Essences comprised and controlled the human existence and behavior, they realized that there were actually times and situations where a Fifth (Latin – quinta) Essence was present, or required – that indefinable, indescribable property that made a genius, a genius, or a great leader, a great leader.

Today’s archaic word was brought to you with a smile, by toast and crab-apple jelly.  Wednesday’s post will use more modern words to complain about how “Black Friday” isn’t really over, but like a zombie, keeps lurching onward as Black Friday Weekend, and Black Friday Week sales.  Then I’ll really get into character by ranting about all-Christmas carols, all the time, from now till the 25^th.  😉

HELP!

Help, I need somebody!
Help, not just anybody.
Help, you know I need someone.
Help!

I could have used some help with this week’s Flash Fiction. I went to Rochelle’s site and examined the photo prompt.  It looked like a couple of beef leg bones in a clear plastic public garbage bag.  The only thought I had was about some greasy-spoon diner that served overly large chicken wings.  You’re better off without that story.

I decided instead, to request aid and succor from my readers. This week, in several different places, I have seen a post of 15 questions given to 8 to 10-year-old children to find out if they are geniuses (genii).  I took the test myself.  I got the right answers to 13 out of the 15 questions, so I can probably outwit some students, before they enter Middle School.

For most of the questions, when the correct answer is revealed, it’s obvious. For three of the remaining four, when the answer is shown, a note pops up to explain why and how.  I got two of these right, and two of them wrong.  One of my errors was explained, but the other one wasn’t.

I was going to leave a comment/question, asking for clarification, but found that the test is based on Facebook, and I don’t have a Facebook account to access it. Have any of my readers seen this test?  Do you know what I’m referring to?  Do you know the answer?  Do you have a Facebook account?

Here’s the question that stumped me. I guess I’ll never grow up to be an insightful genius.

Bing is to Ding
as Hug is to….
Hit/Bug/Enemy/Friend

Transposing initial letters, and answering ‘Bug’, seemed a bit too simplistic for a question searching for geniuses, but it’s the one I eventually settled for.

The correct answer is ‘Friend!’  I see how the word Hug relates to Friend, but now I can’t divine a similar relationship between Bing and Ding.

A little help – please!   😳

Flash Fiction #87

PHOTO PROMPT © Sean Fallon

THE WRITE STUFF

Writing is easy. Any fool can do it – many try.

To be a good writer requires a bit of genius, which Edison described as 1% Inspiration, and 99% Perspiration.  Robert Heinlein said that a writer must write 2000 words each day, to keep the muscles and mind toned.

To be a successful writer, to assemble the right theme, the right title, a believable story arc and interesting characters, to capture and hold the readers’ attention, is like catching lightning in a bottle.

Here’s a Flash – none of that is Fiction.

The best of luck to all of us who try.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

***

My apologies for the clichéd title, but it is apt.

 

Mental Health

The voice-mail menu at the Board of Mental Health lists;

If you are obsessive/compulsive, press #1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependent, have someone press #2 for you.
If you have multiple personalities, press #3, 4 or 5.
If you are possessed by Satan, press #666.
If you have gambling problems, press #7 – 11
If you hear voices, press whatever number they tell you to.
If you are paranoid, just hang up. We know who you are, and are coming to get you.

***

A high school science teacher standing in front of a class of seniors, suddenly asks, ‘What part of the human body is seven times as strong as steel, pound for pound? Miss Johnson??”

Startled, Southern Belle, Miss Johnson replies, “Well, I’m sure I don’t know. I can’t understand why you would ask me a question like that!”

The teacher says, “The answer is, a human hair. And you, Miss Johnson, are an optimist.”

****

If the world is my oyster, I think I’m allergic to shellfish.

The difference between genius and stupidity, is that genius has its limits.

***

Ol’ Fred had been a faithful Christian and was in
the hospital, near death. The family called their
pastor to stand with them. As the pastor stood
next to the bed, Ol’ Fred’s condition appeared to
deteriorate and he motioned frantically for
something to write on. The pastor lovingly handed
him a pen and a piece of paper, and Ol’ Fred used
his last bit of energy to scribble a note, then
he died. The pastor thought it best not to look
at the note at that time, so he placed it in
his jacket pocket.

At the funeral, as he was finishing the message,
he realized that he was wearing the same jacket
that he was wearing when Ol’ Fred died. He said,
“You know, Ol’ Fred handed me a note just before
he died. I haven’t looked at it, but knowing
Fred, I’m sure there’s a word of inspiration
there for us all.”

He opened the note, and read, “Asshole, you’re
standing on my oxygen tube!”

***

The nude model climbed up the ladder,
As the painter, Titian, had bade her.
The position, to Titian
Suggested coition,
So he climbed up the ladder, and had her.

The was a young lady from Bright,
Who could travel faster than light.
She set off one day,
In a relative way,
And returned the previous night.