NOTE: This weekend challenge has been completed. If you’d like to guess the clues just for fun, go ahead, then see here for the answers and the name of this past weekend’s winners. 

Players seemed to enjoy last weekend’s Skewed Clues, so we’ve brought them back for a new edition. Instead of the U.S. states offered in the last Genius Challenge, we’ve headed overseas this time around. Below are 15 Skewed Clues to the names of foreign nations. The object is simple: Guess which country is being referred to in each clue. We’ll start you off by giving you the answer to #1, one of the easier ones… “No one wins or loses” would be “Thailand.” Get it? Tie-land? Good. Here we go:

1. No one wins or loses?
2. Sick of ladies’ undergarments?
3. Where the dead live?
4. Land of carry-outs?
5. Where you can hold your head up?
6. It’s not easy being here?
7. It’s the word?
8. “e,” but without the “L”?
9. Home of Alfalfa?
10. Al’s not Down Under?
11. A great place to hang?
12. With or without the Sun God?
13. We are the Third Power?
14. Three Strikes?
15. Sheep, laughs, and mothers?

When you’ve figured them all out (or think you have), leave a comment to this post with your 15 numbered answers. You only get one shot, so be careful. The first with all correct (or the one with the most correct by Monday) will win a T-shirt!

FOUR IMPORTANT NOTES:

• One entry per player.
• At the end of your post, write which T-shirt you want from the store (you can browse all of our punny shirts by clicking the link above!)
• Comments are moderated, so they won’t show up until we release them. The correct answers (and the winner’s name) will be revealed first thing Monday morning.
• Due to the “esoteric” nature of this puzzle, your answers must match ours to win the prize, even if you have an alternate answer you think is valid. That said, if you’ve got a really hilarious and plausible answer that doesn’t match ours, you just might get a shirt out of that too.

Good luck!

Well, almost. With just 6 (six!) days to go until our new book’s release, mental_floss is happy to present another set of origins. Enjoy!

Holy Architecture!

When it comes to the history of religious architecture, we pray we’ve got the facts right.

Karnak: One Beautiful Pyramid Scheme

No religious site in Egypt dazzles more than the Karnak. The largest temple ever built, the Karnak is really a complex sprawling across 247 acres of land and constructed over 2,000 years, starting in the 15th century B.C.E. The ancient name of the temple, Ipetisut, means “the most sacred of places,” and the main temple was dedicated to Amon, the central god of Thebes.

Unlike other religious structures—dedicated to one or a few deities—the Karnak represents every god and goddess from Egyptian civilization throughout two millennia. As each ruler came into power, he added new images, courts, halls, truncated pyramids (called pylons),and sphinxes. From a design stand point, the different influences created a site without a coherent style, but they also etched the history of Egypt in stone
In ways that we wouldn’t usually see. Later generations tend to tear down the work of the civilizations that came before them, but instead the Karnak shows off the work of generations of ancient builders, making it a time capsule of the Egyptian empire.

Stupafly: The Great Stupa at Sanchi

For the origin of this religious site, first we’d better explain what a stupa is. The earliest Buddhist religious monument, a stupa is simply a mound of mud, clay, or other materials used to cover relics of the Buddha. But let’s back up for a second. After the Buddha passed away some time around the 4th century B.C.E., he wasn’t buried immediately. Instead his remains were cremated and divided to be buried under eight stupas (plus two more for the urn and the embers). We don’t know which were the original monuments, but the Sanchi is rumored to be an embellishment of one of the mounds.

After the Indian emperor Ashoka converted to Buddhism in the 3rd century B.C.E., in a fit of religious zeal, he had the original stupas opened and the remains redistributed to the thousands of stupas he’d built in honor of the Buddha. Ashoka also commissioned the Great Stupa at Sanchi—a half globe structure made of bricks built over the Buddha’s ashes with an accompanying obelisk to mark the spot. The interesting part about the decision to build the grand structure was that Sanchi wasn’t considered sacred because of any event in Buddha’s life—or even the lives of the Buddhist monks. Rather, it was chosen because the Hill of Sanchi was very near the richly populated city of Vidisa, plus two important trade routes and rivers, and because it was visible from a distance (thanks to the height of the hill). Most important, though, it was both quiet and secluded (the best atmosphere for meditation). Location,location,location!

Dome Improvement: The Church of Hagiya Sophia (Ayasofya)

More after the jump!

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I’m currently visiting my old haunts in NYC, and on my shortcut today through Gramercy Park I saw a sign that warned of a $350 fine for honking! The East Coast-West Coast stereotype seems to hold true: no one honks in LA, and everyone honks in New York. Why is this? Now I know that LA has its own exorbitant but perhaps understandable fines–riding in the carpool lane will set you back some, and now running red lights at some intersections will dock you $400–but I really thought the sign was a joke at first: New York’s metronome seems to be a series of honks.

As soon as I read the sign, I listened for honks, and was impressed when I realized I hadn’t heard any in some time. It was like being in a well-run children’s library–where the silence is more high stakes because it seems so unlikely. One minute later, some honking commenced a block away, and I wondered if anyone was going to jot down the plate number and report the honking offender. I’ve never reported someone for violating a traffic law, but there have been times when I’ve been tempted, and I’ve seen angry citizens keeping vigil by improperly parked vehicles they’ve just reported. But I’m wondering: have you ever been proactive and “told” on someone who might have otherwise escaped the law?

In case you didn’t see it, we’re back with another caption contest! Thanks to all who entered our first round a couple weeks ago and to all those who took the time to vote. Today’s cartoon doesn’t feature any of your favorite bloggers (at least I hope it doesn’t), rather, a couple of swine illustrated by the very talented Jessica Schiffman.

To repeat the rules from last time, the idea here is quite simple: Your job is to come up with a gag. Make us smile, make us laugh, extra-points for those who are able to drop some interesting fact or trivia along the way.

We’ll narrow down the entries to our favorites and then let YOU guys pick one winner. The only difference this time around is this: when dropping your gag in the comments, also let us know which t-shirt you prefer in case your caption is selected the winner. (T-shirts can be found over in our store.)

As another famous pig liked to say, “That’s all folks!” May the best gag win. [The contest will stay open through the weekend. Look for finalist results early next week!]

click cartoon to enlarge

Every weekday until Halloween, I’ll be offering up trivia treats about sweets you’re likely to encounter on October 31st. Today it’s caramel & candy apples.

1) Caramel apples are almost exclusive to the United States. Other countries are more familiar with toffee apples or candy apples.

2) Candy apples are commonly served in the U.K. on Guy Fawkes night.

3) The world’s largest candy apple was made in 2006 in, surprise, the Big Apple (==>). The apple was created in Bryant Park by pastry chef Bill Yosses to help promote Splenda sweetner. Ten thousand apples, 100 gallons of candy coating and 800 pounds of Splenda were used. You could eat the whole thing for only 1,228,800 calories.

4) Want to make your own? Here’s a recipe.

We’ll end today with a question: When you were a kid, what was the best thing you got in your trick-or-treat bag? And what was the worst?

Yesterday: Tootsie Rolls. Wednedsay: Snickers. Monday: M&M’s.

We’ve been generous with the Halloween posts this year: Ten Epic Costumes, DIY Decorations, Gruesome Party Food, and plenty of Sweet Talk. So let’s keep that theme going with today’s installment in our Friday series. Tell us about your greatest costumes – the most elaborate, the most unusual, the most universally enjoyed.

Costumes I remember: Big Bird (Halloween, 1981 ====>), a Honker, a mummy, Hulk Hogan, and – during my beefy period – The Skipper, which only made sense standing next to my First Mate Gilligan. Separated, I was just a dude in a blue shirt and goofy hat.

And as a follow-up, we’ll take any stories you’ve got about trick-or-treaters. I just found this short recap of my Halloween from a couple years back:

The Suburban Halloween Report
November 1, 2005
I was only home for three trick-or-treat rings of my doorbell last night, but each fascinated me.

1. At 8:02 PM, a “kid” stopped by, alone, wearing a cape. He was pushing 20. Despite having my permission to “grab a handful,” this crusader took just one bag of Sour Patch Kids and, at my urging, a Tootsie Pop.

2. At 8:45 PM, I had my second visitor: a middle-schooler wearing a red t-shirt with the words “Skittles Candy” lazily ironed on. Even if executed brilliantly, this was a crappy costume. She was half-assing Halloween in every respect. Never even said trick-or-treat. To be fair, she couldn’t say anything to me, since she was talking on her cell phone. She took one Butterfinger. I did not offer her more.

3. Finally, at 9:37 PM, a group of four tweens dropped in. I have no idea what they were supposed to be; they looked like remnants of a more elaborate group costume. Perhaps other members of this group — members whose roles were essential — weren’t allowed to stay out past 9:30 on a school night. They sensed Halloween’s end was near and shamelessly horded my remaining candy.

Let’s do this again next year.

Taking a cue from guest-star _floss blogger A.J. Jacobs and his past week’s worth of postings on these pages, I thought I’d use the Wrap to look at some Biblical words found in the caves of Qumran in 1946: The Dead Sea Scrolls.

The San Diego Natural History Museum has mounted a fantastic exhibition featuring the 2000-plus year-old scrolls and has generously put together a enlightening list of facts for us. Plus, they’ve given us permission to repurpose a cool video on the scrolls, so be sure to check that out as well. (And if you live in Southern California, or think you’re going to be visiting before the end of the year, be sure to check out the museum’s Web site for tickets to this one-of-a-kind exhibit.)

Dead Sea Scrolls Facts

The Dead Sea Scrolls are the oldest known copies of the Hebrew Bible and Christian Old Testament: more than 2000 years old.

The scrolls were first found in caves along the shoreline of the Dead Sea in 1946. There are 225 caves in the area. Eleven caves yielded the scrolls. The search took place from 1946 to 1957.

A Bedouin goat-herder was the first person to discover the scrolls; he was looking for a lost goat which he thought had wandered into a cave. The goat-herder threw some rocks into the cave, hoping to route out the goat. He heard the rocks hitting the clay jars and knew something besides his goat might be in the cave. He did not understand their importance right away and took some of the leather fragments to give to his co-workers to repair their sandals.

(Many more interesting scroll facts after the jump.)

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Bill Watterson went to my college. Not with me, mind you; I graduated from Kenyon College, a cozy liberal arts enclave in Ohio, in 2001 — Watterson, famous for creating the world’s best comic strip, Calvin and Hobbes, preceded me by nearly twenty years. We’ve matriculated minor presidents (Rutherford B. Hayes), legendary poets (Robert Lowell), great scientists (Carl Djerassi, who developed the first oral contraceptive pill) and even some famous flossers (my good friend John Green) — but perhaps no alumnus is as vaunted, especially by my generation, who grew up on Hobbes, as cartoonist Bill Watterson.

The oldest private college in Ohio, Kenyon isn’t a place where change comes fast. So my college experience shared a lot of DNA with Watterson’s: many of the same teachers and traditions from 1980 remained in 2000, and I instantly recognize our alma mater in the cartoons Watterson drew for the yearbook and the school newspaper, The Collegian, when he was a student. Lucky for Watterson fans everywhere, a contemporary of his recently scanned and posted some of these rare early works, which can be found here.

Allow me to contextualize a few of them.

Nine stories tall, Kenyon’s Caples residence hall is the highest, and quite possibly the ugliest, building in rural Knox County, Ohio. It’s an architectural anomaly in the Soviet-bloc style amidst a campus filled with graceful 19th-century buildings, and its warrens of tiny, freezing rooms are arranged around depressing, windowless common areas (known somewhat aspirationally as “suites”). February at Kenyon can indeed be depressing, especially if you’ve been sentenced by the Housing Office to spend it in Caples — as the subject of this comic has. (By the way, fans of Hobbes will recognize this guy as an early version of Calvin’s dad, who we can be fairly certain was meant to resemble Watterson himself.) (more…)

String Theory explained in two minutes. I still don’t understand it. It’s a good thing there are several explanations.

The brain regions responsible for optimism have been located. I always thought it was somewhere between your smile and your heart.

15 Famous Ghost Photos. Even when I could think of a logical explanation, these gave me the willies.

Crazy Things You Can Say to Get Everyone’s Attention. The first one was posted as a headline on a popular aggregator site and got quite a few phone numbers in comments from true believers.

There are wonders underground, and caves are born in many different ways.

A NYtimes article published today discusses DNA testing as a “family history research tool.”

Among the famous whose DNA has been tested is Marie Antoinette, who belonged to maternal Haplogroup H (along with about half of all Europeans).

Katie Couric (maternal Haplogroup K) is genetically linked to a 5,000-year-old iceman whose body was recently discovered in the Alps. And Jesse James? T2, a subgroup of maternal Haplogroup T.

Whether you’ve mapped your family’s taproots or would rather forget them, you’ve probably had to at least consider those who came before those who came before you—for scholarships, or medical histories, or perhaps to rationalize some quirk or talent. I have to say I’ve never been that interested in the fame or foibles of my own genetic line backwards; maybe I’m a hopeless solipsist, maybe I’m banking on reincarnation; my lazy historical eye aside, there are a few notables who’d stand out whether I was wrought from their blood or not. Namely, my saloon-operating great-great grandmother who partied & patrolled in Buffalo, NY. And I’d love to be able to regale you with gypsy rock stars who flanked the Vltava River on my mother’s side, but the results aren’t in yet, so I’m going to hand this one over to you: who is the most fascinating, mysterious, or just plain irreverent person occupying a box seat in your family tree? Or: would you (or have you) shed some blood to find out more about your ancestry?