Everybody’s heard of the “Butterfly Effect” right? A butterfly beats its wings in South America and starts a chain of events that produces a tornado in some other part of the world. Well, today we’re going to take a look at the “Clingy Summer Dress Effect.” Never heard of it? Well, neither did I until Tuesday morning. Let me tell you about it.

I thought my ears were playing tricks on me when NPR ran a news story about a Muslim cleric that said women cause earthquakes. Let me repeat. He said women cause earthquakes. Thinking this was a delayed reaction April Fools’ Day gag, I checked it out. Sure enough, an Iranian cleric named Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi (we’ll call him H.K.) had a “divine” revelation. According to H.K.’s vision, women who dress immodestly “lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which increases earthquakes.”

Now, this may not be as far-fetched as it sounds at first. Here’s how it works in theory. An unsuspecting young man sees a shapely young woman walking toward him in a clingy summer dress. Before he can chastely avert his eyes, he finds himself anchored to the ground. He starts to tremble from his eyebrows down and the trembling doesn’t stop at the pavement. Shock waves migrate downward along earth’s most vulnerable channels until they touch the itchiest point on the fault line. This sets up a chain reaction and, in the blink of an eye, our young man is swallowed up in a dark chasm and the young woman continues on her way, oblivious to the cataclysm she’s caused. You can see how it could happen.

Here’s where we introduce the subject of “humor.” Originally, “humor” was a medical term. According to ancient philosophers, our bodies are comprised of four liquids — humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile and black bile. Stay with me, it’ll make sense in a minute.

These ancient doctors believed our personalities are determined by the way these “humors” are apportioned within us. If blood predominates, you’re supposed to be bright and optimistic; phlegm, slow and unflappable; yellow bile, impatient and short-tempered; black bile, dreary and pessimistic.

I might be wrong here, but I suspect these ancient theorists could diagnose your “humor” composition by your response to the story about women causing earthquakes. Here’s a quiz they might use to arrive at a diagnosis. “Do you think the story is (a.) funny, (b.) stupid, (c.) scary, (d.) sad. Where do you think H.K. would fall on the ‘humor’ scale?”

That brings us, of course, to “humor” in the modern sense; meaning comical or light-hearted. I’ve heard it said you can survive the loss of any of your senses except your sense of humor. American educator Frank Moore Colby once observed, “Men will confess to treason, murder, arson, false teeth or a wig. How many will own up to a lack of humor?”

I don’t mean to keep picking on H.K. here, but you have to wonder whether, in private, he could be brought to chuckle at the suggestion that the incidence of earthquakes increases in relation to rising hem lines and/or plunging neck lines. Come on, H.K. Lighten up. And that goes for you guys that bullied the radio stations in Somalia into cutting music out of their programming because it’s “un-Islamic” and those who bullied schools into discontinuing the use of bells. Way too much yellow and black bile if you ask me.

When it comes to humor, every columnist in America owes a debt to Erma Bombeck. Her wit, wisdom, determination and courage have inspired, amused and fortified countless thousands of her readers. She found ways to shine her humorous light on the simplest things. She invited us to laugh with her and she was never afraid to wink at us when we laughed at her. Today, April 22, is the 14th anniversary of her death. As a classy battler for the Equal Rights Amendment, we might surmise that she’d have a thing or two to say about H.K.’s divine revelation. We know for sure what she had to say about humor. “When humor goes, there goes civilization.” Amen.

I’m Hink and I’ll see ya.