THEME: none
Still jetlagged. Watched two full hours of TLC's "What Not To Wear" last night, and I'm still not sure why. Inertia? Got up at ridiculously late hour, and am just now getting around to blogging today's puzzle, which I did in bed last night. Puzzle was slightly easy for a Saturday, with no real killer areas. In fact, nothing stalled my forward progress until I hit the NE, where a couple of the longish down clues eluded me and I had to wait patiently for answers to reveal themselves. All in all, a very enjoyable experience, with some fantastic fill that I've never seen before. We'll start in the southeast, which I finished first, and in as fast a time as I've Ever completed a quadrant of a Saturday puzzle.
42A: "_____ Bayou" (1997 Samuel L. Jackson film) [Eve's]
Just the sight of the year "1997" freaks me out, both because it was a horrible year in my life for reasons too horribly personal to get into, and because in 36 hours it will be 2007, making 1997 seem like ancient history. I remember when decades seemed like huge swatches of time, but I submit that there has been hardly any substantial change in taste / fashion in the past decade. Everyone has a cell phone now, and iPods are insanely popular, but other than that ... styles are only slightly different. It's like we're asymptotically approaching the End of History. I demand more historical change. Where's my jetpack!?
Lastly, re: the SE quadrant, I like that 59A: Didn't stir at the right time? (overslept) is counter-echoed (yes, that's a word ... now) in the NW by 17A: Revelation (eye-opener), a phrase I hear every week on one of my yoga DVDs, at the point when I "sit back on your heels, coming into a toe stretch ... if this is an EYE-OPENER for you," you can wuss out and point your toes straight back behind you and Then sit down on your heels. I do not wuss out. OK, seriously, where was I?
34D: Cry while shaking (It's a deal)
28D: Childish retort (Does too!)
13D: Surfing mecca (Internet)
54A: Seat of County Clare (Ennis)
58A: Nonplus (addle)
60A: One who doesn't go past a semi? (loser)
These three answers, neatly stacked at the bottom of the SW quadrant, were squirmy and elusive ... eely, even. I had crossword stalwart YSER (51D: North Sea feeder) anchoring them all in their final positions, and I was pretty sure about 55D: Québec's _____ d'Anticosti (Ile), which gave me their penultimate letters, and still I couldn't polish them off. The LOSER answer dawned on me, but seemed awfully lame. "One who doesn't go past a semi" is someone who has WON a good deal more than she has lost.
1A: Gross measure? (ick factor)
This answer makes up for the rather banal answer right underneath it (15A: Modern conversation starter (cell phone)). Of course I Googled "ick factor" immediately, wondering how in-the-language it was. Seven of the ten hits on the first page of the search involved sitcoms: specifically, either "Friends" or "Sex and the City" (ugh). Here is an interesting write-up about the phrase from ABC NewsRadio (NOT the sitcom "NewsRadio," strangely, but rather a division of ABC - Australia):
Ick factor
Presented by Kel Richards ["Kel," HA ha - please see fabulous Australian sitcom "Kath & Kim" to find out why I am laughing]
William Safire, in The New York Times, recently reported on the rise of the expression “the ick factor”.
He quotes a film reviewer as saying that ordinary movie-goers are put off by the ick factor in some Hollywood products. While the The Wall Street Journal says that for home-screening colon cancer testing packs to become widely used, customers have to overcome the ick factor. The word ick is first recorded in 1935 – although the variation icky seems to go back to at least 1920. It seems to be related to mean words such as “sick” and “sticky”. At first the ick and icky group of words seemed to that which is overly sweet and sentimental. But over time this meaning broadened until these words came to mean, simply, “in bad taste” or possibly “gross” or even stomach wrenching. And now it seems that the ick factor has become the new way of naming that which we don’t like.
The crazy first four letters of ICK FACTOR spawn a bunch of interest crosses, with the former Sri Lanka (2D: Orange pekoe source, formerly (Ceylon)) and slang for a thief (3D: One to watch for in a pinch? (klepto)) bookended by a pair of Icy Answers: 1D: Cold spell (Ice Age) and 4D: Weddell Sea phenomenon (floe).
22A: "_____ Ramsey" (1970's western) [Hec]
14D: Refuses to deal with (boycotts)
As for BOYCOTTS - I was kicking myself at the end of it all, because I thought the idea of a word starting "BOY" - that was not a compound word or phrase like "BOY Scout" or "BOY band" - was absurd. Can't think of Any word that starts BOY... oh right, that. BOY disturbed me so much that I started thinking 18A: Ridiculous (nutty) was wrong - I've had trouble with variations on this word before, most notably in the great NUTSY debacle of Nov. 3, 2006. Maybe NUTSO was right. Or NUTTO. Criminy, you could make up any random suffix and attach it to NUT and it might be in the language ... somewhere. But no, NUTTY was right.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
I rented Eve's Bayou back in the day because of Ebert's rave review. See it.
ReplyDeleteI think we're getting global warming in lieu of jetpacks. IT'S A CRAPPY DEAL.
Elsewhere on the Internet, there was a constructor chat about the ME TOO/AM SO type of entry. I think it was Trip Payne and Stella Daily who said they were sick of 'em, but from a constructing standpoint, they're sometimes a necessary evil. You should play around and see if you can rework a corner of fill to get rid of the next childish retort without getting worse fill.
I reserve my right to complain without having to actually become a constructor myself. But I see what you mean. The first childish retort I saw, I thought it was cute. Now, less cute.
ReplyDeleteAnd alas, there are so many that could be used to bail a constructor out of a tight spot: DO TOO, DO NOT, NUH-UH, I DO TOO, I DO SO, AM SO, ARE SO, ARE NOT, ARE TOO, IS TOO. Though I wouldn't mind if someone tossed in a NUH-UH for a change.
ReplyDeleteFor what it's worth, for "ailon" you were probably thinking of "aileron", but ailerons are control surfaces on the main part of the wing. The little turned-up thingies at the ends of the wings are ... "winglets".
ReplyDelete-Tom Mc
Okay, is it just me? 50A Near failure. DEE??? I don't get it. Can anyone explain it to me. Trust me, I am not a blonde, although I am also not a rocket scientist, but still, I don't get it. Help
ReplyDeleteDEE = near failure
ReplyDeleteEFF = total failure
CEE = average
BEE = above avg
AIEEEEEE = what Fonzie says
RP
D'oh!!! Well it's just so obvious now! Thank you. I was all over the place with that one, thinking that Failure (even though it wasn't capitalized) was a city is Scotland, and the Dee river was near it!! Wow, talk about over thinking a Saturday clue. Thanks again!
ReplyDeleteThis puzzle appeared today in the Mpls Star Tribune. I'm still puzzled over 38A "Advertising associations" and 36D "Deck support borders."
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you don't remember the puzzle from six weeks ago. But I just need the one letter: 38A
TI?INS.
Never mind. Just got it. It's "TIEINS" as in tie-ins.
I still don't get "Deck support borders" ?EAMENDS.
Never mind again. Just got it. "Beamends".
I thought one of the best clues in this puzzle was 7D "Unable to hit a pitch" [tonedeaf]. Maybe I like it so much because I'm a choir director.
Anyway, I like your cool blog, Rex. And that puzzle was originally in your paper on my wedding anniversary.
Dec. 30 NYTimes puzzle: 50A. Near failure=DEE?
ReplyDeleteSay what?
You're not the first to ask, though you'll kick yourself when I tell you...
ReplyDeleteDEE= near failure
EFF= total failure
CEE= avg
BEE= above avg
AIEEEEEE= what Fonzie says
[I used this exact explanation for someone else who posted the question on a different day for some reason.]
RP