Costa Ricans informally / SUN 8-27-23 / Rahm who won the 2023 Masters / The Y of JPY / horribilis 1992 per Queen Elizabeth / Craft project with rubber bands / Second picture in an alphabet book, maybe / Title that shares etymology with "kaiser" / Protagonist of a touching story?

Constructor: Rich Katz

Relative difficulty: Easy

THEME: "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" — theme clues must be interpreted as if their first syllable referred to a letter of the alphabet:

Theme answers:

• DOWNWARD DOG (3D: Depose?) (two-word "pose" where both words start with "D")
• NICHOLAS NICKLEBY (24A: Entitle?) (two-word "title" where both words start with "N") (etc.)
• OFFICIAL ORDERS (51A: Omission?)
• BEST BUDDY (68A: Befriend?)
• GALILEO GALILEI (88A: Gee whiz?)
• MIDDLE MANAGEMENT (116A: Embosses?)
• TABLE TENNIS (72D: Tee-ball game?)

Word of the Day: ANNUS mirabilis (26A: ___ horribilis (1992, per Queen Elizabeth)) —

Annus mirabilis (pl. anni mirabiles) is a Latin phrase that means "marvelous year", "wonderful year", "miraculous year", "year of wonder" or "amazing year". This term has been used to refer to several years during which events of major importance are remembered, notably Isaac Newton's discoveries in 1666. [...] Annus Mirabilis is a poem written by John Dryden published in 1667. It commemorated 1665–1666, the "year of miracles" of London. Despite the poem's name, the year had been one of great tragedy, including the Great Fire of London. The title was perhaps meant to suggest that the events of the year could have been worse. Dryden wrote the poem while at Charlton in Wiltshire, where he went to escape one of the great events of the year: the Great Plague of London. // The title of Dryden's poem, used without capitalisation, annus mirabilis, derives its meaning from its Latin origins and describes a year of particularly notable events. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, Dryden's use of the term for the title of his poem constitutes the first known written use of the phrase in an English text. The first event of the miraculous year was the Battle of Lowestoft fought by English and Dutch ships in 1665. The second was the Four Days Battle of June 1666, and finally the victory of the St. James's Day Battle a month later. The second part of the poem deals with the Great Fire of London that ran from September 2–7, 1666. The miracle of the Fire was that London was saved, that the fire was stopped, and that the great king (Charles II) would rebuild, for he already announced his plans to improve the streets of London and to begin great projects. Dryden's view is that these disasters were all averted, that God had saved England from destruction, and that God had performed miracles for England. (wikipedia)

• • •

I have nothing to say about this theme. Well, not nothing, but almost. It was easy, it was remedial ... there it is. Make of it what you will. I got DOWNWARD DOG first and thought, "so it's just two-word phrases where both words start with the same letter?" and sure enough yes. That is it. There's wordplay in the cluing, of course, where ordinary words have to be interpreted as if they had something to do with the letters it sounds like their first syllables are making, OK ... but somehow this didn't add much enjoyment or levity to the whole solving endeavor. I guess [Peashooter?] is kinda cute as a way to get to POOL PLAYER, but most of these clues felt pretty listless. And the fill didn't come to the rescue in any way. It, too, just lays there. Mostly. Then there's MANYFOLD? I know the word "manifold," but MANYFOLD ... that is ... something. SIEGED. I know "besieged" but SIEGED, no, that's a new one. And what the hell is a "megagram"? Is that a real thing? I have to think it isn't, because ... well, TONNE is a pretty ordinary (if Britishly spelt) word, and when you have that word, why in the world would you say "megagram." Sounds like a really big telegram (Remember telegrams!? Me either!). LIDDED? Like ... my eyes? Sure, I guess that you could get a lawyer to defend that one, but all of these answers feel really marginal and screechy (as in "nails on a chalkboard"-y). AGRO- and not AGRI-!? (112D: Farm-related prefix). And that clue on OMAR, yeeeeeesh (114D: First name in neo-Marxism) (the letters "OMAR" appear in order in the "word" "neO-MARxism"). If "neo-Marxism" were a thing, maybe that clue would've landed better? I mostly just don't appreciate what the puzzle thinks it's doing today.

As for ANNUS horribilis ( 26A: ___ horribilis (1992, per Queen Elizabeth)) ... which Queen Elizabeth!? I mean, of course it's QEII, if the year in question is 1992, but come on. Have some respect for the far more important Queen Elizabeth: number your Elizabeths, please and thank you. Also, do you know, do you have any idea, why Queen Elizabeth (II) thought 1992 was "annus horribilis"?!? Well I assure you it has nothing to do with anything "horrible" happening in the world as a whole. No, it's the most selfish insular petty crap you can imagine, P.S. abolish the stupid monarchy, please and thank you. Here are Elizabeth (II)'s reasons why 1992 was so bad it deserved a hyperbolic Latin name (per wikipedia):

• 
  Publication of photographs pertaining to an affair between Sarah, Duchess of York, and Texan oil millionaire Steve Wyatt (18 January)
• Separation of the Queen's second son Prince Andrew, Duke of York, from his wife Sarah (19 March)
• Divorce of the Queen's daughter, Anne, Princess Royal, from Captain Mark Phillips (23 April)
• Publication of Diana, Princess of Wales' tell-all book Diana: Her True Story, revealing the problems in her marriage to the Queen's eldest son, Charles, Prince of Wales particularly his affair with Camilla Parker Bowles (The Sunday Times, 7 June)
• Publication of photographs of Sarah, Duchess of York, sunbathing topless with her friend John Bryan (20 August)
• Publication of intimate conversations between Diana and James Gilbey from a tape recording of their phone calls (24 August)
• Fire in Windsor Castle, one of the Queen's official residences (20 November)

After her speech had been recorded, one more notable event transpired: the separation of Charles and Diana (9 December). 

Yeah, your daughters-in-law thought your stupid sons were CLODs and they went after hotter guys, boo hoo. Maybe have better sons next time, I don't know. Man, I hadn't realized how much I hate monarchy until I started thinking about this stupid ANNUS clue. And I always cringe when the puzzle contains ping-pong or TABLE TENNIS, as it seems so obviously intended to ingratiate the puzzle to the editor (a famously serious and accomplished player). I'm not being fair, as the answer fits the theme very well, and yet ... yeah, that's just how I feel. It looks like fawning sycophantery, and I'm against it. 

There were no real challenges today, though there were a few stumbles. The hardest answer for me to come up with was REGISTRAR, largely because of its deeply ambiguous clue (43A: Record holder). I also had a bunch of tiny mistakes: AGRI- for AGRO-, AGAPE for AGASP (81D: Speechless with shock), LEILA for LAILA (always!) (67D: Ali who retired undefeated), DIET (?) for DUMA (45A: Russian legislature), the usual hesitation on the last vowel in LATKE ("is it 'E' or 'A'!?"). I also made one incredible mistake, namely: I had Y--K in place, looked at the clue (80A: 19th-century adversary of an 18-Down), and, despite having 18-Down in place (REB), and despite knowing very well that the War of the Roses did not take place in the "19th century," I chose only to focus on the word "adversary" and instead of YANK, I wrote in YORK (the House of York being notorious 15th-century adversaries of the House of Lancaster). Like ... you have to really commit to not reading the clue thoroughly in order to come up with YORK in that situation. I'm perversely proud of how perfectly bad that answer was. Hope you enjoyed the puzzle more than I did. If nothing else, it KILLS TIME, right? Right. 

See you next time.

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

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