[the only Montenegro I have any personal experience with]
Solid stacks, minimal gunk, pretty good. The most annoying thing about the puzzle to me, personally, is its physical shape, its particular black-square arrangement, which cuts this puzzle almost in two and really chokes off the whoosh. Here, I'll show you. This is me, almost exactly halfway through:
As you can see (I hope), there are multiple entryways into the empty half of the grid, obviously (four of them), but they are all teeny tiny, particularly at the top and bottom, and even if you manage to poke an answer through one of them (as I did with OPENS), you don't really get any good traction because you end up in the middle of a bed of long answers. The way I keep up flow and maintain traction is by access to somewhat shorter fill (easier to get at first glance than longer fill, on average), so having passages narrow and having very little to grab hold of via crosses meant an annoying kind of halt and reboot. Like there were two puzzles. I basically had to start over. Heavy segmentation is not my favorite thing on any puzzle, but esp. not on a Friday puzzle, when I crave whoosh (not necessarily speed, but that feeling of one thing flowing into the next into the next etc.). Getting into that second half of the grid was not, ultimately, that difficult. But still, did not like having my flow interrupted so drastically. I did, however, like the NW and SE corners—no clunkers in those longer answers—and the puzzle ended up putting up a halfway decent fight, which I appreciated.
The hardest part of the puzzle for me was ... well, you can see, if you look at my screenshot of the finished grid (above) that the last thing I wrote into the puzzle was BALKAN (34A: Montenegrin, e.g.). Everything in and around BALKAN I have circled in green ink on my printout and shaded in, so there's this giant greenish blob from the -DED in WOODED up through ROTH, whose name (LOL) I once again forgot. I know a Tim ROTH and I know ROTH IRAs and if I'm lisping I know Betsy ROTH but that's it. I think my brain is incapable of retaining any more ROTHs. [update: as several readers have reminded me, I do know other ROTHs: David Lee and Philip, to name two]. I have never and will never read those "Divergent" novels and I have never and apparently will never remember Veronica ROTH's name. It's a curse. I'll just have to live with it. As far as everything else inside the green blog—I came at it from below so first had trouble with TAX DODGES. I had the -ODGES part and wanted to be dealing with some kind of LODGES (31D: Shelters some look to when duty calls?). "Shelters" are structures and LODGES are structures and DODGES really aren't, so I was baffled. I wanted WOODSY for 39A: Sylvan, which forced DODGES but then also was wrong (it's WOODED), so my confidence in anything through there grew faint. That clue on X-MEN did nothing for me (37A: Fictional subjects of 13 movies between 2000 and 2020). 13 movies!?!? Yeesh. Why? I was fully prepared to write in ENTS at one point (how many LOTR/Hobbit movies have there been?). I was thinking of TV / the movies / drama as the context for 28D: Made a scene, say (FILMED). I just wasn't thinking of FILMED (for a while). And FARRO, forget it, no way I'm getting that grain without help from crosses (28A: Grain that once fed the Roman army). I was never fully stuck in this area—it just got real gummy. Nowhere else did toughish clues come in a clump like this.
Lots of little errors today. WOODSY was one. The most consequential error was probably up to where I wrote in "Just a FAD" (5D: Just a ___ = TAD). Actually, I think I wanted DAB before that, but LET'S DO LUNCH eliminated that, and I was left with -AD. Just a FAD. Makes sense to me. But then I had STAR F- at 1A: First impression of a new video game? and the only 11-letter word or phrase I know that starts STAR F- is not something you'll ever see in the NYTXW, so ... that was a no-go. Eventually noticed that TAD would give me START at the beginning of 1A, and that's how I got START BUTTON (a good answer and a great clue, it turns out). I really like the strange finger-based "?"-clue symmetry of 1A: First impression of a new video game? (START BUTTON) and 57A: Digital deals for young people (PINKY SWEARS). Unless you're hitting the START BUTTON with your elbow or forehead or something. Then I supposed that particular symmetry would be lost on you. Any other outright errors? Nope. I had no idea who the SVEN guy was (48D: Longtime soccer manager ___-Göran Eriksson), but otherwise, outside of the green blob, this was a fairly easy puzzle.
Bullets:
54A: Home security inits. since 1874 (ADT) — The "since 1874" bit sounds suspiciously ad-like. Next it'll be [Home security inits. you can trust]. ADT is about the worst thing this grid has to offer in terms of fill quality. Unless you're a French-hater, in which case you're probably more mad at ICI (52D: Pas ___ (somewhere else: Fr.)). "Pas ICI" means literally "not here."
6D: Emits a stream of hot air (BLOVIATES) — I love this answer. "It figures!" Alright, alright, settle down.
7D: Satellite transmission path (UPLINK) — "path" had me thinking of orbits. Had the "P" and briefly considered APOGEE ... but that's a point in an orbit.
APOGEE: the point in the orbit of an object (such as a satellite) orbiting the earth that is at the greatest distance from the center of the earth (merriam-webster.com)
8D: Hit the ground loudly (THUDDED) — disguised past tense ("Hit"). Tricky.
9D: Hyperbolic amount of work (TONS) — I wanted this to be more work-specific. TONS is a hyperbolic amount of anything. A hyperbolic amount of spaghetti, for instance.
14D: Pleasurable place to do business? (SEX SHOP) — I follow a sex shop on Instagram. Bet you didn't expect to see that sentence today. Smitten Kitten is very close to where my best friends live in Minneapolis and they have been an important voice in the resistance to I.C.E., as well as an important source of support for their neighbors who are being hunted and living in fear. Their social media posts are funny and fearless. I don't think I've ever actually been in Smitten Kitten, but next time I'm in town, I'm going, if only to say "love your work." I'm pretty sure following Smitten Kitten on Insta helped me see SEX SHOP today quicker than I would have otherwise.
43D: ___ Buena (island in San Francisco Bay) (YERBA) — didn't know this and yet somehow also it's the first thing I thought of. If you'd asked me what I thought "YERBA Buena" was before today, I'd've said something like "uh... a town near San Diego?" The only island I know in the Bay is Alcatraz.
44D: Exiled character in "King Lear" (EDGAR) — deep cut. Pretty tough, as Shak. clues go. Without crosses, I'm not sure I'd've remembered it off the top of my head.
32D: The good life, in Spanish vernacular (PURA VIDA) —this phrase is specifically Costa Rican. I saw it all the time when I was down there on vacation (a long time ago, now).
That's all for today. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: GENDER EUPHORIA (14A: Feeling that a new haircut or a new set of clothes might bring) —
Gender euphoria (GE) is a term for the satisfaction, enjoyment, or relief felt by people when they feel their gender expression matches their personal gender identity. Psych Central's definition is "deep joy when your internal gender identity matches your gender expression." It is proposed that feelings of gender euphoria require societal acceptance of gender expression. In academics and the medical field, a consensus has not yet been reached on a precise definition of the term, as it has been mainly used within a social context. The first attempt to rigorously define gender euphoria through an online survey took place in 2021, conducted by Will Beischel, Stéphanie Gauvin, and Sari van Anders. Transgender congruence is also used to ascribe transgender individuals feeling genuine, authentic, and comfortable with their gender identity and external appearance.
The term gender euphoria has been used by the transgender community since at least the mid-1970s. Originally, it referred to the feeling of joy arising from fulfilling a mix of gender roles, which was different from the concept of gender dysphoria, which is used to describe individuals who wished to medically transition to a different sex.In the 1980s, the term was published in trans contexts, coming up in interviews with trans people. For example, in a 1988 interview with a trans man, the subject states, "I think that day [Dr. Charles Ilhenfeld] administered my first shot of the 'wonder-drug' must have been one of the 'peak-experiences' of my life -- talk about 'gender euphoria'!" The interview indicates he is referring to testosterone. (wikipedia)
• • •
[15A: Child support?]
Saturday euphoria is a little different from Friday euphoria. On Friday, I like things to be a little difficult, but what I really like is whooshing and zooming around the grid by way of long, original, entertaining answers. The whoosh is the euphoria. On Saturdays, on great Saturdays, the euphoria is slower in coming, since the solve is more of a grind. Frustration, even annoyance, that then releases into "oh ... yeah, that's good, actually"—that's the stuff I'm looking for on Saturday. And I got plenty of it today. This puzzle had the kind of "difficulty" I like—not (that many) obscure answers, but tricky, mischievous, misdirective cluing that has you spinning your wheels ... until you finally get traction and (ideally, maybe grudgingly) find yourself appreciating both the answer and the clue's cleverness. The biggest "screw this!" to "wow, ok, that's good" swing I experienced today came with END RANT (2D: Means of closing up a vent). I had an inkling that "vent" was going to mean something other than the expected "opening that permits the escape of fumes, steam, etc." If you're "closing up" is the phrase you'd use for sealing a physical "vent"— that's what the clue wants you thinking about, so you don't see the other kind of vent, which is the intended one. It's Saturday, so my instinct is to look for the off-/alt-meaning, always. But even so, I couldn't find the handle on the answer today, and ended up writing in ENTENTE (a friendly agreement between countries ... maybe the countries are less hostile now and so they've stopped venting at each other? I dunno, it made some kind of sense when I wrote it in—and so many common letters ... it seemed possible). Then, because END RANT ran right through a three-letter tennis player (ANA) whose name could've been anything—IGA (an actual tennis champion's name), IDA (my cat's name), INA, UNA, ENA—I didn't have the "A." At some point I did get that second "N," but instead of helping me get END RANT, all it did was make me hallucinate an END RING (you know, the thing you pull to close up the vent!) (UGH!). But when, eventually, I got END RANT, after a second of two of "dammit!" resentment, I had to admit that yes that is a current, much-used phrase (mostly in social media posts), and a good one. An original one, at least. That END RANT fight is the kind of fight I wish puzzles gave me more often.
But what makes this puzzle really lovely are the stacks, both of which (up top, down below) are strong and vivid. Or at least two-thirds strong and vivid. Can't say I care too much for SENIOR CENTERS or ONLINE CASINOS, but the rest of those long Acrosses are solid. And I say this as someone who gave up on Marvel movies years ago—still didn't mind seeing AVENGERS: ENDGAME in the grid. And loved HALLOWEEN PARTY (as clued) (48A: Scene for a skeleton crew?), SECURITY BLANKET (as clued) (15A: Child support?) and GENDER EUPHORIA (especially as clued—the clues are the highlights today, as much as the answers themselves) (14A: Feeling that a new haircut or a new set of clothes might bring). Those answers come bursting out of nowhere. The clues get you thinking about one thing, and then hit you with another. Over and over and over. Clever misdirection—that's the key to Saturdays, I think.
[23A: Horn-heavy genre]
Now, "I SAID 'STOP'" is a bit of a made-up phrase (not as common as, say, "I SAID 'NO'"), but it seems pretty standalone-worthy to me. But there really weren't any answers that made me utter a genuine "UGH!" of disgust. And there was a HOST (31A: Bevy) of answers that made me say "Wow." KISS ARMY! (24D: Fan group that often wears black-and-white face paint) That takes me back.
SHOWBOATS is a great word, as is ESCHEWED (30D: Forwent). GETS WISE, PAPER THIN ... the hits keep coming, and the grid hardly buckles at all. The closest thing to a "buckle" for me was Charlie PUTH, but he's going to be a feature not a bug for some people—he's a very popular contemporary singer-songwriter, and this is his debut NYTXW appearance (27D: Charlie with the 2016 hit "We Don't Talk Anymore"). If you're pop culture-averse, I suppose there are a handful of reasons to dislike this grid, but if you count up the pop culture answers in the grid, there really aren't that many. I actually think there's very nice balance to this puzzle, in terms of the variety of answers. The difficulty mostly involves wordplay. That's something I'd like to encourage. We all have to deal with mystery proper nouns from time to time—as long as we're not inundated, I don't think there's a problem. Charlie PUTH's debut single was "Marvin Gaye." I think I'd rather listen to actual Marvin Gaye. Let's listen to Marvin Gaye.
[33D: Dad-blasted]
I know I said I stopped seeing Marvel movies, and I have—completely. They hold no interest for me at all any more. That said, I might be coaxed back into the theater if Marvel released a movie called AVENGERS: END RANT. And speaking of the Avengers, I wish that clue on AVENGERS: ENDGAME had included the word "ironically" somewhere (42A: Penultimate film in a series of 23). It's the penultimate movie in the series but it's called ENDGAME? Inapt! Also, is the series really over? I feel like "penultimate" implies there is an "ultimate" movie and that that movie is the last one. But I assume they will just make more and more ad infinitum. The Internet is telling me there are 37 MCU movies, so I don't really know what this "23" refers to. Are there really 23 (!!!) Avengers movies??? You know what, I try very hard to know as little as possible about the MCU, so you don't have to answer the question, I'm good.
Bullets:
41A: Approx. 25% of it consists of national forests (ORE.) — this could've been anything. [Place with lots of trees], basically. I got ORE. (i.e. Oregon) entirely from crosses. I literally looked up the location of Corvallis just yesterday! (because a reader told me he was from Corvallis and I had to remind myself where that was). No help with this clue, unfortunately. Did you know Corvallis is the westernmost city in the contiguous 48 states with a population of more than 50,000? Me neither. Until yesterday.
50A: Chucked, informally (YEETED) — I love this word. Most new slang (i.e. slang that has come into being since I was young) seems silly and I don't want anything to do with it, but "yeet"—I love it. I love how it sounds. It's like the word for chucking something and the sound that you make when chucking something, simultaneously. It's just fun to say. And it's been in the puzzle before, so you should know it by now. This goes double / triple / quadruple for ELLE Woods and her having taken the LSAT. ELLE and LSAT were gimmes—they helped give me the traction that made this puzzle doable.
3D: Some joint promotions (TIE-INS) — pretty basic stuff, but because it's Saturday, I was rolodexing through every meaning I could think of for "joint." Do they mean knee? Do they mean marijuana cigarette? Prison??? The cruelest thing a Saturday puzzle can do to me is not zag. Just play it straight. I'll never see it coming.
10D: Native American people known as the "Nation du Chat" (ERIE) — gonna start calling my house "Nation du Chat" (oh, and I had CREE here at first):
[Wintertime in la Nation du Chat]
13D: One breaking a 108-year drought in 2016 (CUB) — the CUBs (in)famously hadn't won the World Series in 108 years when they finally won it in 2016. I knew this. But my brain decided the answer should be "on a scoreboard," so I wrote in CHI. Then CHC. :(
28D: God who rides in a chariot pulled by two giant magical goats (THOR) — as divine roads go, this one is hard to beat. I had the "T," so no problem (otherwise, I might've guessed ODIN).
49A: Where one might hope to find good deals on the internet? (ONLINE CASINOS) — saw right through this one ("deals" = cards), but still struggled, as the plural was not readily apparent. I guess you could argue that the plural is indicated by "deals," but presumably, if you're playing online poker, you're playing more than one hand, so multiple "deals" did not, in fact, make me think of multiple CASINOS. Oh well, just another way that Saturdays f*** with you—by hiding plurals. It's fine.
That's all. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: MONEY TREES (29D: Tropical plants said to bring good fortune) —
Pachira aquatica is a species of tropical wetland tree in the mallow family Malvaceae, native to Central and South America where it grows in swamps. It is known by its common names Malabar chestnut, French peanut, Guiana chestnut, provision tree, Saba nut, Monguba (Brazil), Pumpo (Guatemala) and Jelinjoche (Costa Rica) and is commercially sold under the names money tree and money plant. This tree is sometimes sold with a braided trunk and is commonly grown as a houseplant, although more commonly what is sold as a "Pachira aquatica" houseplant is in fact a similar species, Pachira glabra. [...] The name "money tree" is believed to refer to a story of its origin, in which a poor man prayed for money, found this "odd" plant, took it home as an omen, and made money selling plants grown from its seeds. (wikipedia)
***ATTENTION: READERS AND FELLOW SOLVERS IN SYNDICATION*** (if you're reading this in January, that's you!) : It's early January, which means it's time once again for my annual week-long pitch for financial contributions to the blog. Every year I ask readers to consider what the blog is worth to them on an annual basis and give accordingly. 2026 is a big year for me, as Rex Parker Solves the NYT Crossword will celebrate its 20th birthday in September. Two decades. The big 2-0. A score of years. One score and no years ago, I brought forth on this Internet a new blog, conceived in ... I think I'll stop there, but you get the idea. I've been at this a long time, and while it has been my privilege and joy, it has also been (and continues to be) a lot of work. Very early mornings, no days off—well, no days off for the blog. I do have two very able regular subs (Mali and Clare) who write for me once a month, as well as a handful of other folks who stand in for me when I go on vacation. But otherwise, it's just me, every dang day, up by 4am, solving and writing. I've never been this disciplined about anything in my life. Ask anyone. "Is he disciplined about anything else?" "No, he is not. Just this one thing. It's weird." And it's because I have a responsibility to an audience (that's you). Even after nearly 20 years, I'm still genuinely stunned and exceedingly grateful that so many of you have made the blog a part of your daily routine. Ideally, it adds a little value to the solving experience. Teaches you something you didn't know, or helps you look at crosswords in a new way, or makes you laugh (my highest goal, frankly). Or maybe the blog simply offers a feeling of commiseration—a familiar voice confirming that yes, that clue was terrible, or yes, that themer set should have been tighter, or wow, yes, that answer was indeed beautiful. Whether you find it informative or comforting or entertaining or infuriating—or all of the above—if you're reading me on a fairly regular basis, there's something valuable you're getting out of the blog. And I couldn't be happier about that.
["That's upside-down, sweetheart"]
Hopefully by now you can tell that for better or worse, what you get from me is my honest, unvarnished feelings about a puzzle. There's an explanatory element too, sure, but this blog is basically one person's solving diary. Idiosyncratic. Personal. Human. I'm not interested in trying to guess consensus opinion. I'll leave that to A.I. All I can do, all I want to do, is tell you exactly what it was like for me to solve the puzzle—what I thought, what I felt. Because while solving may seem like mere box-filling to outsiders, crossword enthusiasts know that the puzzle actually makes us feel things—joy, anguish, confusion (confusion's a feeling, right?). Our feelings might not always be rational, but dammit, they're ours, and they're worth having. And sharing. I love that crosswords engage the messy, human side of you, as well as the objective, solution-oriented side. If I just wanted to fill in boxes, without any of the messy human stuff, I'd solve sudoku (no shade, sudoku fans, they're just not for me!).
[conferring w/ my editor]
Over the years, I have received all kinds of advice about "monetizing" the blog, invitations to turn it into a subscription-type deal à la Substack or Patreon. And maybe I'd make more money that way, I don't know, but that sort of thing has never felt right for me. And honestly, does anyone really need yet another subscription to manage? As I've said in years past, I like being out here on this super old-school blogging platform, just giving it away for free and relying on conscientious addicts like yourselves to pay me what you think the blog's worth. It's just nicer that way. How much should you give? Whatever you think the blog is worth to you on a yearly basis. Whatever that amount is is fantastic. Some people refuse to pay for what they can get for free. Others just don't have money to spare. All are welcome to read the blog—the site will always be open and free. But if you are able to express your appreciation monetarily, here are three options. First, a Paypal button (which you can also find in the blog sidebar on the homepage, as well as at the bottom of every write-up):
Second, a mailing address (checks can be made out to "Michael Sharp" or "Rex Parker") (be sure to date them with the new year, 2026!):
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All Paypal contributions will be gratefully acknowledged by email. All Venmo contributions will get a little heart emoji, at a minimum :) All snail mail contributions will be gratefully acknowledged with hand-written postcards. I know snail mail is a hassle for most people, but I love it. I love seeing your (mostly) gorgeous handwriting and then sending you my (completely) awful handwriting. The human touch—it's nice. In recent years, my daughter has designed my annual postcards, but this year, grad school and NYC theater work are keeping her otherwise occupied, so I had to seek design help elsewhere. Enter Katie Kosma, who is not only a professional illustrator/designer, but (crucially!) a crossword enthusiast. She listened patiently to my long and disorganized list of ideas and in very short order was able to arrive at this year's design, inspired by film noir title cards.
I'm very happy with how it turned out. The teeny boxes inside the letters, the copyright credit ("Natick Pictures, Inc."), and especially that pencil lamppost—mwah! I know most people solve online now, and many paper solvers prefer pen, but the pencil just feels iconic, and appropriate for the card's throwback vibe. That lamppost was entirely Katie's creation. She was a dream to work with. Can't say enough good things about her.
Please note: I don't keep a "mailing list" and don't share my contributor info with anyone. And if you give by snail mail and (for some reason) don't want a thank-you card, just indicate "NO CARD."
Again, as ever, I'm so grateful for your readership. Please know that your support means a lot to me and my family. Now on to today's puzzle...
• • •
My favorite part of this puzzle is how I keep looking at my grid print-out and reading SOFA BED as "SON OF A BED!" In case you were looking for a new minced oath, there you go. From me to you, free of charge. Could come in handy. "'SON OF A BED!,' he exclaimed at his puzzle, repeatedly." Not this puzzle, though. This puzzle was fine. Solid. Right over the plate. Just fine. The marquee stuff didn't hum as much as I'd like in a late-week puzzle, but none of it is outright disappointing. The fill ... is the fill. It hangs in there. Maybe leans a little too much to the ERG/OSHA/ICEE/ETRE side of the tracks, but it holds up. The highlight for me was "I KNOW, RIGHT?," a colloquial expression popular enough to have its own texting initialism ("ikr"). According to howtogeek dot com (!), "The colloquial phrase, "I know, right?" has been around since the 1990s. It's strongly associated with the "Valley girl" stereotype, but gained more popularity in 2004 when the movie Mean Girls was released." I also liked CULT STATUS (11D: Distinction for a classic underground work). Great answer. Let's use it in a sentence:
It originated as a low-budget attempt to cash in on the enormous success of FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH, but VALLEYGIRL's genuine charm, perverse period flavor and breakout performance by Nicolas Cage ensured its enduring cult status. (AFI)
You know, Valley Girl! AS SEEN ON TV (if you have cable, probably). I'm gonna see how many times I can work Valley Girl into this write-up. . . nah, I think I'm done. Let's see, that's one two three ... four Valley Girls. Whoops, that's five. OK, now I'm done. Almost.
Do not put FONDANT on your APPLE SAUCE irl, it will turn out bad. Speaking of one answer on top of another, AS SEEN ON TV and "THERE'S MORE" pair very nicely. Unfortunately they both come from the world of adspeak, which I could always use less of, but I do like that the answers make sense together. Cohere as a corner unit. I doubt that RILKE is ever seen much on TV, but he is seen on AS SEEN ON TV today, so good for him. Sidenote: I don't think I've ever read a word by RILKE (50A: "Duino Elegies" poet). I associate his poetry with sallow romantic types. Wikipedia tells me: "In popular culture, RILKE is frequently quoted or referenced in television shows, motion pictures, music and other works when these works discuss the subject of love or angels. His work is often described as "mystical" and has been quoted and referenced by self-help authors." Gotta say, you're not really selling me on him, wikipedia.
OMG I only just noticed that this puzzle does CRISS CROSS / APPLESAUCE! And it literally crosses them. Amazing. Gimmicky, but sly. Clever.
My biggest TIE-UP today involved, yes, TIE-UP, which is to say it involved the latter part of WASH TUB and everything that ran through it (20A: Main component of a "gutbucket," a jug band instrument). I know the washboard is a "jug band instrument," but the WASH TUB, well, news to me. I feel like this isn't the first time I've been stumped by a "jug band instrument" this year. Oh yeah, here we go—had to know the whole gosh darn band for this puzzle back in September. That puzzle had WASHBOARD in it, as is right and true and good. This "gutbucket" stuff feels pretty Inside Jug Band to me. I don't dislike the answer WASH TUB though. Just ... when "board" wouldn't fit, I came to a stop. Not a T STOP, but ... actually, kind of a T STOP. A "Tub" STOP, anyway. I also had no idea what MONEY TREES were; or, rather, I had no idea that they were an actual non-metaphorical not-made-of-physical-money tree. I was gonna say that I only know MONEY TREE as a chain of dollar stores, but that's (more aptly) DOLLAR TREE. Lastly on the "I struggled with that" list is ERICA Banks. I know lots of ERICAs and a decent number of Bankses (Tyra, Ernie ... piggy?), but I do not know ERICA Banks. The title "Buss It" sounds promising, though. Let's find out.
[cw: profanity, booty, WASHTUB washboard abs]
"ASS!? E'EN ON TV!? 'Zounds!" — Shakespeare reacting to television nudity. Actually, more likely reacting to television donkeys. Actually, more likely reacting to television as a concept. Zombie Shakespeare would indeed be astounded by ass, or anything, on TV.
Bullets:
17A: Conspiracy theorist's accessory (TIN FOIL HAT) — conspiracy theorists are no longer funny to me in the least since they're currently busy at the HHS trying to kill everybody [I initially miswrote "DHS," but that's probably true too]
29A: What blue crabs do roughly 20 times in their lifetimes (MOLT) — look, I did not *know* this, but I was very proud to have gotten it off just the "O," which itself was, at that point, entirely theoretical (from "SHOOT!," which I wasn't sure of (21D: "Fiddlesticks!")).
34D: Hagfish lookalikes (EELS) — I kinda like the EEL clue arms race we're currently in the middle of. If I gotta see it every other day, then by all means, throw new stuff at me. Stuff like "HAGFISH" (NYTXW appearances to date: 0) (I was wrong! HAGFISH did appear once, back in 1966 [Cousins of eels]) (HAGFISH also appeared in A NYT acrostic from 2013). Why are they called HAGFISH? I guess eels do kind of (???) look like hags. HAGFISH are also known as "slime EELS." Are hags slimy?
36D: Company whose logo has a hidden arrow between its fourth and fifth letters (FEDEX) — is it "hidden" if it's in plain sight? Yeah, yeah, I read "The Purloined Letter," but still. Actually, you know what, I never noticed that arrow before, so I take it all back. Objection overruled!
40D: Word from the Greek for "folded paper" (DIPLOMA) — me: "ORIGAMI" also me: "That's not Greek, that's Japanese" further me: "ORIGAMI!!!!" Actually I had "DIP-" and thought to myself "DIP? Nothing starts with DIP-!" I was reading the "Di-" as a prefix, rhyming with the "Di" in "Lady Di." Whose DIPLOMA comes "folded?" Is rolling a kind of folding? Where am I? What are words?
55D: Whitehouse in D.C., e.g.: Abbr. (SEN.) — "Sheldon Whitehouse (born October 20, 1955) is an American politician and attorney serving as the juniorUnited States senator from Rhode Island, a seat he has held since 2007" (wikipedia).
56D: Physics unit equivalent to roughly 624 gigaelectronvolts (ERG) — pure crossword reflex. [Physics unit] three letters ERG. An electrical impulse at this point. I definitely knew what an ERG was at one point in my life (Physics being my only A+ in college—I know, right? stunning!). But whatever it means, the only thing it has meant to me since roughly 1991 is "a common three-letter crossword answer."
Time once again for 🌲🐈Holiday Pet Pics🐕🌲! Let's see who we've got today:
First there's Winnie, who's wondering "How in the world is this a 'holiday' picture? Are there presents? There better be presents, lady."
[Thanks, Gingy!]
Not much that's "holiday" about this next one either, though if you've ever tried to lie down to read a book (perhaps as a break from the hustle and bustle of the holiday season), and you own a cat, you've probably experienced something like this.
[Wesley cares not for Jane Austen. Stop reading this instant!]
Bochy here seems to have a toy in his mouth already but he's sure there are more toys under there. Quite sure.
[Thanks, Jim]
Rebecca sent in not only her gorgeous Pete the Cat (R.I.P, Pete) ...
... but also two views of Sunny, who is not going to miss a reason to celebrate this holiday season:
[Thanks, Rebecca]
A different Rebekkah (the two-K variety) sent in her whippet Sparkie, seen here at 9 weeks old, chewing on some kind of elf larva:
[Thanks, Rebekkah]
The next photo in the queue was also, improbably, sent in by a Rebecca, but we're gonna save that for next time ... nah, let's just do it now. Astrolabe here is being so dutiful and patient, I don't want to make him wait even one more day.
[Thanks, Rebecca]
That's all. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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A long time ago, I was solving this puzzle and got stuck at an unguessable (to me) crossing: N. C. WYETH crossing NATICK at the "N"—I knew WYETH but forgot his initials, and NATICK ... is a suburb of Boston that I had no hope of knowing. It was clued as someplace the Boston Marathon runs through (???). Anyway, NATICK— the more obscure name in that crossing—became shorthand for an unguessable cross, esp. where the cross involves two proper nouns, neither of which is exceedingly well known. NATICK took hold as crossword slang, and the term can now be both noun ("I had a NATICK in the SW corner...") or verb ("I got NATICKED by 50A / 34D!")