Relative difficulty: Easyish (untimed ... see video, below)
THEME: "No idea!" — seriously, it's just phrases that mean "no idea!" clued as the answers to ridiculously obscure-seeming clues to which one might actually respond "no idea!":
Theme answers:
ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? (17A: Historic town in Veszprém county, Hungary, noted for its baroque architecture)
WHO THE HELL KNOWS!? (40A: Left tributary of the Vitim River in Irkutsk Oblast, Russia)
I HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE!? (63A: Village between Krszyna and Jacków in Silesian Voivodeship, Poland (pop. 305))
Word of the Day: CARA Delevingne (15A: Model/actress Delevingne) —
Not really in the mood for this one, or for April Fools shenanigans in general, as you can see for yourself if you play this video—real-time recording of me solving this puzzle on my computer, minutes after it came out (10pm Tuesday night)
The video is not an April Fool's joke, I assure you. It is me, rather wearily and earnestly solving the puzzle and commenting on it. If I ever do anything like this again, I'm gonna need better lighting and a real microphone, for starters. But whatever. It's different. It's something you haven't seen. And if it's something you'd rather not see again, because reading is better than watching, don't worry. I'll go back to the writing tomorrow.
["... see you tomorrow ..."]
Here's the tl;dr version of the solving video: no, thanks. The gag works the first time, with the first themer, but with the subsequent themers, I didn't even look at the clues, because I didn't have to. I just got crosses and looked for phrases meaning "no idea!" So I had an early moment of "ah, cute," and then, well, that was pretty much peak experience. After that, it was just a morass of subpar fill to wade through. The end. So watch the video. Or don't. I'll be back tomorrow. Take good care, everyone!
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
P.S. I could not find the Village between Krszyna and Jacków in Silesian Voivodeship, Poland (pop. 305) that the puzzle was asking about. Or, rather ... well, I found *something*. Let's zoom in, shall we:
"There goes my Baby!"
"Hello, Baby!"
"Nobody puts Baby in a corner ... of Poland!"
(etc.)
P.P.S. I am told that the *actual* theme answers are mama, papa, and ... baby ... like the bears ... For. Some. Reason. April ... Fools? I don't think the puzzle knows how April Fools works.
THEME: "Actually ..." — themers are terms that are misleading on a literal level:
Theme answers:
25A: ... it abuts water on only one of its four sides (RHODE ISLAND) (not an island)
32A: ... it's an ellipse (ST. PETER'S SQUARE) (not a square)
59A: ... it was predominantly German (HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE) (not really Roman)
83A: ... it's an American name for a German game (CHINESE CHECKERS) (not Chinese)
108A: ... They're of Indian origin (ARABIC NUMERALS) (not Arabic)
118A: ... It's a woodwind from Central Europe (ENGLISH HORN) (not English)
4D: ... It's a rodent native to the Andes (GUINEA PIG) (not ... Guinean?)
16D: ... It's a legume (PEANUT) (not a nut)
85D: ... They're lousy places to sleep (RESTROOMS) (says you!)
100D: ... It usually comes from sheep (CAT GUT) (not made from cat guts)
Word of the Day: Maxim GORKI (sp!?!) (4A: Russian novelist Maxim) —
Alexei Maximovich Peshkov (Russian: Алексе́й Макси́мович Пешко́в or Пе́шков;[1] 28 March [O.S. 16 March] 1868 – 18 June 1936), primarily known as Maxim Gorky (Russian: Макси́м Го́рький), was a Russian and Soviet writer, a founder of the socialist realism literary method, and a political activist. He was also a five-time nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature.[3] Around fifteen years before success as a writer, he frequently changed jobs and roamed across the Russian Empire; these experiences would later influence his writing. Gorky's most famous works were The Lower Depths (1902), Twenty-six Men and a Girl (1899), The Song of the Stormy Petrel(1901), My Childhood (1913–1914), Mother (1906), Summerfolk (1904) and Children of the Sun(1905). He had an association with fellow Russian writers Leo Tolstoy and Anton Chekhov; Gorky would later mention them in his memoirs.
Gorky was active with the emerging Marxist social-democratic movement. He publicly opposed the Tsarist regime, and for a time closely associated himself with Vladimir Lenin and Alexander Bogdanov's Bolshevik wing of the party. For a significant part of his life, he was exiled from Russia and later the Soviet Union. In 1932, he returned to the USSR on Joseph Stalin's personal invitation and lived there until his death in June 1936. (wikipedia)
• • •
GORKI is just wrong. Please don't try to lawyer this one, please don't wave some dumbass reference book at me, just know that no one knows him as GORKI. That spelling isn't even mentioned in his wikipedia write-up. It's GORKY. Just as the novel / movie is "GORKY Park." It appears that maybe the Germans stylize him as GORKI. But playing fast and loose with conventional spellings like this is awful. It will make you no friends. It is the worst of olde-timey crossword gimmicks come to life. Eschew avoid and elude this sort of nonsense, please. Bad enough I gotta remember that ENESCO can alos be ENESCU and vice versa. Stop the madness. As for the theme, it's fine. Mansplaining is bleeping annoying irl, and trivia like this just doesn't interest me much, and some of these aren't very "you don't say"-ish. I mean, I am surprised to learn that the ENGLISH HORN is not English, but I'm not sooooo surprised to learn that RESTROOMS are lousy places to sleep. Unless the constructor or Will has tried to sleep in a restroom, I don't count this clue as valid at all. Pictures or it didn't happen. Still, it's an interesting premise for a theme, and some of the revelations were real revelations, so no problems there. Fill-wise, things could've been much better. ASON ASLAP SSTARS and ENDE are really not good. Maybe you can have two of those, if you're desperate, but four is an awful lot. That's in addition to the GORKI baloni, remember. Still, I'm inclined to give this the mildest of thumbs-up(s). It went by quickly and the theme concept kept my interest.
I had my fastest time in something like five months, which is odd, because I feel like I really flailed around a lot, especially at the end. Hard enough to suss out the awful ENDE and RES, whose clue I don't even really understand (57D: Pixelatedness, for short). I guess if it's Hi-RES it has a hi(gh) number of pixels? OK. Still, though, with junk fill like RES, why do you want to draw attention to it. Really hate EXIT SIGNS, since actually (actually!) I don't see actual EXIT SIGNS at the clover leaf near my house (66A: Things around a cloverleaf). I do, however, see a ton (well, four) of EXIT RAMPS, which fits, and is the superior answer. Got through there only to get totally baffled by BOOT (82D: A rancher might pull one over a calf). Totally bit on the misdirect there. Wrong calf, for sure. But still I soldiered onward down that treacherous-feeling east coast until my worst moment—the SSE, where three abutting Downs (ITCH, DYNAMIC, USEBY) all eluded me, as did the ROOMS in RESTROOMS could've been so many things (I like my first answer REST AREAS, much better, because at least I can imagine someone actually *attempting* to sleep there, unlike a restroom, dear lord). This meant that ARABIC NUMERALS was hard to see. I thought maybe ARABIAN ... something. Couldn't get to STAID from 93A: Serious either. At all. Don't think I've ever used STAID to mean "Serious." So, as I say, flailing. And yet I finished under 9. Might've been something close to a record if not for the flailing. Rest of the puzzle I don't really rememeber, which is better than remembering it for the wrong reasons. Low pass. Good day!
Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium - below my average, but I was trying *very* hard
THEME: Alphabetical — Theme clues were just lists of letters that appeared (in order, but not necessarily consecutively) in the answers, with no other context or hint given.
Theme answers:
ABSCONDED (17A: ABCDE)
AFGHANI (21A: FGHI)
JUNKPILE (26A: JKL)
HEISMANTROPHIES (38A: MNOP)
SQUAREST (46A: QRST)
PURVIEW (55A: UVW)
OXYGENIZE (62A: XYZ)
Word of the Day: ANITA (33A: Who sings "America" in "West Side Story") —
Rita Moreno won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for her role as Anita in the 1961 movie version of West Side Story. She would go on to be the third person to win the EGOT, and is still tearing it up at 87 years old.
• • •
Hi, I'm George. I'm a professional technical writer and amateur trivia competitor / podcaster who has absolutely no idea how I got this gig, but onward!
My style is Chaotic Good -- difficult to describe, but generally (eventually) effective. I tend to look at 1A and 1D first and then proceed from there based on which one I get. SHOE (1A: Card holder at a casino) and SPAM (1D: Food invention of 1937) came quickly enough, and I bounced around the top a little, getting WILCO (18A: "Got it, I'm on it," in radio lingo) and ALLAH (11D: Figure also called "the Creator," "the King" and "the All-Seer") and HOWIE (13D: TV host Mandel) to have the northeast quadrant filled in soon enough.
Then I caught the theme, with AB_CO____ (17A: ABCD) making it apparent that the clued letters would be in the answer, and probably in order (I didn't think "ABDCO____" would be a thing). I had thought of ORSO (3D: Qualifying phrase) but wasn't confident enough, even with O__O there, but plugging it in gave me ABSCO____, which led me right to ABSCONDED.
Having JOHN (26D: Doe, a Deere?) and UKES (27D: Some of them come in "pineapple" and "soprano" varieties, informally) (a guess, but one that made sense) and SKYS (23D: "The ___ the limit") and FOGUP (15D: What bathroom mirrors may do) (I still don't know why that popped right into my head) led to JUNKPILE (26A: JKL). That let me cross a few more to get to HEISMANTROPHIES (38A: MNOP), which I rolled my eyes at -- every time I've heard someone speak of multiples of the award given to the most outstanding college football player by the Downtown Athletic Club, they speak of "Heismans". But that broke open most of the puzzle, so I'll let it go.
Oh dang look at all those HEISMANTROPHIES.
Fight on.
SPASM (49D: Uncontrolled jerk) and ERROL (51D: Flynn of "Captain Blood") and ANIME (40D: Cartoon genre) left P_R__E_ (55A: UVW) with not much wiggle room to plug in the theme letters, so PURVIEW was quick enough, and 46A: QRST more or less had to be SQUAREST, even without any crosses.
I messed myself up a little because I always (twice this week alone) mess up which seasons are in Daylight Time and which are in Standard Time. In my defense, the U.S. currently spends longer in Daylight Time, and that doesn't make sense. So I had MDT (52A: Winter Wyoming hrs.), and therefore had DW_R_ (53D: Symbol of power), so I naturally thought it was DWARF.
That threw me off of the crosses, and I spent way too long running through possible Irish names before giving up on 57D: Douglas ___, first president of Ireland. Eventually, I rethought my Daylight/Standard prejudice and realized that it was 52A was MST, and that the 53D would have to be SWORD.
From there, my Scrabble-brain saw OX__E___Z_ and summoned up OXYGENIZE (62A: XYZ).
I went back up to the northeast to finish up AFGHANI (21A: FGHI), which I will note for the record is the money of Afghanistan, while a person from Afghanistan is typically called an "Afghan".
The dross fill at the end was limited to CEN (58A: Long life: Abbr.) and NEED (60D: Kitchen, for a chef). Neither of those really sang to me, especially when all I had left was the cross between them to finish that corner.
But the wasted seconds at the very end were my own fault: I read "Accepted" as a verb, even after I had U_AGES right in front of me, and "Temperature test, of a sort" just didn't land, even with _IP. so I stared at that and rolled through the alphabet for a bit until S fell into place.
I liked this one. The fill was good, with nothing that was too egregious or overly crosswordy. The theme really fell into place, especially with good crossing words. It took me 8:02, slightly closer to my best (5:28) than my average.(11:44). Thursday is a weird point in my week (as I put it to Rex when he scheduled me, "I swear more at the Thursday puzzles."), but this one was mostly smooth for me.
Favorites:
INDIA (43A: Powerhouse in cricket) — I work at a software company, and I have a lot of coworkers of Indian descent. Every time there's a big cricket match, we get an all-hands email reminding everyone not to stream the match at their desk because it overloads the network. I'll give you one guess whether that works.
PUPPY (50D: Small part of a pound?) and MYLES (67A: Standish on the Mayflower) — I didn't remember that it wasn't "MILES", so I had PUPPI for a second there before I got the joke.
XII (63D: Common clock topper) — Second time in three days, and I don't remember the last time it was used before that. Seems odd. But I like this clue more than "Midnight, on a grandfather clock".
Signed, George Stankow
My other puzzling/quizzing passion is LearnedLeague, the Greatest Trivia League In All the Land. I co-host an extremely lo-fi podcast about it, available on Apple Podcasts and other platforms. If you'd like to hear a couple of A/B rundlers discuss each day's questions, search for "LearnedLag".
Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium (Medium for me, but I totally fell on my face right out of the gate ... I think it's somewhat easier than my time suggested) (5:53)
THEME: NO! — familiar phrases that start with "NO" are clued as if they are negative responses to question, i.e. you have to mentally supply a comma after the "NO"...
Theme answers:
NO, RHYME OR REASON (17A: Q: "Can I write both a poem and an essay?" A: "___")
NO, GREAT SHAKES (36A: Q: "Is that snack bar known for good burgers?" A: "___")
NO, MAN IS AN ISLAND (60A: Q: "Should you call that stopover between Liverpool and Belfast a peninsula?" A: "___")
Word of the Day: Teddy RUXPIN (37D: Fad teddy bear name of the 1980s) —
Teddy Ruxpin is an animatronic children's toy in the form of a talking bear. The bear's mouth and eyes moved while "reading" stories that were played on an audio tape cassette deck built into its back. It was created by Ken Forsse with later assistance by Larry Larsen and John Davies, and the first version of the toy was designed by the firm RKS Design. Later versions would use a digital cartridge in place of a cassette. At the peak of his popularity, Teddy Ruxpin became the best-selling toy of 1985 and 1986, and the 2006 version was awarded the 2006 Animated Interactive Plush Toy of the Year by Creative Child Magazine. A cartoon based on the characters debuted in 1986.
In 2018, it was announced that Alchemy and The Jim Henson Company will make a new Teddy Ruxpin TV series. The series will be animated in a digital puppetry form and will be aimed at preschoolers. (wikipedia) (emph mine what the hell???)
• • •
Q: "Did Courtney win her legal battle with her record label? A: "___" (NO, LOVE LOST!)
Q: "Should we play rap music for the male members of this retirement community?" A: "___" (NO, COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN!)
Q: "Wait ... is Julia in the car?!" A: "___" (NO, CHILD LEFT BEHIND!)
Etc.
I can't say that the theme was terribly enjoyable. The clues were contrived in a way that I didn't find funny. Essays don't directly evoke "reason" to me, there's no reason a snack bar should be good at burgers *or* shakes but not both, and who in the world would ask the question, "Is the *ISLE* of Man a peninsula?" The potential for humor is there, I guess, but with just three themers chosen (apparently) for their ability to fit in the grid neatly, there just wasn't enough zip or oomph or whatever it is that makes the crossword fun. After I pieced together the first themer, the others got increasingly easier, to the point where I wrote in NO MAN IS AN ISLAND with just the final handful of letters in place. Still, despite the easy-to-uncover theme, my time was not fast. This is largely because I literally (i.e. figuratively) fell down right out of the gate. 1A: Sounds of surrender (SIGHS) meant nothing to me (Me: "UNCLE...S?"), and then I dumbly wrote in ISIAH (?) at 14A: A patriarch of the Israelites (ISAAC) and then really truly screwed things up when I imagined 20A: Meet stick (BATON) might be a KABOB—I swear to you that I actually wrote this in, and yes, I see now that the clue does not say [Meat stick], thanks for pointing that out. So ... by my calculations, I basically gave myself a self-inflicted 1-minute time wound. Everything after that went much easier.
I did feel like I was flailing a lot, even if I was making steady progress. Pictionary rules? No idea, so NOUN was all from crosses. Hesitated on ALP because I figured the answer would be French, i.e. ALPE, which didn't fit (22D: Tour de France high point). No idea cars' names used to be on HUBCAPs. Hard to see both SKIN (35D: Exterior) andRUB (43D: Steak coating). Really truly sincerely right up until I solved this puzzle thought that the bear was called Teddy RUX*B*IN, ugh. REMORA is a word I barely know. How in the world would I know what night "77 Sunset Strip" was on (!??!?!)? And I put in LESS for SANS (67A: Lacking). Would've been nice to have some flashier fill given how scant the theme is, but the grid certainly isn't bad as is. It's OK. Just OK. If you enjoy the humor of the theme here, then it was probably enough. I would've liked more humor, and somewhat zingier fill. [SIGHS]
The Chronicle of Higher Education just published a profile of yours truly, with lots good background on the blog and on the state of Crossworddom in general. Give it a read. Thanks.
Relative difficulty: 16:19 (Note: This week, I'm going to share my times, instead of rating the puzzles, and you can infer from there)
THEME: "Movie 'M*A*S*H' 'Up'" — Two one-word movie titles are stuck together to make a wacky plot description of a third movie.
Word of the Day: GESTALT (27A: The forest, as opposed to the trees) —
Gestalt psychology or gestaltism (/ɡəˈʃtɑːlt, -ˈʃtɔːlt, -ˈstɑːlt, -ˈstɔːlt/; from German: Gestalt[ɡəˈʃtalt] "shape, form") is a philosophy of mind of the Berlin School of experimental psychology.
Gestalt psychology is an attempt to understand the laws behind the
ability to acquire and maintain meaningful perceptions in an apparently
chaotic world. The central principle of gestalt psychology is that the
mind forms a global whole with self-organizing tendencies. (Wikipedia)
• • •
Rex is away on a well-deserved vacation; I (Laura) will be here through next Saturday. Think of me as Rex's MALEFICENT PERSONA or GHOST AVATAR or CLUELESS SHARKNADO.
I enjoyed this very much, and even though I solved it on my phone during the set break at a concert (Guster with the Vermont Symphony Orchestra; they were awesome!), it flowed pretty quickly, because a) movie names/trivia are my thing; b) I very much like (and like to make) theme-types where you take a category and stick the names of things in that category together to make new, funny things. My primary beef with this set is that the theme entries could apply to many other movies; it's almost arbitrary which movies the constructor or editor(s) decided to clue for each M*A*S*H (1970) Up (2009). Like ... okay, SAW NEIGHBORS is a pretty succinct plot summary for Rear Window, I'll grant you that, but how many movies have a NOTORIOUS PSYCHO in them? Many movies. At the very least, all the Fridays the 13th. (Also, plenty of Hitchcock in this grid, not that I'm complaining). And GIANT SPLASH could summarize pretty much any movie in which something unpleasant happens to a cruise ship. Does a tornado (subject of the 1996 film Twister) really have SIDEWAYS GRAVITY? Because that would be cool (in the sense of interesting; not that I'd want to experience it personally).
2008 + 2015 + 1944 + 1996 = July 22-28, 2018
Fill-wise, not much gave me trouble, though the NE was the last to fall; somehow I wanted [34A: Best in mental competition]: OUTWIT to be an adjective (i.e. ___EST rather than a verb). Funny story about [106A: Frederick Forsyth's "The ___ File"]: ODESSA. I tried to put IPCRESS here -- though The Ipcress File is a spy novel by Len Deighton published ten years earlier; many spy novels are entitled The Something File, or The Whatever Conundrum, or The [insert European city here] Connection. The spy novel is a genre I have tried repeatedly and failed to get into; some years ago I was reading Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (John LeCarre, 1974). I complained to a friend that even though I could absorb fantasy sagas that ran to thousands of pages and took up entire endcap displays at Borders, and remember who all the different dynasties were, and which alien lifeform was feuding with which magic school fraternity, I tried to read one spy novel and got utterly confused trying to remember who all the characters were and whether they were the mole. "So you're saying," responded my friend, "That you'd've liked that book better had it been titled Hobbit Wookiee Direwolf Borg?" Yes. Yes, I would.
Bullets:
[1A: Festival of Colors celebrant]: HINDU — The Festival of Colors, or Holi, happens every spring (in 2018 it was on March 1 & 2) and celebrates not only the return of spring, but the repair of broken relationships.
[17D: Silents star whose name is an anagram of 112-Down]: Pola NEGRI began appearing in films in Berlin in the 1920s; she moved to Hollywood and specialized in femme fatale roles. She returned to Germany in the 1930s and starred in a few sound films, and was rumored to be a favorite of a certain dictator. She came back to Hollywood as the Nazis rose to power and had a few cameos, but mostly retired from film after the 1940s.
[45D: Without a contract]: ON SPEC
— Most crossword puzzles are submitted to editors ON SPEC. There are
probably fewer than ten constructors who work full-time, on contract,
only making puzzles (and not, say, also as editors of other folks'
puzzles).
Thanks folks! I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your server.
THEME: Modern-day remakes — famous 20th-century film titles with updated (i.e. "remade," i.e. 21st-century) title elements, and then a revealer that is also "remade": GMO POPCORN (?!) (60A: ... and something to eat while watching the remakes)
Theme answers:
UBER DRIVER (18A: Modern-day remake of a Robert DeNiro film?)
THE PAYPAL DICK (28A: Modern-day remake of a W.C. Fields film?)
HOLIDAY AIRBNB (Modern-day remake of a Bing Crosby film?)
Word of the Day: "The Bank Dick" (See 28A) —
The Bank Dick (released as The Bank Detective in the United Kingdom) is a 1940 comedy film. Set in Lompoc, California, W. C. Fields plays a character named Egbert Sousé who trips a bank robber and ends up a security guard as a result. The character is a drunk who must repeatedly remind people in exasperation that his name is pronounced "Sousé – accent grave [sic] over the 'e'!", because people keep calling him "Souse" (slang for drunkard). In addition to bank and family scenes, it features Fields pretending to be a film director and ends in a chaotic car chase. The Bank Dick is considered a classic of his work, incorporating his usual persona as a drunken henpecked husband with a shrewish wife, disapproving mother-in-law, and savage children. // The film was written by Fields, using the alias Mahatma Kane Jeeves (derived from the Broadway drawing-room comedy cliche, "My hat, my cane, Jeeves!"), and directed by Edward F. Cline. Shemp Howard, one of the Three Stooges, plays a bartender. // In 1992, The Bank Dick was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant". (wikipedia)
• • •
This had highs, lows, and creamy middle—just like a good, or at least entertaining—film, I guess. From the jump it was hard, because of the Funny. Not surprising to see an abundance of wacky, quirky, "?"-type clues when the co-constructor is a comedian, but (for me) they drove the difficulty level up. Even the simple (and comedian-related) 1D: Give it up, so to speak (CLAP) had me falling on my face, as I had the "C" and instantly guessed CEDE. Had no idea what was going on with DANNO until the last cross (65A: Guy with a lot of bookings?). Still have no idea what 42D: Film lovers may run in it? means (SLO-MO!?!? Maybe if you specifically love "Chariots of Fire," I guess, but ...?). Had trouble seeing through tricky vagueness of 42A: Completely busted (SHOT). Clue on BODYSCAN also too general for me to understand it for a while (39D: T.S.A. screening). I guess it's funny to end with GMO POPCORN (takes "remake" to a different level), but GMO doesn't really replace anything in a familiar phrase (i.e. it doesn't fit the theme pattern), so it felt cheap / off / wrong. Please don't tell me GMO replaces "fresh" or "hot" because GMO POPCORN (?) (whatever that is) can be both. Another wonky thing about the theme: UBER DRIVER is a very real thing, where the others are ridiculous not-real things (and therefore, in this context, Much better—go wacky or go home). How many sub Gen-X people have even heard of "The Bank Dick"!?!? I am a TCM addict, so I managed to suss it out OK, but I can see that answer giving solvers a ton of trouble, just because that is by far the least familiar film of the bunch ("Holiday Inn," also, if you're not a big old movie buff, not exactly common knowledge (anymore)).
The worst thing for me about this puzzle was I fell into a terrible trap that I'm sure hardly anyone else fell in, but I know ... I pray ... that at least one other solver out there, somewhere, had this exact, insane experience: I wrote in RUBON for 15A: Apply, as lotion (RUB IN)—since That Is The Phrase I Would Use—and then ended up with FORE at the beginning of what looked very very very much like a golf clue (8D: What may have a dog leg to the left or right?). So I never, ever (ever) questioned the FORE part. Had *&%^ing FOREPLAY in there at one point, and ended up with FOREPLUG. Since "fire hydrant" is The Phrase That I Would Use, the idea that FOREPLUG was an obvious misspelling of FIREPLUG ... never occurred to me. I do not play golf, so I just assumed FOREPLUG was some dumb golf term I didn't know. The End. Too bad, because the FIREPLUG clue is pretty cute. And if the "I" cross had been clear *or* the wacky "?" clue hadn't contained a golf term ("dog leg"), I would've been able (ABEL!) to get an appreciate it. But instead I fell into a pretty hilarious hole and never got out. Game over. You have an error. So sorry. Better luck next time.
["Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn!"]
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
P.S. that clue on OILY is four-star (45D: Kind of boid that catches the woim?)
Hi, it's Annabel!! As Rex informed you, last week I was yelling IM HIT! because I was sick - there's something going around at school. :( But I guess the battlefieldfield medic of life got to me, because your FAVE is refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to do an Annabel Monday!!!!! Constructor: PATRICK MERRELL
Relative difficulty: EASY
THEME: A MONSTROUS NAME — Theme answers were animals that started with a fairytale monster. Each clue described the animal as having "a monstrous name."
Theme answers:
VAMPIRE BAT (17A:Airborne animal with a monstrous name)
DRAGONFLY (27A: Airborne animal with a monstrous name)
DEVIL FISH (43A: Undersea animal with a monstrous name)
GIANT SQUID (64A: Undersea animal with a monstrous name)
Word of the Day: DEVIL FISH (43A: Undersea animal with a monstrous name) —
The devil fish or giant devil ray (Mobula mobular) is an endangered species of eagle ray in the family Myliobatidae. It is currently listed as endangered, mostly due to bycatch mortality in unrelated fisheries.
Devil rays feed on planktonic crustaceans and small schooling fish, which are trapped using the modified gill covers (branchial plates) responsible for its "devil-like" silhouette. The species is ovoviviparous: the young hatch from their eggs inside the mother's body and emerge later when they are more fully grown. Only a single live young which is called a pup is born at a time.[1]
(Wikipedia)
• • •
OoOoOoOoOoOoOooo, what a good puzzle for the second week of the spookiest month of the year! I dunno if I'd count "giant" as a monster, but I guess that's subjective. Did anyone else have LEVIATHAN for 43A? I guess I was thinking of other kinds of monsters. I wonder what ARIEL would think of a GIANT SQUID...
Honestly this puzzle is probably my favorite so far! I dunno why, it was just something about the way the clues were written. LAP is "a spot for a cat," and a LOBE can be on a brain or an ear. Also, I don't know how old Patrick Merrell is, but there seemed to be A LOT OF Millenial influence in the puzzle! Not only were there a couple Internet shout-outs, but I always say SAME rather than "ditto," and occasionally I want to give someone a rude "AHEM?"(I don't, though, because I am a very polite young lady.) Oh, also, ABATE and AGATE, with their wildly different pronunciations.
My one real complaint was that I tried HIGH NOON for NOONDAY about a million times despite knowing full well that it didn't even fit. Still, this puzzle was really well put together - if it ain't BAROQUE, don't fix it!
Bullets:
OUTED (68A: No longer in the closet, and not by choice) — Handled well, in my opinion, especially since it's pretty topical with tomorrow being National Coming Out Day. Unwanted outing is a pretty serious issue; it can put people in danger. Props to Patrick Merrell for bringing it up!
ANYONE (20A: Who knows the answer?) — Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?
You know! For kids!
STINE (5A: Children's writer R.L. ______) — Speaking of the spookiest month of the year....This really brings back memories. R.L. Stine is the author of the Goosebumps series, a series of horror books for kids that scared the heck out of me for years as a child. They were really good, though, check out a dramatic reading or something. And check out that "Night of the Living Dummy" cover, otherwise known as "the worst Goosebumps book ever because sentient ventriloquist dummies are terrifying." I'm probably not going to sleep well tonight.
AFLAC (32D: Insurer with a duck in its commercial) — AAAFLAAAAC!!!
Signed, Annabel Thompson, tired because midterms are coming up.
Oh, also...SHOUTOUT TO MY KID SISTER MAYA ON HER B-DAY!!! She's turning eleven already, which means she's only seven years away from getting her full-ride scholarship to art school. Seriously, the kid can draw. Happy birthday Maya!!!!
She's probably playing Minecraft. She's really good at making castles and stuff.
THEME:"Political Promises" — Clues are common promises that politicians make on the campaign trail. Answers are funny / ironic / undercutting:
Theme answers:
23A: "Unemployment will be a thing of the past! ("... FOR ME IF I'M ELECTED!")
35A: "No new taxes!" ("JUST MORE OF THE OLD ONES")
54A: "I will maintain a strong defense!" ("WHEN OPPONENTS ATTACK ME")
77A: "Deficit spending must stop!" ("DONATE TO MY CAMPAIGN NOW")
93A: "I'll slow this country's spread of drugs!" ("EXPECT CUTS IN MEDICARE")
113A: "Education will be my top priority!" ("I'VE GOT A LOT TO LEARN")
Highlights:
NEOPHYTES (79D: Novices)
"WHO, YOU?" (63D: Question of surprise to a volunteer)
"I'M IT!" (33A: "You're looking at the whole department")
Trouble fill:
IHS (113D: Monogram on Christian crosses)
SAE (56D: Coll. fraternity)
Word of the Day: I.H.S. (113D: Monogram on Christian crosses) —
A Christogram is a monogram or combination of letters that forms an abbreviation for the name of JesusChrist, traditionally used as a Christian symbol. As in the case of Chrismon, the term Christogram comes from the Latin phrase "Christi Monogramma", meaning "monogram of Christ". // Different types of Christograms are associated with the various traditions of Christianity, e.g. the IHS monogram referring to the Holy Name of Jesus or ΙϹΧϹ referring to Christ. [...] In the Latin-speaking Christianity of medieval Western Europe (and so among Catholics and many Protestants today), the most common Christogram became "IHS" or "IHC", denoting the first three letters of the Greek name of Jesus, IHΣΟΥΣ, iota-eta-sigma, or ΙΗΣ. (wikipedia)
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SPECIAL MESSAGE for syndicated solversfor the week of January 17-January 24, 2016
Hello, syndicated (i.e. 1-to-5-week-behind) solvers! Somehow, it is January again, which means it's time for my once-a-year pitch for financial contributions to the blog. The idea is very simple: if you read the blog regularly (or even semi-regularly), please consider what it's worth to you on an annual basis and give accordingly. In making this pitch, I'm pledging that the blog will continue to be here for you to read / enjoy / grimace at for at least another calendar year. This year is special, as it will mark the 10th anniversary of Rex Parker Does the NYT Crossword Puzzle, and despite my not-infrequent grumblings about less-than-stellar puzzles, I've actually never been so excited to be thinking and writing about crosswords. I have no way of knowing what's coming from the NYT, but the broader world of crosswords looks very bright, and that is sustaining. Whatever happens, this blog will remain an outpost of the Old Internet: no ads, no corporate sponsorship, no whistles and bells. Just the singular, personal voice of someone talking passionately about a topic he loves. As I have said in years past, I know that some people are opposed to paying for what they can get for free, and still others really don't have money to spare. Both kinds of people are welcome to continue reading my blog, with my compliments. It will always be free. I have no interest in cordoning it off, nor do I have any interest in taking advertising. I value my independence too much. Anyway, if you are so moved, there is a Paypal button in the sidebar, and a mailing address here:
Rex Parker
℅ Michael Sharp
54 Matthews St
Binghamton NY 13905
And here: I'll stick a PayPal button in here for the mobile users.
There. Hope that helps.
For people who send me actual, honest-to-god (i.e. "snail") mail (I love snail mail!), this year my thank-you cards are "Sibley Backyard Birding Postcards"—each card a different watercolor illustration by ornithologist David Sibley. You could get a Black PHOEBE. A California TOWHEE. Or maybe even a picture of some fabled SCARLET TANAGERS (15). Or give via PayPal and get a thank-you email. That's cool too. 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 say NO CARD. As I say in every thank-you card (and email), I'm so grateful for your readership and support. So thanks, not A TAD, but A TON (partial fill! coming in useful!). Now on to the puzzle …
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A cute puzzle for the upcoming (and current, and eternal) political season—one we can all get behind. Throw the bums out, am I right? Let's just not say who, exactly, we think the "bums" are, and we'll all get along swimmingly. I enjoyed the lighthearted cynicism of this theme, and because I had to really work for the front end of the first themer, the "FOR ME" part of "FOR ME, IF I AM ELECTED" came as a sudden, genuine surprise and made me legit-LOL. All the themers are at least marginally funny, and I really like the self-aware closer: "I'VE GOT A LOT TO LEARN." Apt in an age when ignorance seems to be a virtue. Although maybe not apt, as an actual politician would likely not be inclined to acknowledge, let alone confront, their own ignorance. (I used singular "their" there in honor of the 2015 Word of the Year (as determined by the American Dialect Society): the singular "they").
Back to the puzzle—the theme has just six answers, but they're all monsters (i.e. 20+ letters in length), so I don't mind that there aren't more of them. I do wish there were more flashy, interesting, somewhat longer non-theme fill. Lots and lots and lots of the short stuff. It's actually surprising the fill isn't worse, given how much 3-4-letter stuff there is. I only really choked on two answers: SAE (56D: Coll. fraternity) and IHS(113D: Monogram on Christian crosses). In both cases, I had no idea what the letters stood for. With SAE, I can at least guess (Sigma Alpha Epsilon? ... yes, that is correct). With IHS, wow, no. No no. I thought the only cross inscription I had to know was INRI. I've been doing these things How long and never seen IHS??? I should admit that I finished with an error there, one that I tracked down only after minutes of searching. In my defense, MEAT SENSOR is not completely inaccurate. Plus, it has the added virtue of being semi-hilarious.
Are you wondering who John ST. AMOS is? I hope so, because that amuses me. It's just John STAMOS, of "Full House" fame. I've never heard of Fox's "Grandfathered," so I guess I'm not as pop culturally hip as I'd imagined (if a show called "Grandfathered" can be said to be "hip," which seems unlikely). Most of the rest of the grid was pretty familiar. I hesitated over the spelling of Billy ELLIOT (one L two Ts? ... two Ls one T ... ?). I had ENBALM until the impossible SNU forced the change at 44A: Dallas sch. (SMU). Had UNTAME for 96D: Wild (INSANE). Then I had UNSAFE (?). Right next door, I had SPURNS for 95D: Treats vengefully (SPITES). So I guess that whole MEAT SENSOR area was rough for me. This puzzle deserves some kind of "Bad Fill Redemption" medal for cluing "I'M IT" in plausible, believable, snappy way (33A: "You're looking at the whole department"), thus rescuing it from the "Improbable things one might say while playing tag" and "Abbr." categories.
THEME:Fun with Roman numerals — circled squares contain Roman numerals, which, in the Across theme answers, stand in for the letters in their English equivalent (e.g. I = "ONE"). In the Downs, the letters in the Roman numerals cease to be Roman numerals and function simply as letters:
Theme answers:
RUNNING [ON E]MPTY (20A: Almost out of energy)
DA[TE N]IGHT (32A: Time to get a babysitter, maybe)
This strikes me as quite clever. The theme isn't tough to uncover, and once uncovered, it all goes very quickly. Also, at 78 words, this grid is highly segmented and thus doesn't have many interesting longer answers outside of the themers. But the theme is solid and the chosen theme answers are varied and creative enough to keep things interesting. I enjoyed figuring out what Roman numerals went where, and why. Biggest wow factor was on CB[S EVEN]ING NEWS. I somehow wasn't looking for VII, and that is a truly inventive way to hide it. On the fill front, I am not at all a fan of TOX (22D: Food safety subj.). Is that short of tox ... ins? icity? It's horrid. I honestly considered TAX. And I gave a little side-eye to the creaky ERATO / ET ALIA crossing (though ET ALIA got a very nice clue—30D: String substitute?). But I don't have very many other complaints. It was too easy; that's the only serious complaint I have. Even the Scrabble-f*%&ing in the NE didn't bother me. I mean, if you're gonna do it, I say go All In. Four "Z"s in a 3x3 section!? Sure. Go on. Go ahead. And if you somehow don't know who AZIZ Ansari is (16A: ___ Ansari of "Parks and Recreation"), please watch the series "Master of None" (10 episodes, on Netflix) right now. Best scripted show I've seen since "Transparent." Oh, also, there's a new episode of "Transparent" available (Season 2, Episode 1) right now on Amazon Prime. Not sure why I'm telling you all this ... just spreading the Gospel of Good TV, I guess. (Don't get me started on the Great British Baking Show, though, because I am a convert and like all converts I am annoyingly zealous)
Bullets:
24A: Group Theatre playwright of the 1930s (ODETS) — I started with YEATS. Something about "playwright" and spelling of "theatre" and the fact that my dear friend Catherine is a Yeats scholar—not to mention the five-letter length of the answer—made me do it. YEATS died in 1939, so my answer is chronologically plausible, if no other kind of plausible.
28A: Works of Carl Maria von Weber (OPERAS) — I get this dude confused with sociologist Max Weber. It's probably the whole last name thing.
63A: Medium for Biggie Smalls (RADIO) — this is a very weird clue. Presumably RADIO is a Medium for virtually any singer in the history of singers. Does Biggie have a song about RADIO? Why Biggie? I mean, I'm happy to see his name, but the clue feels weirdly arbitrary. LL Cool J makes more sense. Or Elvis Costello. Or R.E.M. Or Talking Heads. Etc. [nevermind: apparently there's a big/medium/small joke going on here ... ANYway...]
66A: "That's not for me" ("I PASS") — I went with "I'M OUT!"
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!")
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