NYT 3:25
CS 3:11
LAT 2:58
NYS untimed (drat!)
What? It's Tuesday in the morning? Wait. It's the weekend. How is this happening?
The New York Times crossword is by Adam Perl, who included his first and last names as the first and last Across answers. Sorry, but I don't think [1995 Physics Nobelist Martin L.] PERL is quite well-known enough for a Tuesday puzzle—especially when one letter crosses a name from a lesser Disney production. [Disney's "___ and the Detectives"] is completed by EMIL. Did somebody say "Detectives"? Here's Elvis Costello performing "Watching the Detectives" back in 1977. (Sounds much the same in this year's concert tour, but Elvis has added three decades' worth of age and weight and whiskers since then.) Maybe I would have been more favorably disposed to the self-name-dropping in the grid, but I had been taken aback by the clue for BRAT: [Kid you might feel like smacking]. That is not gonna give the warm fuzzies to any solver who's experienced or witnessed child abuse, now, is it? As for the theme, there are three 15s that are 17-letter phrases minus an ID, tied together by NO ID: [Reason to be barred from a bar...or the theme of this puzzle]. SCENE OF AN ACCENT (accident) is [E.S.L. class, perhaps]. CONTINENTAL DIVE (divide) is [Seedy hangout across the Atlantic?] Ooh, speaking of continental—here's a video of Christopher Walken on SNL as "The Continental." The third theme entry's RAP RESPONSE TEAM (rapid), or [Hip-hop critics?].
Updated:
Mike Torch's New York Sun puzzle, "Plastic Surgery Gone Bad," has some juicy "aha!" moments in the theme. Now, most people visiting plastic surgeons and hoping to look like celebrities aren't focusing on their lower limbs, but that awkward concept gives the best "aha": [What the plastic surgeon created after I asked to look like a "Star Wars" actress?] are PORTMAN TOES—Natalie Portman from the newer batch of Star Wars installments crossed with portmanteau. Johnny CASH EARS (cashiers), Anais NIN KNEES (ninnies), and Billy CRYSTAL EYES (crystallize) round out this multi-layered pun theme. Lots of little hits of geography in the fill here—OSAKA, SYRIA, OTOE County, OMAN crossing SAMOA, SEDONA. [Torture ___ (genre of the "Saw" films)] for PORN (the term's a good way to point out the unseemliness of this gruesome horror genre). Good fill: EAT CROW, SNOW JOB split into two pieces, END ZONE, CAJUN, ZYGOTE.
Today's LA Times crossword may be Susan Miskimins' debut as a published constructor. The four longest entries are starred and their last parts can follow the word FINGER (50-Down):
That last one is, I think, the weakest member of the theme, since a more literal thumbnail is actually a fingernail, whereas the other theme entries aren't finger-related. Highlights in the fill are the quartet of 8-letter entries, including Ol' BLUE EYES (Sinatra), a weather FORECAST (Chicago's forecast today: Too %@$#* cold! In the 40s!), and a DEMOCRAT ([Jackson was the first to become president]). CHEF is clued as [Bobby Flay, for one]; it behooves me to mention that Deb Amlen has anagrammed that to "Flabby Boy."
Randolph Ross's (apologies for earlier having Randall Hartman's name in there) CrosSynergy puzzle, "Dirty Doings," contains a bunch of dirty puns—about literal dirt. [Messy, gooey dessert?] is KEY SLIME PIE (ewww). [Admonition to chimney sweeps about not getting anyone else dirty?] is SOOT YOURSELVES (I kinda like this one). [Oily buildup that's been around a long time?] is ANCIENT GREASE (not to be confused with retirement grease). GRIME DOESN'T PAY is [Judge's advice about cleaning up?], though the aforementioned "retirement grease" concept belies this theme entry. GUNK SCIENCE, or [Subject in which sludge is studied?], plays on "junk science." Look, there's an ORANGE in the fill! I am, of course, an excellent [Vitamin C source]—no scurvy here.
May 26, 2008
Tuesday, 5/27
January 21, 2008
Tuesday, 1/22
Onion 5:05
Tausig 4:50
NYS 3:49
CS 2:59
NYT 2:55
LAT 2:52
Adam Perl's New York Times puzzle dusts off the Superman story, gathering together three key staff members from the DAILY PLANET: star reporters Lois LANE CHANGES ([They require signals]) and Clark KENT STATE, and their editor, Perry WHITE LIES. (Is this a commentary on journalistic ethics?) In the version of the story floating in my head, ELIZABETH I and ADAM AND EVE all work in the advertising department, Eve's getting a promotion to a marketing job, and Steve the intern will take over as Adam's partner. Aaaanyway...it's an inventive theme, and I liked a lot of the fill—a HOT DOG and CREPES, TULANE and a HORNET, The WIZ and SCHLEP. Favorite clues: [Number of operas composed by Beethoven] for ONE (Fidelio); [Liechtenstein's language] for GERMAN; [Peach pit] for STONE (because The Peach Pit was the name of the diner on Beverly Hills, 90210, and the proprietor was played by an actor with the implausible name of Joe E. Tata); [After the buzzer] for LATE; and ["Oh, goody!"] for HOT DOG.
James Sajdak's New York Sun crossword is called "What the H?" but it's not about hell or heck. Instead, the theme entries sound like my son a year ago, when he had trouble pronouncing the th sounds, which tended to come out as t or d sounds. In this puzzle, phrases starting with TH are changed to the T sound, with the spelling changing as needed to make a real word. For example, the Suzanne Somers Thighmaster turns into a TIE MASTER ([Haberdasher?]), theme music becomes TEAM MUSIC, and thrill and three become TRILL and TREE. (Speaking of the Thighmaster, I never remember what that muscle is called, the one you'd use to close the Thighmaster, so I just call it my Suzanne Somers.) I sure don't recall seeing the Russian city SMOLENSK before, and it's wedged in besides MINEOLA, New York (which I have heard of, fortunately). Favorite fill: ON DVD, OEUF, and DR. JOHN packed in together; SULLIED; YUMMY— Dr. John sullied the yummy oeuf: See it on DVD!
Updated:
Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader crossword, "Running Jokes," has sort of tortured electoral puns for a theme. The Caucasus Mountains become CAUCUS MOUNTAINS ([Piles of ballots?], prime number (I think) becomes a PRIMARY NUMBER, Champagne toast turns into CAMPAIGN TOAST, and bait and tackle becomes DEBATE AND TACKLE. The theme? Meh. Not for me. Favorite clues: [Lacking baggage, say] for DATEABLE; [B, be, and bee, e.g.] for HOMONYMS. Most satisfying crossing: THWACK meets KRUMP.
Ben's e-mail accompanying that puzzle and his Onion A.V. Club crossword warn "don't solve this week's AV Club with your dear old Aunt Ethel." I'll get to why in a moment. (DO NOT GOOGLE ALL OF THE THEME ENTRIES.) First, the theme is the TV WRITERS' STRIKE (though they're also movie writers, not just TV) and the things people do for entertainment while their TV shows are out of commission. One options is LOLCATS, which I love; I Can Has Cheezburger? is one of the main centers of LOLcats fun. I hadn't heard of FANTASY CONGRESS, the political version of fantasy football leagues. Looks cool. Alas, the theme also gives plenty of space to WATCHING PEOPLE / REACT TO / TWO GIRLS ONE CUP. If you haven't heard of that (and I hope you haven't), I recently learned that it's an online porn video involving two women and plenty of coprophagia-related action. Is the current generation of young people picking up the message that this sort of degradation of women is entertaining, or completely suitable for joking about? What does it say about our society that this is a viral video that millions of people have seen this, and that (Wikipedia tells me) there are plenty of videos of people reacting to the video? (Note: None of these links go to videos.)
Stepping off my soapbox, I turn to the CrosSynergy puzzle, Paula Gamache's "Secret Service." The theme is rather shy—an ACE, or a tennis serve (service), is embedded within each theme entry. Plenty of long fill to admire in this one. There's a POLITICO and LEONARDO da Vinci, a SOMERSAULT and the ROSETTA Stone, and some FIBEROPTIC cable.
Mike Peluso's LA Times crossword plays chess with five sort-of-famous people. I know IRENE CASTLE only from crosswords, and ELVIN BISHOP's name, hmm, I probably picked that up from Alan Arbesfeld's 1/12/05 NYT crossword. (The Arbesfeld puzzle had four of the same people. but swapped in Stephen for LARRY KING.) The five people's last names are chess pieces, and until there are famous people named Pawn, this is about how such a theme will go. Favorite entries: SAO TOME getting both of its words in the grid (instead of one for a fill-in-the-blank clue); OIL-RICH nations; TROT OUT; and an employee's ID BADGE, a much zippier entry than the IDTAG that's been popping up fairly often.
December 31, 2007
Tuesday, 1/1
CS 3:07
LAT 3:06
NYT 2:51
Tausig tba
Onion tba
Happy New Year! At this writing, there are two hours to go before 2008 unfurls its clumsy legs and takes its first baby steps, toddling roughshod over that fusty old 2007. At Casa Crossword Fiend, we're welcoming the new year by watching DVRed episodes of Dirty Jobs (just watched #56, in which Mike Rowe sweats from terror when handling rattlesnakes and alligators) and sipping Prosecco. I thought I'd had plenty of Prosecco for the evening, but then that Wiki link mentioned the Bellini, so my husband fetched the blender to puree some peaches. Ah, Bellinis and blogging.
The New York Sun is on vacation for the holiday (both Monday and Tuesday), but Friday brings us a special treat—a vowelless crossword by Frnk Lng (better known as Frank Longo). It's the sort of meaty challenge that I find at least 50% harder than the toughest themeless crosswords.
The Tuesday New York Times puzzle by Adam Perl has a FOUR-H Club theme. Now, the club itself has PDF guidelines for emblem and name usage that specify a numeral 4, hyphen, and capital H. That means the "FOUR-H" in the grid isn't kosher. (Look out, Will Shortz—the agriculturally inclined youth of America may come after you.) The theme entries are phrases that begin with the four H words—HEAD, HEART, HANDS, and HEALTH. Those four phrases are 15 letters apiece, so there's a total of 65 theme squares; pretty beefy for a Tuesday puzzle. Before I go, allow me to also grumble about TOWNE being clued as [Colonial settlement]; what, Robert Towne, the writer of Chinatown, isn't famous enough? And now, I go.
Updated:
Ray Hamel's CrosSynergy puzzle is called "Nu Beginnings." Why? Because NU is inserted at the beginning of four phrases (de facto, clear title, thatch palm, T.S. Eliot) to make new opening words, and the resulting phrases are clued accordingly. One factual correction: the [Owner of the highest building in Chicago] has not been SEARS for almost two decades. Sears still has naming rights, but doesn't own the Sears Tower. (Also, the Sears Tower will be dwarfed in a few years by the Chicago Spire, which will become North America's tallest edifice.)
The theme entries in Robert Doll's LA Times puzzle include TRASH TALK, WASTE ENERGY, PICK OF THE LITTER, and CHINESE JUNK—tied together by the DIRTY MIND you need to spot the theme. The first two theme entries start with the detritus, while the second pair end with it. Good puzzle here.
December 22, 2007
Sunday, 12/23
LAT 8:29
BG 7:50
NYT 7:27
PI 7:24
WaPo 6:44
CS 5:28
Adam Perl's Santa-themed New York Times crossword, "Yule Outsourcing," has a ripped-from-the-headlines feel to it, with the four-line verse ending EVERY TOY IS MADE IN CHINA (the reason Santa has been lounging in his recliner). Yes, complete with lead paint or toxic plastic compounds. (FYI, here's a Vermont alternative to made-in-China toys. They even make a Soma cube, which is hard to come by. Wish I'd have found that early enough to order it as a Christmas present...for myself.) The explicit theme takes up just four 21-square rows, but there's Yuletide cluing strewn throughout the puzzle in the form of about 15 short answers. My favorite clues: [Way overdue to take off?] for OBESE; ["What to do? What to do?" feeling] for PANIC; [Theodemocratic state] for IRAN; [Of fast times?] for LENTEN; [Discriminating sort, in a way] for AGEIST; and [Out-elbowed?] for AKIMBO. Speaking of elbows, there's also [Elbows] for POKES, [Joint part] for TENON, and [Joint] for REEFER—so not all the joint-related action here is anatomical. Did you notice that BIOTA was followed by IOTAS? The former crosses GUITEAU, [Garfield's assassin] and nobody I've heard of.
Henry Hook's Across Lite edition of the Boston Globe puzzle, "Family Affair," relates not to the old TV series of that name but rather, to The Simpsons. The theme clues are the members of the family, with the parents listed first and the three kids in order from eldest to youngest. [HOMER] is a FOUR-BAGGER / IN BASEBALL, or home run. [MARGE] is SYNONYM FOR OLEO. (Is this a common spoken abbreviation for margarine? I prefer butt to marge, personally.) [BART] refers to the SAN FRANCISCO RAIL LINES. [LISA] is simply an ANAGRAM FOR SAIL. And baby [MAGGIE] is the utterly tortured (but I like it) M PLUS TEXAS A&M ATHLETE, or M + AGGIE. That sly little ampersand also belongs to P&L, or profit-and-loss statement. This crossword's enhanced by the Scrabbly letters in fill like UP NEXT, EXTERIOR, STAX, and MIXED (implicating four separate X's), JAY LENO, ZULU, and the juicy little KUMQUAT. Highlights in the non-Scrabbly, non-theme fill: MARISA TOMEI and ROY ACUFF's full names, FEMBOT, GALILEO, and the TASMANIAN devil.
Frank Longo's Washington Post crossword, "Birthday Greetings," serves up cake to eight famous people who were BORN ON CHRISTMAS. Easy (but still good) cluing, and terrific fill. Favorite bits: JEROBOAM; AGE RANGE; DULLARD; REORG; ["Washington," in poetry] for DACTYL (a stressed syllable followed by two unstressed syllables—and Wikipedia points out that a 2006 NYT crossword pointed out that poetry is itself a dactyl); [Semi fluid] for GAS (did your mind's eye add -nal to that first word?); ["Bejabbers!"] for EGAD; [___ freak] for CONTROL; [They may have umbrellas] for MAI TAIS; [Press unit] for REP (as in bench press, chest press, leg press); KEY GRIP; LIKE MAD; [Significant one?] for OTHER; and ["No, No, No" singer] for ONO.
Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "Carol of the Bells," isn't as Christmassy as the title suggests. Instead, each theme entry contains the letter string DING or DONG within it. Ho-hum, you say? Well, there are 13 of these entries, and the one in the middle is awesome: BAKED-ON GREASE. I'll bet that puppy's never appeared in a crossword grid before, and it amuses me terribly in a crossword. In the kitchen, much less so. (Soaking does wonders, though.) As a little extra fillip, Merl clues PEALES as [Norman Vincent's family (and an apt answer in this puzzle)].
Updated:
Kathleen O'Brien's syndicated LA Times crossword also trods the Christmas-theme path in "Not a Good Sign," with a quote from SHIRLEY TEMPLE. I think I've read the quote before, but the punchline's still a good one.
It's Christmas a couple days early if you're a fan of Bob Klahn's cluing style—he constructed today's themeless CrosSynergy puzzle. The clues that were right up my alley (meaning I liked them, not necessarily that I understood what the answer was right away): [Ten-cent pic] means FDR, whose portrait is on the dime. [Third degree] is a DOCTORATE, literally and not idiomatically. [King of the old South] is more metaphoric—COTTON.
[Put your head down, try this, and you'll breathe easy] clues SNORKEL. The first and last time I went snorkeling was on my honeymoon, on Christmas day in 1991. I slathered on Bullfrog waterproof sunscreen and was fine, but my "I tan, I don't burn" husband got fried. His wedding band also slid off and sank down to a coral reef, so he did a little diving, too.
[Small fry] and [Future fry] are TAD and ROE, respectively. I do like the paired clues Klahn often concocts. [Wacky] appears twice, but not in adjacent spots, to clue INANE and LOCO, and [Wacky one] is a KOOK. [A, for one] clues SYNONYM, as "a clue" is synonymous with "one clue." Sort of a lateral-thinking clue. [Loose things not found in rings] is also sort of aslant—they're ENDS, as a ring has no ends.
I'm not crazy about bible clues, but [Two-person starter home?] is as good as a biblical EDEN clue gets.
I don't get why [Balance opener] is TRIAL. Oh—apparently trial balance is a bookkeeping term.
[Muse] is not Erato or one of her sisters here, but the verb: REMINISCE.
