BEQ 7:48
Onion 4:48
LAT 3:05
NYT 3:03
CS untimed
Allan Parrish's New York Times crossword
You know how it goes when you finish a puzzle without having any idea what unites the theme entries? Yeah, that was my story tonight. "Radial, dual, shower...pirate? No. Tire, exhaust—aha!—drain, flag. Synonyms!" The theme answers are all noun phrases that end with words that double as synonymous verbs:
• 17A. [Goodyear offering] is a RADIAL TIRE.
• 61A. [Blackbeard flew on] clues a PIRATE FLAG.
• 10D. [Feature of many muscle cars] is DUAL EXHAUST. Is it just me, or does the combo of RADIAL TIRE and DUAL EXHAUST bore you, too?
• 24D. The SHOWER DRAIN is [Where lost hair may accumulate]. Eww! Gross!
To purge that image, let us consider some other clues:
• 15A. Crosswordese alert! Old-school AMAH is an [Eastern domestic].
• 21A. The SUN is a [Weather map symbol] that does not get much use in the Midwest in November.
• 24A. SEMITE refers to an [Israeli or Palestinian] or, in fact, any Arab. Anti-Semitism is prejudice against Jews, not against Semites in general. I don't know why that is. See also 29D: ARAB, or [One with an "al-" in his name, often].
• 30A. [Pro- or con-] is a PREFIX. Were you thinking of debate sides?
• 54A. Mount EVEREST is the [Mountain previously named Peak XV]. Didn't know that.
• 13D. HOMEY is clued as [Warm and comfy], but the word always makes me think of Homey the Clown from In Living Color and his sock full of pennies. *Whap!*
• 25D. Maple TREE SAP is the [Syrup source]. Did you see the article in Tuesday's NYT about Chuck Schumer's goal of making New York State the world's leading producer of maple syrup? Hey, he may be a goofball, but I am in favor of anything that means more real maple syrup and maybe less of those maple-flavored corn syrup concoctions. (Edited to acknowledge that this answer, found in the center of the grid, is a fifth theme entry. Thanks, Alex!)
• 62D. ["M*A*S*H" extra]...uh-oh, is this going to be NURSE? Nope! It's a ROK, or Republic of Korea soldier.
Updated Wednesday morning
Donna S. Levin's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Swish!"—Janie's review
Late in April of '10 Broadway will welcome a revival of Promises, Promises a musicalization of the film The Apartment. Why do I bring this up? Because in the show, our hero learns that the object of his affection—a co-worker who is only politely aware of him—shares his affinity for basketball and he can barely contain himself when he makes this discovery. "She Likes Basketball" he sings with exuberance (and the "he" in the link is Jerry Orbach [father of constructor Tony] who garnered himself one of the show's two TONYS [Broadway honors] back in 1969).
Judging from today's puzzle theme, Donna likes basketball, too. Each of the four theme phrases contains a word that's part of the process of getting the ball from the players into the net. The base phrases are not related to the game, of course. That's the fun of it. What's nice, too, is that the point-making sequence is just right: dribble, pass, shoot and score. Regard:
• 20A. DRIBBLE GLASS [Classic gag gift]. Did you know this was invented by Søren Adam Sørensen a/k/a "Sam" Adams—who also gave us the joy buzzer? The words "laff riot" come to mind. Sorta...
• 28A. BOARDING PASS [Ticket to fly]. Not a literal ticket—although these days, with e-ticketing, I suppose it does double as a boarding pass sometimes. I tell ya, it's a new world out there.
• 43A. SHOOT THE MOON [Obtain the optimal result on a hand, in hearts]. That's the card game of hearts that Donna's referring to. This is the only example where the key word in the phrase is the same part of speech (a verb) as the basketball descriptor. And I can see where this was difficult to avoid. In BAMBOO SHOOT, for instance, shoot is a noun, but the phrase is one letter shy of its would-be puzzlemates, and unbalances the fill by having the basketball word at the end of the phrase. Far better is the solution we get in the puzzle with two phrases where it's the first word, two where it's the last. Such are the challenges that constructors are up against, however.
• 52A. EVEN THE SCORE [Get retribution].
I enjoyed solving this one not only for the theme fill, but because the cluing and non-theme fill made me think—and reflect. I recalled being in elementary school, in the library and having the school's librarian asking us third-graders if we knew what the oldest book in the world was. Because I knew only that it had been written in the century before the one we were living in and because I liked the high-spirited Jo March, I proffered Little Women... The patient librarian took all of our suggestions (I'm sure Aesop's Fables and Grimm's Fairy Tales were in there as well, though probably not anything by O'HENRY [Author known for his surprise endings]) and then let us down easy: THE BIBLE, which, it stands to reason is why it's also the [#1 best-selling book of all time].
How did you do with VENA CAVA [Cardiologist's concern]? I had to depend on the crosses to make this one happen and wasn't sure either whether [Tirana's country] was going to turn out to be ALBANIA (yes) or perhaps ALGERIA (not). I was familiar with the British "bangers and mash", so SAUSAGE for [Brit's banger] was not problematic.
If basketball isn't your thing, there's a lot in here for culture-vultures, too, including: author James AGEE, opera's SEVILLE-based barber, composer Gustav MAHLER, deco artist ERTÉ, choreographer AGNES de Mille. And have we seen John Paul STEVENS [Senior-most Justice of the Supreme Court] here at CS before? The Cruciverb database would say no. That was a nice change of pace.
Gareth Bain's Los Angeles Times crossword
(Post excerpted from my post at L.A. Crossword Confidential.)
I finished this puzzle with no idea what the theme was—I knew that 43D/EDSELS had something to do with it, but in Across Lite, long clues are truncated in the clue list and in teeny print above the puzzle so I hadn't read the complete clue: Named for a car model, group who sang the 1961 hit formed by the ends of 17-, 26-, 41- and 52-Across. Aha! The long Down answers, MACHINE GUN and ANGORA GOAT, are not involved in the theme. The puzzle seemed sort of weird, but when "RAMA LAMA DING DONG" popped out, I was delighted.
Theme answers:
• 17A: [360-degree artwork] (CYCLORAMA). This term is not at all familiar to me. The Wikipedia article is informative, and covers Bulgaria, the Netherlands, the U.S. Civil War, and...Disney's EPCOT Center.
• 26A: [Former resident of Lhasa's Potala Palace] (DALAI LAMA).
• 41A: [Wildly exciting, in slang] (RING-A-DING). This...is not the sort of slang I use.
• 52A: [Long-time Chinese leader] (MAO ZEDONG). The Mao Tse-tung spelling fits neither the space in the grid nor the theme's spelling requirements.
• 43D: [Named for a car model, group who sang the 1961 hit formed by the ends of 17-, 26-, 41- and 52-Across] (EDSELS).
OMOO meets OMAHA! How's that for (o)omph? For the grid's highlights, an EDSELS video, and a little Chaka Khan, click over to L.A. Crossword Confidential.
Brendan Quigley's Onion A.V. Club crossword
Did you get the theme right away? I didn't. "Are crowns, kimonos, and Trojans or princes, houses, and horses part of LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS?" I wondered. Eventually TROJAN and LIFESTYLES suggested condom brands, and I Googled crown kimono to see if the Google hits were condom-related. Indeed they were. I've never seen Crown or Kimono condoms. This is not your father's crossword theme, but it might include his old brand of condoms. The theme:
• 18A. CROWN PRINCE is the [Heir apparent].
• 30A. [1974 cult classic album by Sparks] is KIMONO MY HOUSE. Don't know the album or the artist.
• 35A/44A. The [original title of a Robin Leach series] is LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS.
• 57A. TROJAN HORSE is a [Destructive computer virus] as well as the ancient Greek ruse.
Answers and clues least likely to be seen in a daily newspaper's crossword:
• 1D. "I SUCK" is a [Perennial loser's comment].
• 49D. [Device that might work to your satisfaction] is a SEX TOY.
• 66A. [Certain hydroponic plant, slangily] is WEED.
• 54D. [One of Marlo's henchmen on "The Wire"] is named SNOOP.
Boring entries with more interesting clues than usual:
• 6D. EGO is clued with [Robbie Williams' "The ___ Has Landed"].
• 9D. INRI is clued as [Literally, "King of the Jews"] rather than the usual [Cross letters].
Brendan Quigley's blog crossword, "Looks Good Enough To Eat"
The theme is a quip from Arnold SCHWARZENEGGER: "I LOVE THANKSGIVING / TURKEY. IT'S / THE ONLY / TIME IN LOS / ANGELES THAT YOU / SEE NATURAL BREASTS." That's not technically true—the amount of breast meat on a typical factory-farmed turkey sold in grocery stores is hardly a natural development.
This 17x17 puzzle took me as long as a typical 21x21 Sunday puzzle. Where did the challenge arise? (1) The quote isn't crossed by a bunch of answers with easy clues, it's crossed by BEQesque fill with BEQesque clues. (2) The quote's broken into chunks that don't parse as natural units of meaning. "Turkey it's"? "Time in Los"? (3) Pop culture clues for things I didn't always know—Jet lead singer NIC Cester, a Mad Men character, Blackalicious's debut album NIA?
Minus 5 points for including CURED in the grid when the terrific THE CURE is already there. An easy fix: changing 82D ESC to ESL crossing LURED. Here's the "Friday I'm In Love" video if you're in a Cure mood.
November 24, 2009
Wednesday, 11/25/09
November 09, 2009
Tuesday, 11/10/09
Jonesin' 3:57
NYT 2:50
LAT 2:30
CS untimed
Uh, yeah, hi. I haven't done the puzzle yet because it's about to come out but I am about to leave to take a friend to a late-night MRI appointment (they have those!), and I just got home from the vaccination clinic (2.5-hour wait). Gah!
Go ahead and discuss amongst yourselves for the time being. It's Tuesday. How mystifying can a Tuesday theme be, anyway?
Updated Tuesday morning:
Bruce Venzke & Stella Daily's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Assorted Searches"—Janie's review
Last Tuesday, Doug Peterson gave us a puzzle entitled "Search Party." Bruce and Stella look to have developed the idea Doug set in motion. Now where the connection between today's title and today's theme fill is concerned, what ya sees is what ya gets: four theme phrases, each describing the object of a different search. The variety and range of quests, however, makes for some very fresh fill, and there's a nice SENSE of PLAY in the non-theme fill as well. Cue up The Coasters' "Searchin'" as you, too, go looking for the:
• 17A. [Object of a Ponce de León search] FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.
• 26A. [Object of an eHarmony.com search] PERFECT MATCH. Finian's Rainbow is enjoying a well-reviewed revival on Broadway right now, and in that Burton Lane/Yip Harburg score, our heroine Sharon explains in song that in matters of the heart, she'd been well-advised to "look to the rainbow" and then "follow the fella who follows a dream." Ah, for the days before the internet!
• 48A. [Object of a Sir Lancelot search] THE HOLY GRAIL. Wait—ya mean?...I thought that was the object of a Monty Python search!
• 63A. [Object of many a hopeful machine inventor's search] PERPETUAL MOTION. Hopeful—and deluded...
Bruce and Stella do name a lot of names right at the top of their puzzle: EDIE McClurg, GENA Rowlands, Mos DEF, Dr. PHIL, OONA (O'Neill) Chaplin, and Burt LAHR [...of "The Wizard of Oz"] (the score of which was written by our pal Yip Harburg with Harold Arlen). But they also give us several fill combinations that can be nicely tied together in a sub-theme kinda way. For instance, there's a [Quaint exclamation] for EGAD, and also a [Quaintly polite response], YES'M. Also quaint to my ear (and totally charming), is [Have a crush on, to a Brit], for FANCY. In baseball, if you [Overthrow, for one], you commit an ERROR. An error of a different sort is a TYPO, as demonstrated in [Thsi clue has one]. If it's more than that—a word that's wrong or a sentence that can be cut, say—the offending text may be marked DELE [Editor's "take it out"].
[Do-___ ] RE-MI is the way many a singer will warm up, tune up the voice. TUNE-UPS, though are also [Car maintenance requirements]. Benzoyl peroxide treats ACNE; ACME is [Wile E. Coyote's favorite catalogue company. IGNITES is a word for [Sets ablaze]; when something's [Going out, as a fire], it's DYING.
I liked the misdirection of [Stuff in blue books?] for SMUT. And you thought this was a reference to your college EXAM booklet. Then again, maybe the stuff in your exam books was smut... (You know—for your History of Porn class...) STIR is but one of the many great words for another great word, [Hoosegow]. Clink, pokey, cooler, coop, jug, can. Colorful language for a place where "grey" is the new everything, and the only kind of companionship might be a CHIA PET...
Alan Arbesfeld's' New York Times crossword
Okay! I'm only 12 hours behind schedule. Why, I'll be caught up in no time. Maybe.
Eh, I don't love this puzzle. The theme entries are five phrases that begin with the words TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN, which apparently is a a line associated with WOODY /ALLEN. First, I do not like Woody Allen. Second, never would've thought he was connected to that line. Two non-theme answers are stacked with the first and last theme answers and are the same length, which is not optimal. And then there are a zillion two-word answers littering the grid, along with a three-word, 9-letter phrase clued as a partial. Two short answers (TONY, EDIE Falco) are tied to THE SOPRANOS, but why? The THE is part of the Woody Allen theme. It's distracting to shift the focus to The Sopranos.
The glut of two-word answers includes SIC 'EM crossing SIT ON and IN AWE, SAW IN, partial Q AS, I'LL DRY, and I LIED. None is particularly juicy.
As for the theme entries themselves, I like THE SOPRANOS, MONEY LAUNDERING, and AND I LOVE HER, but TAKE PLACE is flat and RUN SCARED, well, I don't like it as much as those others.
I'm short on time this morning too, so...moving on!
Donna Levin's Los Angeles Times crossword
Lovely early-week puzzle from Donna. DRIVE at 68A ties everything together: The four longest Across answers begin with "___ drive" words. FLASH IN THE PAN, SEX EDUCATION, LINE ITEM VETO, and TEST BAN TREATY point towards the lively "drive" phrases flash drive (the itty bitty USB gadget that's so handy for transporting files, and that holds a gazillion more bytes than diskettes ever did), sex drive (hey-o!), line drive (baseball term), and test drive (we fell in love with our 9.5-year-old VW on the test drive when it took a sharp curve fast).
Highlights in the fill include ROUND TRIP ([There and back]), MOON RIVER ([Song with the lyric "I'm crossing you in style"]), VISHNU ([Four-armed Hindu deity]), and HIPSTER ([cool cat]). Overall, smooth stuff.
Matt Jones's Jonesin' crossword, "Home Slice"
Matt's theme is bread puns:
• 17A. [Bready agreement?] is YOU GOT THAT WHITE ("you got that right"). Except there's no inherent "agreement" in YOU GOT THAT WHITE. That's merely identifying that the white bread has been gotten. How about clueing this as a [Wonder lover's question?]?
• 32A. [Bready folk singing group?] is PITA, PAUL AND MARY (Peter, Paul and Mary). Cute.
• 42A. [Bready magic act?] clues SIEGFRIED AND RYE (Siegfriend and Roy). Cute.
• 60A. [Bready phrase after a double take?] is HEY, WHEAT A MINUTE ('hey, wait a minute"). This one has no surface sense at all. Boo!
Highlights:
• TAX DOLLARS are clued via [They're "at work" when talking about public projects]. I am most appreciative of the economic stimulus road resurfacing. My car is grateful for smooth roads replacing horribly pot-holed streets.
• ERIC BLAIR is the [Author who went by the pseudonym George Orwell].
• THE PLAYER is that [1992 Robert Altman satire of Hollywood execs].
• GRUB and [Vittles] have the same variety of slangy vibe to them.
Mystery TV answer #1 (because my son's too old for preschooler TV shows): LAN is clued ["Ni Hao, Kai-___" (Nickelodeon cartoon)]. I know the "local area network" sort of LAN, but needed every crossing for this one.
Mystery TV answer #2 (but inferrable): "I PIE" is the ["Good Eats" episode title where Alton Brown discusses lemon meringue]. I like Alton Brown's goofy-yet-practical sensibility.
October 29, 2009
Friday, 10/30/09
NYT 5:15
CHE 3:50
LAT 3:19
CS untimed
BEQ 5:38 (joon—paper)
WSJ see next post
Good news! Although the Newsday website has erected a pay wall ($5 per week), the Newsday crossword's still available for free via Stan Newman's site. As with Newsday's site, each day's puzzle comes in online and PDF options (no Across Lite, alas), and you can access the last two weeks' puzzles via pull-down menu. Thanks, Stan.
I'll be handing out Halloween candy and chaperoning a fourth-grade field trip tomorrow, so the BEQ and WSJ blogging will have to wait until late in the day...unless one of the charming and delightful Crossword Fiend team members is in the mood to fill in. If one of them is, please be sure to butter them up with fulsome praise.
David Levinson Wilk's New York Times crossword
Insane grid—six 15-letter entries going across and six 15s going down, divided by rows and columns of 3s and framed with corners of 5s. Getting each 15 to intersect six other 15s—all of them solid answers—does mean that those 3s are a hot mess. But let's focus mainly on the big guns:
• 17A. [Whitney Houston hit recorded for the 1988 Summer Olympics] is ONE MOMENT IN TIME. One wonders: Can a moment be in anything other than time?
• 24A. I do not know this "DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO," a [1974 Rolling Stones hit]. Apparently it is subtitled "(Heartbreaker)."
• 31A. THE SAHARA DESERT is [Home for an addax and dorcas gazelle].
• 41A. The PL and X pointed me towards DUPLEX APARTMENT, but I didn't know precisely what [Maisonette] meant.
• 48A. Don't know the novel or the Bible quote. STRAIT IS THE GATE is an [Andre Gide novel whose title comes from Matthew 7:14].
• 58A. The SWIMSUIT EDITION is a [Big newsstand seller for some magazines]. I never miss The Economist's swimsuit issue. Hot!
• 3D. [Bailiwick] is a cool word that means AREA OF EXPERTISE.
• 5D. CHOCOLATE KISSES are [Sweet little things with points to them]. Chocolate! 'Tis the season. I have Kit-Kats, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Snickers Almond bars in the house. None of them will go to trick-or-treaters because we don't get any.
• 6D. Our unfamiliar technical term for the day is FIELD CAPACITIES, or [Soil water saturation limits]. Chicago had a ton of rain about a week ago (2" to 4") and another 1" to 2" is expected in the current rainstorm. I suspect the FIELD CAPACITIES are nigh unto bursting.
• 8D. NATIONAL ANTHEMS are [Country music], in a sense.
• 9D. If you've [Taken things a bit too far], you've GONE OVER THE LINE.
• 11D. [Like grandchildren] clues THIRD-GENERATION. Immigrants are first-generation, their kids are considered second-generation Americans, and the grandkids are third.
There is no shortage of ugly fill in between these sparkling 15s, but there are some beauts like the clue for 1A: [It no longer circulates around the Seine] clues the FRANC, an ex-unit of currency. Here are 10 toughies:
• 23A. RPS is [Turning meas.]. Revolutions per second?
• 28A. FIL is [Thread: Fr.]. Filament is a related word.
• 38A. TEP completes [Im-ho-___, Boris Karloff's role in "The Mummy"].
• 39A. LER is [Celtic sea god]. Not to be confused with a Roman household god, LAR.
• 62A. ANSAE are [Looped handles]. Old-school crosswordese.
• 63A. EDM is clued as [Teacher's deg.]. Sometimes it's M.Ed., sometimes it's Ed.M., and sometimes it goes all the way to MAEd. or MSEd.
• 67A. Always remember that kites can be birds of prey. [Kite relatives] are ERNES here, without any mention of "sea" or "eagle."
• 10D. The baseball [Diamond figure on a 2006 postage stamp] is Mel OTT.
• 18D. MAO quote: [He said "Learn from the masses, and then teach them"].
• 26D. [Canto contraction] clues O'ER. Why "canto"? Specific way to clue the generic concept of "words used in old poetry"?
• 43D. [Hearing aids, briefly] are big PAS, or public address systems, and not little hearing aids worn in the ear.
• 52D. [Odds' end?] is TO ONE, as in "the odds are a hundred TO ONE." Eh, it might've been kind to just go with a fill-in-the-blank clue instead of using trickery to obscure the partial.
TDS, or touchdowns, are clued by way of [Bears make them, in brief]. My son has a brand-new Chicago Bears jersey, which brings grief to his cheesehead father. I like HAL's clue: [Anthropomorphic film villain]. The suffix -INE stinks as fill, but it's salvaged by the clue, [Salt additive?] (saltine crackers). I also like the [Bookie's charge, for short], the VIG (short for vigorish).
It's weird to have three German words in one puzzle. TOD is [Death, in Deutschland]; Mann's Death in Venice is translated from Tod in Venedig. DER is clued as an [Austrian article]—speaking of Austria, did you hear about Gov. Schwarzenegger's obscene acrostic lurking in a note to a Democratic S.F. assemblyman? Wordplay! EINES is a [German indefinite article].
Trip Payne's Chronicle of Higher Education crossword, "Poetic Couplets"
This is, I believe, the third in Trip's series of literary-themed CHE puzzles. Each theme entry is a made-up phrase consisting of two poets' names that are also common English words. Can you believe there are at least 10 such poets? And that their names can be combined in this fashion? The theme didn't strike me as particularly entertaining, but that could just be my mood. Much more appealing are the nonthematic fill and clues. We'll save that for dessert. Here's the meat/tofu of the puzzle:
• 17A. [Get the bartender's attention during Oktoberfest?] is POUND STEIN. Ezra P., Gertrude S. Nice visual/aural entry.
• 25A. SWIFT BROOKS (Jonathan S., Gwendolyn B.) is clued as [They're hard to ford?]
• 37A. [Dismal winter weather?] is GRAY FROST. Thomas G., Robert F.
• 52A. A [Valet?] is a GUEST PARKER. Dorothy P. was a wit and a poet. Who is Guest? Wikipedia suggests Barbara Guest and Edgar Guest, both American poets, and Harry Guest, a British poet. Is one of them markedly more famous than the others? Here is Barbara G.'s "Finnish Opera."
• 61A. STRAND POPE is clued [Leave Benedict XVI in the lurch?]. Alexander P., of course. Google points me towards Mark Strand, who was awarded the '99 Pulitzer for his poetry.
Either 30% or 40% of the theme's poets are women—nice to have a theme with less of a gender imbalance than we often have.
Time for dessert, some cruciverbal creme brulée:
• 33A. [Lab fuel, perhaps?] is ALPO. Dog food for Labrador retrievers.
• 51A. [Be with someone else?] clues ARE. "I" or "you" or "she" am, are, or is, but when any of us pair up into a "we," plural "you," or "they," then "be" conjugates to ARE.
• 3D. STUCK-UP is [Snobbish]. Great fill.
• 11D. [Where a peripheral may connect] is your computer's USB PORT. Raise your hand if you always try to jam things into the USB PORT upside down.
• 28D. I was briefly stumped by [Musical nickname of the 1960s] with ***FOU* in place. FAB FOUR! Of course.
• 45D. Did you contemplate any wrong answers for [Body part that may be "free" or "attached"]? Eventually I remembered the EARLOBE. (Mine's attached. A clear mark of superiority.)
• 53D. [Ctrl-V, in Windows] is ⌘-v on a Mac: PASTE the text or image in the virtual clipboard.
Dan Naddor's Los Angeles Times crossword
Here's a theme that did amuse me. Phrases that begin with a Q lose the Q's K sound but retain the W:
• 17A. [Drones losing their pep?] are WILTING BEES (quilting bees).
• 23A. [Train former senator Dole to do without?] is WEAN ELIZABETH (Queen Elizabeth).
• 33A. WAKING IN MY BOOTS (quaking...) is [The first indication that I had one too many last night?]. This one's my favorite.
• 48A. [Earp in a stage show?] is WYATT ON THE SET (quiet...). I like the surprise of the radical spelling change here.
• 56A. [Skater Katarina enjoying a Camel?] is WITT SMOKING (quit smoking). There's an ice-skating move called the camel, isn't there? The Hamill camel? Nice double-action for the camel/Camel.
When I was a kid I loved the [Tubular chocolate snack] (really more of a roll than a tube), the Hostess HO-HO. And now? Blurgh. Maybe they're more palatable when used in recipes. Favorite fill/clues:
• 45A. You know the phrase "rich as CROESUS"? He's the [Lydian king known for his wealth].
• 63A. [Sentence units: Abbr.] are YRS., or years in a prison sentence. Not words in a written sentence.
• 3D. Super fresh! HELL WEEK is a [College hazing period]. Anyone see the sorority hazing on Heroes? Hazing is even worse when the hazer is invisible.
• 22D. "I BEFORE E" is the [Start of a rule that keeps you from spelling weirdly?]. The expanded rule, "I before E except after C, except when said 'ay' as in 'neighbor' and 'weigh,'" still doesn't cover all the exceptions, such as "weird." In the clue, "weirdly" is a word you'd misspell when following the rule rather than an adverb modifying "spelling."
• 42D. TWIGGY is an [Aptly named mod model].
• 43D. An OYSTER is a [Pearl harborer]. Cute clue.
Updated Friday morning:
Donna S. Levin's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Picnic Invasion"—Janie's review
Really, there's nothing like the appearance of those pesky insects at the left to spoil a perfectly lovely picnic. But the good news is that when they colonize in well-known phrases—as is the case in today's puzzle—they make themselves more than welcome and become the source of more than one real or [Cyberchuckle] (LOL). How does Donna do this? It's a familiar formula: well-known phrase + ANT = new and whimsical phrase. Two of the critters invade at the middle, two at the end for a most successful attack. Hold the Raid and regard:
•20A. "Adam-12" (the late '60s-mid '70s tv show about LAPD patrol officers) + ANT = ADAMANT TWELVE [Strong-willed jury?]. Or perhaps the gender-neutral version of Twelve Angry Men... Nice that the very next clue references another judicial body with [Mo. the Supreme Court convenes], which is OCT.
•32A. Page break + ANT = PAGEANT BREAK [Commercial during the Miss America telecast?] "We interrupt the Talent Competition to bring you these words from..."
•41A. Green peas + ANT = GREEN PEASANT [Ecofriendly field laborer]. Oh, good. Glad this wasn't clued as [Field laborer with upset stomach] or [Field worker from Mars]...
•55A. Perfect ten + ANT = PERFECT TENANT [Landlord's desire?]. This is terrific.
Terrific, too, are such combos as: [Beat] for TIRED (where the correct fill is an adjective and not a verb), [Great gobs] (as in "Great green gobs of greasy, grimy gopher guts...") for OODLES, [Giddyap's opposite] for WHOA, and [Corner] for TREE (verb, not noun).
There are also two mini-themes running through the non-theme fill today—one for the scholars, one for the athletes. For the scholars: there're the Hamlet double-bill of "TO BE..." [Start of a famous soliloquy] and RUB [Difficulty]—as in "...ay, there's the rub," which occurs in the eighth line of that same soliloquy. There's also a nod to Arthur Miller's third Tony-winning Best Play with SALEM ["The Crucible" setting]; and to another giant in the history of American dramatic literature with ELECTRA [Mourning becomes her, per Eugene O'Neill].
For the athletes: that [Hockey infraction] is ICING (sorry, food-lovers!); NCAA is the [March Madness org.] (go there—you can sign up now!); NLE (National League East) is the [Marlin's and Mets' div.] (ALE, ALW, NLE, NLW, etc., etc.—you knew all those additional franchises and league subdivisions had to be good for somethin'...); and for those times when you're not sitting on the couch, there's the GYM [Place to pump iron]. I'm also going to include SARATOGA here, for while it's certainly the [Site of a pivotal 1777 battle], the Saratoga Race Track, which opened in August of 1863, is the "oldest organized sporting venue of any kind in the United States."
Finally, for everyone else... Donna has included or referenced two very colorful characters amidst the fill: CHARO, kitschy [Celebrity known for her "cuchi-cuchi"] and with TRIX, the [Cereal with a spokesrabbit].
Brendan Emmett Quigley's blog puzzle—joon's review
joon here, filling in. i'd have been here earlier, but i just got around to today's puzzles. anyway, this is my favorite themeless BEQ in weeks, maybe months. maybe ever! it was that good. this is definitely not a newspaper crossword, what with OH SHIT and BITCH-SLAP enlivening the grid. my favorite entries, in no particular order (other than those two): KNAPSACKS; ADUMBRATE, an unusual word that means [Foreshadow]; ESOTERIC; EGOSURFER, one who googles his own name; EATS CROW; evil HR director CATBERT; and the janis joplin classic ME AND BOBBY MCGEE. other fresh answers included ARIANNA huffington of the huffington post; PODCASTS; rapper LIL KIM; brendan's favorite show THE WIRE; and FACE PALM, an [Act of exasperation, in modern-day slang]. i did not know that last one at all. other less familiar answers:
October 20, 2009
Wednesday, 10/21/09
BEQ 5:09
Onion 3:47
NYT 3:26
LAT 2:58
CS untimed
Peter Collins' New York Times crossword
All right, this stealth theme totally snuck under my radar, and I filled in 65-Across with the Downs so I never saw the explanatory clue 'til after I was done. Those 9-letter Across answers? Yeah, they have nothing to do with the theme. Instead, we get a concatenation of POP singers:
• 1A, 22A. BOY / GEORGE is clued with ["Whew!"] and [Dragon-slaying saint].
• 22A, 26A. Wham's GEORGE / MICHAEL adds [Archangel in Daniel] to the mix.
• 26A, 46A. JACKSON is [Mississippi's capital], and MICHAEL / JACKSON's concert rehearsal movie comes out this month. Am reading the Entertainment Weekly article about that.
• 46A, 49A. JACKSON / BROWNE, ex of Daryl Hannah back in the day, evokes ["Hagar the Horrible" creator Dik].
Is there a name for this sort of linkage from one name to the next? Not a word ladder, not a "Before & After"...what would you call it?
There are answers in the credit column and answers in the debit column. First up, the credits:
• 55A. The clue for OSLO, [Where the traitorous Vidkun Quisling lived], is great because it's fun to say "Vidkun Quisling." He collaborated with the Nazis in WWII, and his last name is now a lowercase noun, quisling, meaning a traitor who collaborates with an occupying force.
• 42D. JALISCO is [Guadalajara's state]. "Vidkun Quisling never vacationed in Guadalajara, Jalisco."
• 17A. DUMBS DOWN is clued as [Oversimplifies, as educational standards]. No relation to the [Job for a dummy?] that is a CRASH TEST (58A).
• 34A. A beer KEG is a capital-B [Bud holder, of sorts]. Budweiser, that is. (See also ALE, or {Draft pick?].)
• Winnie the Pooh gets a shout-out in 18D: ["Oh, ___!" (Pooh expression)]. Raise your hand if BOTHER was a flat-out gimme.
• 42A. [Ad music] is a JINGLE. Fun word.
Debits:
• 39D. [Place to dip a quill] is an INK POT? Inkwell, I know. This pot o' ink? Not familiar.
• 58D. [Early 10th-centure year] is CMI, or 901.
• 22D. GREG gets clued as [Dharma's sitcom spouse]. Aren't we allowed to forget that show ever existed now? Famous Gregs grumble that they were left out in the cold. I guess cyclist Greg Lemond couldn't be in the clue, what with LE MONDE (43A: [French newspaper since 1944]) in the grid, but Louganis has some immortality, no? And Greg Brady is the all-time classic sitcom GREG.
• One part of the no-duplications guideline for crosswords says that two words with a shared root should not appear together. So it's sketchy to have both OVO and OVOLO in the same puzzle—and crossing at the V, no less! OVOLO, or 31D: [Convex molding], is an architectural term deriving from an Italian diminutive of "egg," from the Latin. And OVO, clued as 35A" [Ab ___ (from the start)], is in a Latin phrase that means, literally, "from the egg."
Donna Levin's Los Angeles Times crossword
The theme is "Hockey Terms I Don't Know," basically—four "blanking a blank" phrases begin with words that double as hockey no-nos that'll land you in the penalty box. Here are the theme entries:
• 17A. [Electrical worker's action] is TRIPPING A SWITCH. This is a kind of icky theme entry, if you ask me. I just asked my husband what sort of "flipping" is a violation in hockey. I'm not an electrical worker, so "tripping a switch" feels like an awkward combination of words to me. I'm sure Dave, my electrician who looks just like Tim Russert, would tell me the phrase is super familiar. You know, if the theme entries weren't all "blanking a blank," this could've been the Dave Matthews Band song "Tripping Billies." Then all sorts of people could complain about quasi-obscure pop culture references.
• 24A. [Discount retailer's action] is SLASHING A PRICE. You know what? If they're slashing prices, maybe they weren't starting out with discount prices and don't deserve the moniker "discount retailer." Furthermore: They're only slashing the one price? Maybe it would have been better to do without the thematic consistency of the "blanking a blank" structure to allow a more natural-sounding phrase here.
• 41A. [Feuder's action] is HOLDING A GRUDGE. I like this one. I kept the first four letters blank for a while because it could've been NURSING A GRUDGE too. And yes, I'd like to see the hockey game in which the players wind up in the penalty box because they were nursing.
• 54A. [Accused speeder's action] is FIGHTING A TICKET. I've never done this. Too much hassle in Chicago, alas.
• 47D. [Place where the starts of this puzzle's four longest answers result in a penalty] is the RINK. Hockey rink, not a figure skating rink. Although I reckon the figure skating judges would not look kindly on any tripping, slashing, fighting action on the ice rink.
There's a word in this puzzle that I don't think I've ever seen before: NOVIA, or 27D: [Spanish sweetheart]. You guys know this word? I took German and French myself. The L.A. Times crossword does seem to include a few more Spanish-language entries than the East Coast–based puzzles.
The bottom corners of this grid seemed a tad clunky. The CN TOWER is a fantastic entry (50A: [Toronto skyline landmark]), but yeesh! WKLY and EEEE and RTES crossing ALEE and plural RYES? The southwest corner has a nice intersection between CRASHES and DASHES, plus the start of a theme entry and the capper, RINK, but there's also the possessive SKY'S crossing CFOS and an AGCY.
Oh, hello, it's BASEBALL, [America's pastime] (9D). Mr. Fiend was watching the Dodgers/Yankees game this evening. My kid noticed that the on-screen scoreboard thingy has two double letters: NYY vs. LAA. Letter patterns! We'll make a crossworder out of him yet. Can't push it. He needs to come to it in his own time. He's only nine, so he could use a few more years to hone his spelling before he gets into crosswords.
Runners know the word SUPINATE (4D: Rotate face-up, as one's palm). I haven't much encountered this word in a hand setting. If your ankles tend to roll outward when you walk, you're a supinator; ankles rolling inward are pronating. The words are related, obviously, to supine and prone, the words for lying on your back and face down, respectively.
When they send the RADIO CAR (37D: Police cruiser), you can expect to see the COPSE (30D: Thicket), right? "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?"
Updated Wednesday morning:
Raymond Hamel's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "The Evolution of Man"—Janie's review
What a coup-de-construction this is, as the embedded word man makes its journey across the grid in five phrases. Or phases... Not only is there a lot of theme fill (65 squares—three 15s and two 10s), but notice how the position of the letters M-A-N shifts three spaces to the right at each pass. That's progress! And here's how it plays out:
•17A. MANAGEMENT [Business owners].
•24A. GERMAN SHEPHERDS [Rin Tin Tin and kin]. Nice clue.
•40A. HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE [Realm of Charles V].
•50A. TIGER SALAMANDER [Blotchy amphibian]. Others are more vivid, but here's a pair with muted, "blotchy" tones.
•63A. PAUL NEWMAN ["Hud" star].
In keeping with the "natural history" direction of the theme, it's worth noting the clues and fill that add their support. In addition to those German shepherds and that tiger salamander, the natural world is also represented by:
•COOS/[This is what it sounds like when doves cry];
•SEDONA/[Arizona's "Red Rocks" city];
•DOE/[Female deer];
•ELM/[Tree with "helicopter seeds"] (though it seems the elm produces seeds that fall more into the "flutterer/spinner" category than say the maple, a true "helicopter" seed producer);
•LEECH/[Parasitic sort] ("UGH!"/ ["Yuck!"]);
•YOKE/[Connector for oxen]; and bringing it back to the canines,
•DOO/[Scooby's tail?].
And before parting, I'll just mention that it was good to see: METER MAID, though I wish she'd been clued in connection with "Lovely Rita" and not the quite so straightforward [Ticket issuer]; and also TUBBY, [Tuba in a children's story]. This link will take you to a seriously charming animated version from 1947, narrated by Victor Jory.
Matt Gaffney's Onion A.V. Club crossword
I really liked this theme. I was proud of myself for noticing that the first three theme entries contained English place names. Now, one's a city (CHARLOTTE YORK), one's an island (JERSEY NUMBER), and one's a county (HAMPSHIRE PIG), but they seemed close enough. Then I hit the fourth theme entry: HECHO EN MEXICO, clued as [Clothing tag words, perhaps]. Whoa. We're not in England anymore. Then I worked my way down to the end and NO NEWS: ["I haven't heard anything yet," or the theme of this puzzle]. Oho! New York, New Mexico, etc. Cute. Unexpected.
Let's give out some prizes, shall we?
• Vocabulary word of the day: ARROGATE means [Seize].
• Least likely to appear in the daily paper's crossword: LACTATED, clued with the past-tense [Got milk?]. No, wait. It's gotta be TALK SHIT, or [Trash someone].
• Most arbitrary combination of words: TWO GOALS are [Not quite a hat-trick] in hockey.
• Most suggestive of a menu item: Ehud OLMERT atop an OMELET. Would an Olmert omelet be kosher if it had cheese, or does it need to stick with veggies?
• Least sexist clue: ["Right away, ma'am!"] for "I'M ON IT!" Too often the daily puzzles go with male = gender-neutral instead of going with female = gender-neutral half the time.
Brendan Quigley's blog crossword, "Unfinished Business: Going 0-for-2"
Brendan illustrates the BAD CROSSING concept ([Poor crossword construction technique that requires too much of the solver]) with two bad crossings. Intentional bad crossings! I like it.
The first bad crossing is where 21A and 8D collide. ["Crystalised" band, 2009] is THE XX and ['80s video game with falling blocks] is KLAX. I did guess this one because KLAX sounds like "clacks," which is sort of what falling blocks sound like. I hit random letters on the keyboard, starting with the QWERTY row, for the first letter of 24D: [Vikings tight end Shiancoe] *ISANTHE, where he met 23A: [Animal Collective singer ___ Tare], A*EY. V! Who knew? VISANTHE and AVEY. My son's a Vikings fan because of the purple, but I can't say I've paid any attention to the televised games.
There was another sort of bad crossing with 47A: [Big name in chemicals] and 37D: [Cubist painter Roger]. BASF is somewhat familiar, but Roger BISSIERE? Not.
Nobody had trouble with 27A: [Crossword blogger Reynaldo], right? Right? I was afraid I'd be embroiled in a bad crossing scenario, but HAIRCUT, DARE ME, and EPOXY are not mysterious entries. Can you imagine the ignominy of being considered the reason a crossing is bad?
Favorite clues:
• 41A. [Barbed wire armband, e.g.] for TAT. Should I get a crossword grid armband tattoo?
• 52A. A [Team building?] is the ARENA.
• 22D. [Taking a little off the top?] clues HAIRCUT. That's mostly a guy haircut thing. I'd rather take a little off the ends than the top.
• 40D. Trivia! ASA GRAY is the [Botanist who arranged "On the Origin of Species: to be published in the States]. Botanist? I thought he was an anatomist. No, that's Henry Gray who wrote Gray's Anatomy.
October 07, 2009
Thursday, 10/8/09
NYT 4:26
LAT 2:42
CS untimed
Tausig untimed
Scott Atkinson's New York Times crossword
Do you know how many words can precede time to make a compound word or a phrase? A whole lotta. Why, this TIME AFTER TIME theme has four pairs of "___ time" concepts, and those pairs are themselves established phrases:
You know what "time" didn't make it into this theme? "Hammer time!" I can't think of a word that partners with hammer that can also precede time.
I had a hard time getting into this puzzle, as the clues in the upper left corner just weren't so yielding. Assorted clues I didn't get right away:
Favorite clues: 32A: To [Not just turn down] the volume is to MUTE it. 41A: [Palm product] is palm OIL, not a Palm Pre smartphone. The 13A: [Leading lady] in a field is a DOYENNE. 47D: [-like] clues ESQUE, as in Zolaesque.
The rhyming words NATTER and RATTER stick out. One's a [Vermin hunter] and the other's a verb meaning [Flap one's gums] like a nabob of negativism.
And before I go, let me refer you to the video of the Cyndi Lauper song "Time After Time". I've always liked that one.
Donna Levin's Los Angeles Times crossword
Donna's theme is COVERT OPS, or [Hush-hush activities]. Never noticed before that it looks like "cover tops" if you slide the word space over. The other four theme entries contain a covert OPS spanning two words in a multi-word phrase. To STOP SHORT is to [Jam on the brakes]; in tennis, a DROP SHOT is a [Soft court stroke]; [Small family businesses] are MOM-AND-POP STORES; and CHOP SUEY is a [Stir-fried dish]. There's a singular covert OP that's not part of the theme in COP A PLEA; surely it's our undercover double agent who's been nailed and is now copping a plea.
Not sure why AMOCO/[Big name in gas] isn't clued with a "one-time." Are there still Amoco stations? They've all been converted to BPs around here.
The top half of the grid's got some great fill—JAY-Z meets JIHADS beside SQUIRT crossing PAISLEY. Lower down, though, I'm less happy. PPPS is a post-post-postscript, or [Third afterthought, in a ltr.]. There's a blast from the distant past with the Southeastern pile-up or SEATO, the [1954-1977 defense gp.]; ERGOT, the [Grain disease]; EPODES, or [Lyric poems]; and Britishly spelled OCHRE, or [Yellowish earth tone]. Add in the partial ERR ON and plural DOUGS, and you've got yourself a "meh" corner.
Updated Thursday morning:
Randolph Ross's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Seven EZ Pieces"—Janie's review
I'm not a [Huge fan] of the word ADORER, but if that's the definition, then I'm definitely an adorer of this puzzle. Could I compose a PAEAN [Joyous song] to it, I would. My words will have to suffice. Let's ASSAY [Examine] this creation to see what gives it its decided EDGE [Advantage].
The title tells the tale. There are seven lively theme-answers, and the E-Z pairing makes an appearance in each one. In fact, in six of the seven we get EE-Z; in the seventh (at center), we're treated to EE-ZZ. So there are a lotta Zs today.
Then, and most impressively, these seven theme-answers fill 67 squares. More than that, they all interlock and/or overlap at least one other theme-answer. Holy moly. That's a serious feat of construction and does tend to AMAZE me. And the non-theme fill does not suffer as a result, but holds its own very nicely.
So here we go. There's:
In addition to that legitimate stage mini-theme, Randy also gives a nod to the film industry with both ACAD. [Pt. of AMPAS] and [MPAA issuances] PGS. The former is the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who hand out the Oscars; the latter, the Motion Picture Association of America, who hand out the ratings...
Just because they also enliven the puzzle, let me also note some other good pairings, like:
Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader crossword, "Out on a Limb
Right at 1-Across, there's a SPIDER, an [Animal that has something in common with this week's puzzle]. Boy, my husband was watching a show on the Discovery channel last night about arthropod combat. Lots of large, venomous spiders, plus insects and scorpions. (Luckily, nothing in the centipede department, because those critters freak me out.) Word to the wise: If you are a bug, steer clear of the praying mantis because it will mess you up. So, anyway, there were ample opportunities to note that spiders indeed have eight LEGs, like the fill in this puzzle. The four longest answers and the four 7s in the corners each have a LEG hidden within.
Clues of note:
September 22, 2009
Wednesday, 9/23/09
Trip Payne's "Themeless Challenger #6" 8:08
Onion 5:12
NYT 3:27
LAT 3:03
CS untimed
BEQ 11:50 (Downs only)
Jonathan Gersch's New York Times crossword
The applet's buggy tonight, so I can't swear my Across Lite solution is correct.
We get a history lesson in today's puzzle. Wikipedia tells me that it was September 11, 1609—just a hair over 400 years ago—that Hudson reached New York by boat. Can you imagine his surprise when he sailed up the Hudson River for the first time? "Dude! This river has the same name as me!"
The theme entries give you the details:
Did I count wrong, or are there really 84 theme squares in this puzzle? That's a huge amount of theme material. The short fill is fairly standard, nothing special but also not remotely as compromised as it could be given the thematic density. I will call this puzzle a success.
And then there's the cute HOAX/COAX crossing ([Bigfoot photo, e.g.] and [Say "Pretty please?," say]), plus a smattering of cool longish fill. Do you know what the singular of TSONGAS ([1992 presidential aspirant Paul]) is? Two Paul TSONGAS, one Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. (One's Greek-American, the other's Congolese-French.) The colloquial "SO THERE!" is clued with ["Told ya!"], and a HOODLUM is a [Tough] with a tough clue that looks like an adjective rather than a noun.
Trip Payne's "Themeless Challenger #6"
Trip has posted a new puzzle at Triple Play Puzzles—a 21x21 themeless puzzle. No spoilers in this write-up because I figure few of you have seen the puzzle yet. But you should! Just follow the link at the very top of this post and scroll down to the Sept. 22 addition; the crossword's available in both Across Lite and PDF.
I don't tend to love the structural record-breaker puzzles because all too often the pursuit of a record becomes more important than the solver's enjoyment. Trip reports that "this puzzle ties the record for fewest black squares in a 21x21 puzzle, with just 51," and the result is triple-stacked 13s and 9s hooked up to stair-stepping swaths of 7s. Sounds like a recipe for crapola fill, right? Wrong. Most of the longer answers are super colorful entries, and there was only one answer (21A) I found utterly unfamiliar. My only quibble with this puzzle is that Trip calls it "difficult" and I found it much more pliable than I expected.
Keep 'em coming, Trip! I loved this crossword.
(Thanks to Tuning Spork for the heads-up in comments on a previous post.)
Updated Wednesday morning:
Donna S. Levin's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Artistic License"—Janie's review
From Donna's atelier comes a shout out to the fine arts—the kind you're likely to hang on the wall. The first word of each of the lively theme-phrases is a word associated with the artist's world:
Before looking at some of the nifty fill tie-ins, I want to note some nifty clue/fill combos:
Now, perhaps I'm taking some artistic license of my own (for a change...), but it seems to me it's not just painting that Donna gives attention to today. There are other arts as well: drama, the spoken and written word, photography, dance. If you [Emulate Cicero] and ORATE—or if you're a vocalist or you ACT [Tread the boards]—you need a good set of PIPES, i.e, a good [Voice, slangily]. (Btw, where board-treading is concerned, Mark Twain and Bret Harte WROTE the play ["Ah] SIN, and Karel Čapek wrote R.U.R.) A PHOTO OP gives shutterbugs the chance to do their best, whether that op is scheduled (like a [PR event...] or serendipitous. Oh, yes—Donna also includes the dance world by way of PLIÉ [Ballet bend]. Though his medium for his dance portraits was so often pastel, here is a link to "La classe de danse," a Degas masterpiece in oil set in the dance studio.
The other set of fill tie-ins work off of the lovely BROKE BREAD [Dined, quaintly]. What's on the table? Well, it's loaded with vitamins (and not to everyone's taste...), but there's SWISS CHARD [Leafy vegetable in the beet family], that SPEAR [Asparagus unit], and BLINI [Putin's pancakes]. Another meal entry is SEDER [Paschal feast]. But forget the bread. Here you'll break matzoh. (p.s. I like the way BROKAW crosses broke bread; and in the name of ecumenicism, do note that in the grid, POPE [Bishop of Rome] sits UPON PEW [Basilica bench].)
Two more things: notice how the underworld has grown. Today we see both POSSE [Homey's entourage] and CAPO, name for a Mafia [Underboss]. Far less (potentially) threatening (though probably just as political in its own way...) are the (Benevolent and Protective Order of) Elks—or the B.P.O.E. Those'd be the [Lodge letters].
Bruce Venzke and Stella Daily's Los Angeles Times crossword
Today's L.A. Crossword Confidential writeup is by me. Ergo, edited excerpts!
Four phrases begin with words that mean "healthy"
It took me a while to see what the theme was here. That was complicated a tad by the Across eight-letter answers, which looked like they could be part of the theme—SOB STORY and LOUSED UP are just good fill, though, not theme entries.
Theme answers:
What else have we got here?
Brendan Quigley's blog crossword, "Machine Shop: A very P.C. puzzle"
This puzzle was labeled "easy" so I decided to work it with just the Down clues. Big mistake! It's not easy enough for that. It took me 50% longer than Trip's themeless 21x21. Cute theme, which it took me forever to suss out. I was thinking of industrial machines, and the CRAFT at the end of one theme entry didn't dissuade me from that theory. The theme answers all begin with computer brands: H.P. LOVECRAFT (hey-o, shout-out to Al Sanders' job!), APPLE PIE ORDER, DELL MAGAZINES (which I had as the mystifying DOLL MAGAZINES for a while, what with not reading the Across clues), and GATEWAY DRUG.
REUBENS is clued as [Sandwiches with corned beef, sauerkraut and Swiss cheese] rather than with reference to Paul Reubens, who has a new Twitter feed. It's not entertaining yet. Give it time. Or just follow my Twitter feed instead: OrangeXW.
26D was a fun one to figure out without the Acrosses. [Flair], *I****...hmm...why not fill three of those blanks with Z? PIZAZZ is always good. That reminds me of Matt Gaffney's Kaidoku book, where thinking of common letters is invariably the wrong approach because he's snuck the uncommon ones in a zillion times instead. If you like Kaidoku (a.k.a. code crosswords), check out Alex Boisvert's blog for puzzles from Alex, Matt, and assorted guests.
Tyler Hinman's Onion A.V. Club crossword
Tyler riffs on FANTASY FOOTBALL by redefining four football terms as if they pertained to fantasy/role-playing sorts of video games. That is not the sort of theme that's going to resonate strongly with me, is it? No, it is not.
What else is in this puzzle? CHARISMA is clued as a [Pick-up artist's asset]. Eww, "pick-up artists." Read about the abhorrent underpinnings of the PUA philosophy.
BASENJI is a cool-looking word. It's a breed of [Dog that can't bark]. There's some standard crossword fill, more sports (DPS, RESEED, UTES, LAY IN, NET, CLE), pop culture, Shakespeare, a good mix of stuff. Favorite clues: [Runner?] for POL(itician), [See stars, perhaps?] for LOOK UP; and [Without dissent, phallocentrically] for TO A MAN. The puzzles Ben Tausig edits or creates seem much more likely than the daily newspaper puzzles to allude to sexist language via clueing—I love that!
September 14, 2009
Tuesday, 9/15/09
Jonesin' 3:54
NYT 3:18
LAT 3:03
CS untimed
Fran and Lou Sabin's New York Times crossword
Lou Sabin has been contributing crosswords to the NYT since 1950, so he's closing in on the 60-year mark as a Times constructor. He and his wife Fran cooked up a theme featuring THINGS WITH WINGS (38A: [What the answers to all the asterisked clues are]). Those winged things are:
It's mildly distracting that there's an ORIOLE'S NEST ([Spherical home in a tree]) running alongside the RAF theme entry, what with orioles having wings. And then opposite the ORIOLE'S NEST are some ENLISTED MEN ([Grunts]), who put me in mind of the RAF. These days, some of those grunts are enlisted women, no?
Old-time nostalgia clue for the day: 49D: [Old "You press the button, we do the rest" sloganeer] is KODAK, and that slogan was created in 1888. High-school nostalgia moment for me: 47A: ["To your health!"] clues PROSIT, the German toast. We learned German drinking songs in high school: Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit.
I'll leave it there and try to blog another puzzle or two tonight.
Matt Jones's Jonesin' crossword, "Dietary Restrictions"—available now via Google Groups
The four 15-letter theme entries should really be longer, but Matt has lopped off the endings of these foods and reclued them accordingly:
Among the livelier or more unusual fill are these:
Updated Tuesday morning:
Randall J. Hartman's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Flat Broke"—Janie's review
Take the word flat, and break it up into two unequal parts: fla and t. How many phrases are bookended with this particular combination? OneLook.com notes some: 344, in fact. How many—by length and quality—are puzzle-worthy? "Ay, there's the rub." I'm happy to say that Randy has found four prime candidates:
There are some fine clue/fill combos that contribute to this puzzle's lively feel, so let's take a look at:Never've I chased the honey-bee
Who carelessly cajoled me.
Somebody else just as sweet as he
Cheered me and consoled me...
There are also some brow-raisers: DUANE [Chapman of "Dog the Bounty Hunter"], who is someone I've never heard of (nor any of his work); early 20th century ball player TRIS [Speaker of Cooperstown], who is someone I've encountered only in the puzzles but don't know in a more organic (or memorable...) way (not atypical of me 'n' sports figures, no matter what their contribution to the game); and TEE OFF ON for [Chew out]. When you're angry with someone, you're teed off at him/her. But until today, I'd never heard the expression tee off on, as in "I was so angry I really had to tee off on him." Are any of you familiar with this phrase? Is it maybe a regional thang?
I sure never heard of TEE OFF ON, but there it is in the Mac's Oxford American dictionary widget with an "informal" tag. One of the usage examples is "He will tee off on conservative politicians," and the other is "Chang teed off on his opponent's serve." With a definition of "sharply attack someone or something," I don't quite see that making sense in the second example.
Donna Levin's Los Angeles Times crossword
LOST IN SPACE premiered on this date in 1965, which was 44 years ago and not your usual big round number for an anniversary puzzle. Robby the Robot (that's right, yes? I never watched the show and tried to avert my eyes from the movie remake when it was on cable) was wont to say "Danger, Will Robinson!"—which feeds into the other three theme answers. DANGER MOUSE is a [Toon rodent who's a secret British agent]. I get this rodent mixed up with Modest Mouse, given my near-total lack of familiarity with both of 'em. WILL YOU MARRY ME at first made this look like a proposal puzzle, but the inclusion of I TOLD YOU SO and IN REBUTTAL elsewhere in the puzzle make that seem unlikely. It's clued as [Suitor's proposal]. The third robot word begins ROBINSON CRUSOE, a [Shipwrecked literary hero].
NIHIL, or [Nothing, in Latin], seems a little high-end for a Tuesday puzzle. [Mike Nichols's comedy partner] is not his wife, news anchor Diane Sawyer, but ELAINE MAY. Two German things today: BUND is a [1930s-'40s German-American political group], and KOLN (Köln, really) is the [German name for Cologne], the city. In the U.S., a trailer park is most often a community with smaller prefab homes and not where the RV'ER hangs out. I don't feel [Trailer park resident, for short] aptly describes RVers, who tend to drive their homes across the country, not live in stationary trailer homes.
