Foster

Reading the number of comments of complaint regarding POETRIES, which is in the OED, I'm reminded of my first wife (whom we lost to cancer, alas). She spoke only French until she was twelve, but built fluency watching TV in her teens. Nevertheless, she would regularly mess up on plurals. (You will notice that Jaques Pèpin has similar difficulties.) Her most endearing misprision was calling her lingerie her "underwears"

Kareem! Where do you guys come up with these gimmicks? Somewhere among the stars, it would seem. Thanks for this wild ride through the space-time continuum. The nod to Professor Sagan is a thoughtful touch. Well done, puzzle team, as ever.

Of all the curious means the puzzle team employs to keep us coming back, outside of providing compelling content, is any more effective than the streak notification? Not counting the 30 years prior solving daily on paper, today the online streak hit 500. Whoop-dee-doo. Is that an achievement or an indication of something other? Anyhow, thanks for the fun.

On another note, though I have been skiing for 61 of my 66 years, and was briefly on the US Olympic Ski Team, the only place I have seen a t-bar in the last several decades is in the NY Times crossword. They were frightening when I was little. Any difference in size or weight between the two passengers immediately led to imbalance and loss of purchase. My father was 180 pounds, and I was, what...50? I did a face plant nearly every time when trying to get on during the first season. Fortunately, though my father was a very determined person, he was also very patient with his many, many children. I eventually got the knack, and then they were gone....

Struggled a bit for the obvious reasons, but any puzzle that includes WENTKABOOM gets an extra five points for sheer panache. You people are great, which bears repeating, any day of the week. So glad to have Sam as part of the team. Thanks so much for the FUN.

Golly, but wasn't that a jolly romp? Very well done and thanks to the puzzle team for the fun. How you do it day after day so sparklingly well is in itself a puzzle. On a completely different note, I must make mention of this because my mind is still glowing from the magnificent performance we heard last night in St. Paul of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" by Vikingur Òlafsson. Essentially note perfect (and I had the score in my lap), but beyond the technical prowess on stunning display was the psychological and emotional penetration of his performance that sets him apart as a musician of rare ability and genius. On a par with Gould. Plus, he's a kind, outgoing person who treated us afterward with deference and charm. What a gift! I cannot recall a performance of any kind as thoroughly, tremendously moving on both an intellectual and emotional scale. He's playing it again this morning and I've taken the morning off to attend one more time.

I puzzled and puzzled over Jörmungandr: world serpent, ouroboros, Loki's child? Once the haze lifted, it all opened like a flower, allowing a BRAVE (a great favorite among us fans of scaffy witches) march forward through the charmingly clever clues. Thanks for the fun!

Golly, that was cute, replete with pimento upon completion. ONTILT and TOEPOKE were revelatory, but even more surprising was the notion of quietude in association with martinis. Having grown up in a family with some heavy drinkers, I have more often seen boisterous and sometimes belligerent behavior associated with this particular elixer. My maternal grandfather is reported to have said, "Martinis are like women's breasts: one is not enough; three are too many; two are just right." And then there's the classic, One martini Two martini Three martini Floor Approach with caution. ;-]

This could just as easily be called the age of mosquitoes, alas. The other day, I was at Ravinia, the Chicago Symphony's summer playground (bless that wonderful gang) when Pavarotti was headliner. As he began, he coughed and choked. All came to halt. Every breath held. After a moment, Luciano announced, "I bite A mos-kweet-oh," after which the dear man knocked "Nessun dorma" out of the park. No one slept that night, not without a deep smile.

Hokey smoke, Bullwinkle! With the wit and humor present in nearly aspect of Hal's little gem, in the construction, clues, concept, et. al., I enjoyed every moment of the morning's ascent. Thanks very much for this complete delight. It helps to simultaneously listen to Magdalena Kozena sing Monteverdi's "Zefiro torna" to brighten each of those moments. This promises to be a great day.

Ta-da! The streak hit 600 days this morning (not counting the approximately 12,000 done on paper in prior years, sometimes at my father's consternation when I took his paper without permission in early days). An appropriately sunny summer day.

Golly! Like Helen, Mack, John, etc. before me, I found the misleading clues particularly daunting today, which is to say, "Well done!" However, I have only ever associated HOSER with Canada, as noted by others (the clue for CINDERELLA was especially demonic), but we were saved by the wee pup BB's recognition of DOGIES and the PFA of TORABORA. BB provides a timid ARF, as she DARED the puzzle, but was somewhat abashed by its complexity. It took her and her human nearly half an hour to finish, and she does grow impatient, as her treat pends the completion. Thanks to the team for another job well done and full of fun, even in the absence of the august Mr. Shortz, to whom BB and I wish a swift and full recovery.

The best kind of puzzle must be amusing, cleverly constructed, and have a representative from the animal kingdom for whom the wee pup BB feels an affinity. Today's installment meets all three requirements neatly, meriting a full-throated ARF! from our merry girl. And, of course: The one-L lama, he's a priest. The two-L llama, he's a beast. But I would bet a silk pajama There isn't any three-L lllama. On a side note, I don't get the "slippery" elm business. What's that about, anyone?

Remember this one: It's a bird. It's a plane. It's a frog! It's not a frog. It's Underdog! (His girl was named Polly Purebread, and he confronted an evil nemesis named Riff Raff. His alter ego was Shoeshine Boy, plain and loveable.) Who thinks up this stuff? A lot of made-up stuff today, which I suppose is what Deb means by "fresh." Heigh ho. Still a rigorous challenge. Thanks, as always.

The wee pup BB, who misses deeply her human's daughter currently residing near Lake Tahoe, gives two vigorous ARFs for this puzzle, providing both intellectual challenge and humor in equal measure, which is the best kind of puzzle. Well done and thanks for the fun. (We needn't get into a discussion about whether tautology is equivalent to redundancy, as that would spoil the fun.) I'm sure that many of us remember the spelling song featuring the Great River ("It used to be so hard to spell, it used to make me cry."), also those funny old cartoons that were sing-alongs with the instructions, "just follow the bouncing ball!" No way to forget anything with that sort of cementing of memory.

Solverati, indeed. Can we use that term without citation, Deb? BB the wee pup adds ARF, since she especially enjoyed this party with Sam's Wise Men. Nice trick without having to use the Rebus key. When my son was in utero, he was known as Hermes, the traveler between two worlds, Mercury, Quicksilver, Hg 80 (weirdly one more than Au 79, gold), god of letters, as well as medicine, merchants, thieves, crossroads, and other wildly disparate things; the planet tide-locked to the sun with one face baked to a crisp while the other shivers in eternal darkness. Whew!!! Thanks to the Magi on the puzzle team for all the fun.

Very charming notes on the construction, which made the puzzling experience all the more enjoyable. The wee pup BB is grateful that you did not include a visit to the vet, as she does not prefer those appointments. "ARF," she says, in thanks for the fun. You may already know that ARF is an acronym for Animal Rescue Foundation, a lovely group of very kind people who care for stray animals, founded by Elaine and Tony La Russa forty years ago in Walnut Creek, CA. It was my privilege to help them develop their headquarters. XOXO

Deb, the wee pup BB notes with an ARF that all sports make up the rules as play proceeds, e.g. The NFL, MLB, Olympics, FIFA, etc., whose Byzantine rules she can't begin to follow, as she is far too busy marshalling the backyard squirrels. She also notes with pleasure the particularly clever clues in today's puzzle, which must have occasioned many EVIL LAUGHS among the puzzle team. Well done, and... Thanks for the fun.

The wee furry beastie BB notes with an ARF of delight (and some egotism) that the RCA logo was, for many years, a pup almost as adorable as she: small terrier, head cocked, drawn to "His Master's Voice" emerging from the gramophone's horn. Her human agrees that today's is a fine puzzle. The Hamlet "handsaw" is often recognized and played as a synechdoche: the cockscomb of a rooster and thereby a euphemism for the cuckoldry of Hamlet's father. (Caution! Only when the wind is in the west.) I've never run across the heron thing outside the OED, but then, these are still early days. I'll check my RSC edition of the combined works (very highly recommended for its erudition; not horribly expensive) and report back. Thanks for the fun, my NYT friends.

Golly. What a wild blend of concatenated varieties! Well done, all, and thanks for the fun.

Just one more quick observation: my children and I agree that the first thirty minutes of Wall-E is as fine a piece as Pixar or Disney has produced. Its combination of humor and pathos is at least on a par with any of Chaplin's best. Needless to say, we are huge fans, but none of us has ever come across the quoted trailer line. Sets me head a-scratchin'. Also, prompted by the recent TV series release, I just reread "A Gentleman in Moscow" and again consider it one of the most enjoyable reads in years and years. I consume very little fiction these days (as I'm stuck on puzzles such as Mahler, determinism, and The Reformation), but I feel sure that most chat participants will find the novel as highly agreeable as I have. (The series so far? A pale imitation, but a brave attempt.)

"You are not THE Dorothy Gale of Kansas?" mocks The Nome King in the wildly entertaining sequel to our great cinematic treasure. After all, "what puts the APE in apricot?" The three intrepid heroes cited would certainly know (as would Sam, clever as always). Beautifully done on every level. My highest encomium to Rebecca and the puzzle team for this gem, and thanks so much for the fun. We are fortunate to have you provide these daily delights.

John Ezra's contribution this morning is, as always, a very bright addition, or to be exact, several bright additions to the discussion. My dear friend and quondam chess opponent was chairman of the U of M's French and Italian Department for many years. He adamantly refuses to read any literature in translation, maintaining that such is an implacable distortion of the original. While denying himself "War and Peace" e.g., the validity of his point is clearly demonstrated by the wildly variant versions JE has generously provided us: dark, smudged, faintly-mirrored murmurs of Baudelaire. Lots better than nuthin', though, one could easily argue. My last golf outing, despite years of diligent practice, resulted in the wedge busted over my knee and the rest of the clubs tossed into the adjacent water hazard. Is it any wonder then that the wee pup BB has never heard the term "double albatross?" "ARF," she cried, in wonderment. Thanks for the fun, and a very fine puzzle.

Nice work, and I especially enjoyed the original clue for the goofy song. As you may recall A one-L lama, he's a priest. A two-L llama, he's a beast. But I would bet a silk pajama There isn't any three-L lllama.

Impressive shenanigans throughout with today's labyrinthine clues. My encomium for a very enjoyable taste of haute énigme, mes amis. Well done all, as per usual. The wee pup BB fell silent in admiration.

The association of something as charming as a pencil box with a blight such as the POX troubles my mind ("A pox upon all thy houses!"). And while it took a moment to equate KISMET with one of the scores of definitions for "lot," I thoroughly enjoyed this playful, clever puzzle. (Are there really pom-poms on a beanie?) One must often inhabit the medieval mind to solve quandaries, particularly in recent election years. Perhaps most enjoyable was Sam's inclusion in her comments of the pictured Georgia cheerleaders, whose several pretty faces evinced everything on a range from from ecstasy to terror, along with several intervening stages: a tiny version of one's daily life. Well done, all. How you consistently crank out such a fine product on a daily basis is a source of ongoing puzzlement. Hah! Thanks.

The wee pup BB offers a ringing ARF! for today's debut. (She is offended at the notion that she yips.) She also is puzzled by the vast number of humans, particularly among the youth, who still believe in irrational notions such as astrology. "Aren't we the inheritors of The Enlightenment?" she queries with head cocked at the perfect 45° angle for a candid canid question. Her human can only shrug in blank dismay. (She doesn't intend to be impudent, but BB holds Benedictus de Spinoza in high regard.)

Apparently I am alone in my opinion, but: Sorry. No. Too much stinkin' work. I love a good challenge, but this hard without the sparkle needed for a half an hour solve? I appreciate the effort, but...NEXT!

A cute puzzle, but I laughed aloud at the clue for Medusa. Few now read Ovidius Naso, though he tells of Medusa's violation by Poseidon in the temple of Athena. As so often occurred in those myths, the violator goes unpunished while the violated is cursed. Medusa was originally a beautiful maiden, but Athena punishes her for the rape in the temple by turning her into a Gorgon. The redoubled violation seems a bit unfair. Best not to get into how her mirrored image somehow did not have the same astonishing effect as looking at her directly, as it makes no sense, whatever agency might have been involved. The willing suspension of disbelief, and all that. A troublingly tragic tale, when you think about it.

The other day the clue was "character with a memorable opening line" and here it is: Sesame St. Nice combination of cleverness and fun, as per usual. There I was with my philosophy B.A. and Comp Lit doctorate, trying to figure out how to make some DOUGH, sitting in Microeconomics on the first day of my MBA at Cal, when our prof explained the Sunk Cost Fallacy. "DOH," I said with a slap to the forehead, and realized that I was beginning to emerge from the Belly of the Beast, along with a fairly strong handle on James Joyce, Aquinas, Chaucer, Baudelaire, Euclid, etc. I had little idea at the time about what a lucky fella I was. Phew!

The wee pup BB gives a fruity ARF for this puzzle as it cites not only her favorite TV channel, but also two of her favorite movie heroes, Bambi and Clarence Oddbody, AS2. Her human enjoyed the clever, elusive clues throughout. Happily tricky for a Tuesday. Well done, all. Thanks for the fun. As always, excellent entertainment value.

Slick as a sidewalk in Truckee without spikes on your boots. The wee pup BB skates off with an ARF, sliding away in a Dopplerian red cadence. The other problem with Venmo is that it puts money into the pockets of those who are troublesome for our society. The new Spinoza biography has gained attention from the popular media, astonishingly. That brave genius at the heart of The Enlightenment put it simply: those of us in this intellectual class serve well when we promote justice, loving-kindness, and education shared across the generations. He was not named Benedict (Baruch) for nothing.

Golly! What a fine puzzle. Very well done, indeed. My highest encomium to you, and thanks for the fun.

A puzzle very like the confluence of precision and the ineffable that one finds in the "wonder"ful poetry of Wallace Stevens. One could have one's spouse whip up concupiscent curds, while, with big cigar in hand, one rules as Emperor of Ice Cream (<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45234/the-emperor-of-ice-cream" target="_blank">https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45234/the-emperor-of-ice-cream</a>). Better still, bathe in the gift of mere being under the palm at the edge of space and time (<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57671/of-mere-being" target="_blank">https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57671/of-mere-being</a>). Or, simply contemplate the cunning blackbird's eye. It's cool stuff, man. Thanks as ever for the fun, and Happy Birthday!

The wee pup BB gave an ARF of joy when she saw that her human had just hit 400 on his recent streak, but then turned to said human and with head cocked asked, "Man, what have you been doing with all your time?" Her human responded with a, "Hush," as he was listening to the incomparable Sarah Mohr-Pietsch on The Beeb's classical station, BBC3. (www.bbc.co.uk/radio3) Fine puzzle, all. Thanks for the fun these many years! And yes, for all those who suspected but weren't sure, the wee pup BB is named after Captain Kangaroo's enormous English sheepdog of the same name. Wee pup and human were big fans. (Presently, of The Beeb, too.)

The wee pup BB, whose birthplace is San FranCISCO, joins Arjun in noting that BART runs not along the Embarcadero (a drive under the Bay Bridge and adjoining the glorious Golden Gate, much loved by little dogs and their humans alike) but under it. "Why don't they just ask me?" she ARFs, as she knows all, or so pretends. Natheless, as Chaucer once said, her human enjoyed today's clever clues, though both cocked their heads in dismay at HATEWATCH, a phrase neither to be used or pursued in practice. That way madness lies. Thanks for the fun.

In full agreement with Helen, the wee pup BB sings out a full-throated ARF, and not just because so many of her fellow earthlings are represented. Though the clues were mostly straightforward, several had the sort of clever twist that plants a question mark on the top of her cocked head, and a chortle in her human's belly: Xs and O's; Miss Piggy's self reflection; wild couples a-cruising, etc. A pleasure, and thanks for the fun. Also, congratulations and best wishes to Sam on her first anniversary, whom the wee pup considers a mighty fine addition to the team. ARF!

Sam surely knows that "like" is a preposition and "as" is a conjunction. Hence, the often goofed-up phrase "like I said" should be "as I said." Why, you may well ask? So that the GRE, GMAT, LSAT, and even the ACT/SAT tests can ding you for an easily-overlooked syntactical error. Here's a simple tell tale: if there's a verb to the right of the conjunction, "as" is called for. All seniors take note.

Golly! That was stinkin' clever and highly enjoyable. High five! ;-] Well done, and thanks for the fun, Puzzle Team. How you come up with goods on a daily basis is a wonder. Is that why you get paid the big bucks?

The wee pup BB has no preference for long johns, furry little beast that she is, except for her human (silk is best by far when skiing, outside of the coldest weather), but provides a bright ARF for this slick, tricky puzzle in thanks for the fun.

After hunting down all the empty holes, and lacking opposable thumbs necessary for managing the mallet, the wee pup BB gives off a panting ARF to the puzzle team for this fun, silly, clever offering. And even though the citation is spurious, any mention of Milne, BB's favorite author, gets an extra cock of the head from her furry beastliness.

As bright and fresh as the thrilling afternoon I spent iceboating on Lake Geneva some years ago with my old friend Tony. (Too scary for the wee pup BB, even though she loves the wind in her face.) Well done. Thanks for the fun.

Like Sarah C., I too laughed aloud when I understood the theme. The wee pup BB leapt into the air with a bright ARF in agreement, as the clueing was also exceptionally subtle and clever: the best kind of puzzle must be both smart and fun, and the team has scored a full ARF in both categories. Thanks for a jolly beginning to the day. On another note, a special form of torture is to hold presidential elections in leap years so that we must be subjected to the folderol for yet another day. Egad! At least we got a silvery dusting of snow last night, for which thanks to the crystal elves.

The wee pup BB gives two firmly-applied ARFs for this finely-crafted, amusing puzzle. One ARF for the clues (FROG TRANSFORMER had her human laughing aloud, e.g.), and a second ARF for the subtle nature of the structure, which happens to include my ol' pal Kierkegaard (subject of my senior thesis). BTW, in the Grimm's original, the princess doesn't kiss the frog, but rather, in disgust, throws him with all her might against the wall, which still leads to the desired effect, happily. (Miyazaki would have handled it perfectly.)