Today’s Saturday Stumper

I found today’s Newsday Saturday Stumper, by Greg Johnson, exceedingly difficult. It was a forty-six-minute puzzle for me, with an especially difficult northwest corner. I started with 8-A, seven letters, “Preparing to steal, perhaps” and 8-D, eight letters, “Out of sight.” Some gimmes helped:

33-D, eight letters, “Battle of the Bulge forest.” In the news, but also in my head from reading about J.D. Salinger.

39-A, five letters, “Whom Aristotle mentions in ‘On the Parts of Animals.’” Ancients? animals? Easy to guess.

56-A, seven letters, “‘Daughter of the wind’ plant.” Well, I think it’s a gimme. YGMV: Your Gimmes May Vary.

Some clue-and-answer pairs I especially liked:

14-D, seven letters, “New Yorker’s hero.” Clever, and for me at least, pretty arcane lingo.

17-A, seven letters, “Press passes?” Groan.

18-A, seven letters, “     weather.” Nicely dowdy.

24-D, eleven letters, “Kid’s art supply.” I just liked seeing this supply in a puzzle.

42-A, eleven letters, “Fog machine user of yore.” I will take the constructor’s word for it.

48-D, five letters, “Inedible spreadable.” Once again a Newsday puzzle chooses concision over farfetched cuteness in a tricky clue for a common word. Bravo.

No spoilers: the answers are in the comments.

How to improve writing (no. 85)

An odd sentence from The New Yorker :

No one running for the Democratic Presidential nomination seems to irk his or her opponents quite like Pete Buttigieg, the thirty-seven-year-old mayor of South Bend, Indiana.

I understand why the writer chose “his or her”: because both men and women are running for the nomination. But Pete Buttigieg doesn’t irk “his or her” opponents. “His or her” is an unnecessary complication. It makes me think Wait, what?  Follow the logic of the syntax:

No one irks his or her opponents like Pete Buttigieg [irks his or her opponents.]

See? Better:

No one running for the Democratic Presidential nomination seems to irk opponents quite like Pete Buttigieg, the thirty-seven-year-old mayor of South Bend, Indiana.

Maybe better still:

No one running for the Democratic Presidential nomination seems to irk opponents the way Pete Buttigieg, the thirty-seven-year-old mayor of South Bend, Indiana, does.

I’m not crazy about the gap between Buttigieg’s name and “does.” It might be better still to save the identifying phrase for a later sentence:

No one running for the Democratic Presidential nomination seems to irk opponents the way Pete Buttigieg does.

All OCA “How to improve writing” posts (Pinboard)

[This post is no. 85 in a series, dedicated to improving stray bits of public prose.]

A digital timer

Many digital timers are shoddily made: flimsy buttons, crummy display, a barely audible beep. Here is a digital timer that works well: the Ozeri Kitchen and Event Timer. Solid construction, clear display, and a loud, really loud, beep. Comes in five colors. 3 3/16″ × 13/16″ × 3″. I like the idea of a gadget that can time both kitchens and events.

As they say, Makes a Great Gift.

An analog timer

If it’s sheer (or mere?) to-the-second accuracy you’re after, only a digital timer will do. But here is an analog timer that works well: the Dulton Kitchen Timer. Solid metal construction and a happy jingling alarm. Comes in nine colors (seven from that link, two more from this one), and dowdy as all get out. 2 7/8″ × 1 1/2″. The timer is reasonably accurate, to within a minute in my experience. The Dulton website identifies this item as a timer and clock, but trust me, it’s not a clock. Nor is it a thermostat.

As they say, Makes a Great Gift. Thank you, Rachel.

Fred Astaire’s shadow

We stood in a massive building owned by an old woman who had been a dentist. A delivery man brought packages. Somehow we knew that they held materials for a spiritualist practice.

We wandered the building and found a long wall against which we could make shadows. Mine looked like Fred Astaire’s. Another wall showed an illustrated timeline of spiritual leaders. What, we wondered, will happen when people find out?

Outside we found a big hole in the ground through which we could see a cave filled with old cars in storage: VW Bugs.

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All OCA dream posts (Pinboard)

“Queens man impeached”

That’s the headline from the Queens Daily Eagle, which is having fun keeping the news local:

Former Jamaica Estates resident Donald Trump was impeached Wednesday by the U.S. House of Representatives. He is the third president to be impeached in United States history — and the first from Queens.

I’m reminded of the years-ago National Lampoon parody of a small-town newspaper. On the front page, a gigantic headline: “Two Dacron Women Feared Missing in Volcanic Disaster.” And underneath, in smaller print: “Japan Destroyed.”

“We”

From last night’s Trump* rally:

“It doesn’t really feel like we’re being impeached,” the president said. “The country is doing better than ever before. We did nothing wrong. We have tremendous support in the Republican Party like we’ve never had before.”

It’s the presidential plural. Cf. “I would like you to do us a favor though.”

“The world in our conceit of it”

William Hazlitt:

All that part of the map that we do not see before us is a blank. The world in our conceit of it is not much bigger than a nutshell.

“On Going a Journey,” in Table Talk (1822).

Cf. Saul Steinberg’s View of the World from 9th Avenue.

Library fight

The Washington Post reports on the battle over “Little Free Library” — the battle, that is, over the name, a legal trademark.

Trump*

Donald Trump has been impeached, and whatever happens in the United States Senate, this president’s name will henceforth be accompanied by a stain. Or a taint. Or an asterisk. An impeachment is forever.

The asterisk is a fitting symbol to accompany the Trump* name, I’d say.