A simple comp, like one we ran two years back. As 2013 winds down, and a snoozy summer awaits, your challenge is to cook up a neat Storm idea, or something for Friday Folly. The best in each category will win a copy of Puzzles and Words 2.
So what makes a good Storm? Often an interesting clue exercise, such as making wordplay for a curious set of names, focusing on a clue style, applying a recipe twist, inventing a theme. Or maybe something non-clue, asking players to take a creative leap (make a neologism, contrive the best anagram, unearth the prime example of a rarity etc).
As for Friday Folly, this is more the shallow-end pursuit. Popular follies in the past have included failed idiom, random book titles, name tweaks, manipulated movies, edible celebs. Throw your imagination to the task, and let’s see who can conjure up the best example in both categories, giving examples where the challenge may not be fully clear.
This contest will run until Tuesday 5pm, where I’ll play sole judge and jury to announce the two picks before the crossword centenary next Saturday. PS – to keep things above board, pick two aliases (a tempestuous one for the Storm category, a zany one for the Follies), which may see you win both books! Good luck, and thanks in advance for some classy new-year ammo.
Flex your minds and peel your eyes, as there’s a brilliant book giveaway around the corner, an early Christmas present for the best future Storm idea. But before we go there, see who can unravel the knots that Araucaria had tied in his Chambers collection of puzzles.
I’ve been grappling with the master’s crosswords since the day we lost him, encountering a handful of head-scratchers, even once I know the solution. Here’s the bunch below. Your insights are highly anticipated:
- State implication of previously broken rule = UNITED KINGDOM
- Writer, French, Olympic medals missed = ZOLA
- Officer on ice = CORNET
- Bully struck with punt pole = BOTTOM
- Musteline translation of lake poet? = POLECAT
- Cold rhubarb? = RHEUM
- Australian giving ear = CORNSTALK
Care to conjure alternative clues for any of the seven?
As 2013 winds down, my word schedule keeps cranking up. This week is manic pinball with several bouts of regional radio, a pre-recorded chat with SBS News, the column, the holiday goliath grid, plus The Convo Hour with Sally Warhaft on Friday.
I’m also yakking neologism, Strine and Cluetopia with Sunil Badami, to air over summer on ABC Evenings. (And Melburnians, you’re welcome to book the Eltham Bookshop event for Monday week.)
While last week was a merry tour of Lake Macquarie (my thanks to Julie, Sue, Vince, Kylie and every other angel during that trip), capped off by Adam Spencer’s last hurrah on 702….and celebratory DA crossword. The puzzle implicated his beloved trio of Melanie, Ellie and Olivia, along with producer Lotta, and several other geeky and sporty bents. A fitting conspiracy to salute a genuine cheerleader of the cryptic arts.
This week will be raking over some confounding Araucaria clues (which I tackled while on tour), and the odd puzzle and game to keep the machinery humming. Including this conundrum I set on Twitter, with no takers: Mix 2 nations of equal length (Asian & Euro) to make 2 different nationals of equal length (again Asian & Euro)
British stuff gets toasted, and roasted, here as well. Share the best clues, or the cryptic blues, right here in the Comments. And have a verbivorous week.
EMACITY [e-MAY-si-tee] – fondness for buying things. [From Latin, emercor, to buy up, to hoard] To invoke a recent WoW, a typical kugel is prone to emacity.
Elongate the E in your first answer to sound out the second word. A lower limb union, say, is a LEG LEAGUE. While examines derriere (6,6) is solved by the title of this week’s Birdbrain.
See how many you can ‘crack’ – then add to the list, using byline and number to tag new clues. (Remember: the short E-sound is in the first answer.)
- Wave to lighthouse (6,6)
- Stab at birds (5,5)
- Hassled father (7,6)
- Fish trial (7,7)
- Manu’s folder? (5,5)
- Iron mask? (3,4)
- Cleared paddock (6,5)
- Sleazy woman? (6,6)
- Old Illawarra champ? (7,7)
- Dog usher? (6,6)
- Bombard pervert (6,6)
SOLUTION NEXT WEEK
BB439 SOLUTION: Crying, burping, winking, gooseflesh, sneezing, kissing, stomach rumbling, urinating, yawning, nail-biting, nosebleed, hiccup
Urban myth insists this is true. To hell with truth, the story is funny, and does underpin an important element of language.
So anyhow, IT boffins were trialling an electronic translator, one that could receive the user’s voice and convert the input into the target language. In the beta test, an English user was trying to switch to Russian. All was hunky dory until a piece of idiom: ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’
In a blink the gadget turned the expression into невидимый безумный (‘invisible, insane’). Not quite on the money, just as hunky dory could be rendered into сильный рыба (‘muscular fish’).
So that’s our folly this Friday, dabblers, to pass the time as I trip the countryside. (I’ll try to add my Marley-Dylan as well – or two-bob.) See who can switch an innocent slice of idiom into the finest piece of idiocy. Some more as aperitif:
Looking inside your shoes (finding your feet)
Not looking at the easel’s canvas (back to the drawing board)
Outcrop relations (shag on a rock)
Can you keep the ball rolling?
Let’s not enter into the politics – or mathematics – of the ABC salary leak. Instead, in a clue-game without ballots or prizes, I suggest we treat the list as a chance to manipulate some names. Here are eight of the upper wage-earners on Auntie’s books, in descending order. You’re invited to compose a nifty clue, minus definition, and pro bono.
Fire away. Who can best re-present these presenters?
Quiet week, on the blog at least. Since your web host is hitting the highway, first in Albury, and later Lake Macquarie, with a radio cameo in Port Jackson as the pavlova’s cherry. I’ll be talking words – the kind of thing I love – and vouching for the allure of both new titles: Cluetopia and the latest summertime pastiche, Puzzles & Words 2.
If this post appears in time, you may even have a chance to snag a copy. I’m diong the year’s last #daplay with Adam Spencer on 702 ABC, in Adam’s final week. The game is simple. Modify a movie, a song or book title by incorporating a Sydney suburb, or a town in the sweep of 702’s listeners. Conjure the title, then add a brief synopsis. For example:
500 Days of Summer Hill – 18-month lease near Marrickville
Slaughterhouse Five Dock – supplier of Leichhardt’s osso buco
For a Few Dollars – Enmore – thinking of upgrading from Petersham?
The Bourne Ultimo – Matt Damon takes on Harris Street traffic
Even if you miss the play on the radio, then add your own below, as there must be Gregory’s gems to craft. And if you like a more orthodox puzzle to prime your solving week: What well-known film can be split into the surname of two movie stars (neither of whom appears in this drama), beside a famed hunter’s anagram?
Share the best of British stuff here. Like a recent charade, which I may presage my looming week on the wallaby: Get lost in middle of massive crowd (5)
Have a wordy week, dabblers.
CULCH [rhymes with gulch] – stones and crushed shells where oyster spawn can attach to make a bed [From old French, culche, or couch] To impress your waiter, say the Coffin Bay oysters preserve notes of their limestone culch.
We respire (breathe) and expectorate (spit) every day. (And if that last truth sounds gross, then how do you clean your teeth without a good splat?)
By that anatomical logic, we regularly observe these 12 bodily functions below. As a vocab test, how many do you recognise? And can you supply the lay names to most of them?
[What other fancy terms can be clarified with lay names?]
SOLUTION NEXT WEEK
BB438 SOLUTION: Beck, Brandy, Dido, Jewel, Madonna, Meatloaf, Moby, Pink, Prince, Seal, Sting, Usher