A guide to solving cryptic crosswords: part two

Four weeks ago, I posted part one of this guide.  You might remember that I gently introduced the subject by explaining how to spot anagrams and hidden words.  You might not, because it's been a long time and you haven't been practising, even though you promised you would.  You've earned yourself a heavy dose of Inspector Remorse. 

We've only skimmed the surface so far.  You'll need a full bag of tools to tackle a cryptic crossword and I've pretty much only given you the bag so far, together with a tiny note reading 'I've borrowed all the tools, you can have them in four weeks'.  I owe you nine-tenths of an iceberg, so I'm cracking open the freezer.  Let's get started.

Flugelbert's primer
It's probably not even worth opening your newspaper without understanding this simple premise.  For each clue, you'll need to count the number of times that the letter A appears.  0-3 As means that the answer will be a noun (2 usually indicates a proper noun).  4 or 5 signifies a verb, 6 an adverb.  7 or more As and you can guarantee that you're looking for an adjective.  This should help you rule out some of your more outlandish ideas and focus your thoughts.  The name and principle of this concept commemorate Gerardus Flugelbert, a celebrated Slovak cruciverbalist who could instinctively pinpoint the correct positions of all the As throughout any crossword at a glance.

Triskaidekasymmetry 
You'll probably have noticed that crossword grids are supposed to be symmetrical.  Take that to its logical conclusion, and you'll be well on your way to solving some of the trickiest clues around.  If you can solve a clue in one half of a crossword, you should be able to work out the corresponding answer in the other half (its "triskaiflection") straight away.  How?  Simply advance each letter of the answer 13 places through the alphabet.  Whenever you get to Z, you'll need to start again at A and continue your counting - this explains triskaidekasymmetry's classification in the puzzling pantheon as a Pacmanian premise.

Se doku
Have you ever wondered why Japanese number puzzles sit so comfortably next to crosswords?  The answer is simple - the former was developed from the latter.  Se doku is one of the founding principles of the crossword puzzle. In any row or column or answer, there should not be any repeated letters.  If you think you've solved a clue but this rule is violated, you only have "an answer", not "the answer".  The name was slightly changed to avoid any copyright claims from the estate of the late Edward Powys Mathers and Derrick Somerset Macnutt.  Cruciverbalists often joke at conventions that the corruption to su doku has violated the very rule which inspired the puzzle!

Alphascrabbling 
After reading about se doku, you'll appreciate that mind game developers rank among the world's worst plagiarists.  The aforementioned inventors of the cryptic crossword - hallowed be their names - are just as guilty.  A giant leap towards solving any clue can be taken by assigning each letter in the clue a corresponding integer value between 1 and 26.  Adding these integers will give you a "total", and the square root of this "total" tells you the scrabble value of the answer.  You must assume that the word is not placed on any double or triple word or letter spaces, unless the trigger words "biscuit" or "chaise-longue" appear in the clue.

Hit parade 
Crossword setters in the 1950s noted the introduction of the singles chart with a rather cynical interest, and quickly realised (being an iconoclastic bunch of godless evolutionists) that they would need to adapt to survive.  All the answers taken together must include the song and artist name of the number one single from the corresponding week 16 years ago.  Originally the number 4 was chosen, but this was increased to 16 by the Geneva Convention.  This provoked far more debate than the more famous rules for treatment of wartime prisoners, which were only whacked together in a frenzy of displacement activity sparked by a particularly tricky 17 across.  Hardcore solvers maintain that the answers must also include the album and label names and at least 16% of the words used in the liner notes.

Sensorationalism
Crosswords are often printed on special paper.  Several trigger words might prompt you to realise that the answer to a clue is already imprinted in barely perceptible Braille - examples are "sight unseen", "dotty" and "red".  The same applies if there are no Is anywhere in the clue.  Running one's hands across the grid before tackling the clues is known is "fumbling", and is frowned upon - accusations of fumbling have marred many international tournaments and ruined promising careers.  Similarly, if the letters of the phrase "inky nostrils" appear anywhere in a clue - in any order - you will need to rub your finger across the corresponding answer spaces and sniff.  Be very careful not to stray into any neighbouring spaces, as these are often infused with powerful and deeply unpleasant scents designed to lead you astray.  Cruciverbalists with wandering hands frequently suffer crippling bouts of anosmia.

Armed with these tools, you should have any crossword puzzle wrapped around your little finger!  But not literally, because the clues will be illegible, you won't be able to fill in the answers and your finger will get covered in ink.

Kinetica Art Fair 2011

Kinetica is the equivalent of the Royal Academy's summer exhibition, but for younger people who don't like wading through 173 still lifes of vegetables and lumpy pots.  Tucked away surreptitiously in a warehouse space opposite Baker Street tube station, I hadn't heard of it until Twitter celebrity @squeezeomatic alerted me to its existence.  Four things prompted me to pop along: her photos, my boredom, the 205 bus route and my misapprehension that it was free. 

To quote from their website, the fair provides a platform for artists who "focus on universal concepts and evolutionary processes though the convergence of kinetic, electronic, robotic, sound, light, time-based and multi-disciplinary new media art, science and technology".  In other words, does it go bleep bleep, whirr whirr or flash bright colours at people?  If you said yes, you're in.  Here's a quick sample of some of my favourite exhibits that made the cut.

If you're so inclined, you can see the rest of my photos here.

The fair ended on Sunday and I assume everything has been sold.  Hopefully it'll be back in 2012 with more robot dogs, wind-up mermaids and neon heads than you can shake a flux capacitor at.

Valentine's Day: What not to do

Handy hints for those of you who only feel compelled to express your feelings as and when the greetings card industry dictates that you must 

Don't get a scuba diver to propose at the London Aquarium 
How is this supposed to work?  'Ahem… look over there darling, it's a beautiful and conveniently placed shoal of fish.  Oh wait, what's that strange man doing swimming around in the tank?  No, don't call security, let him get a bit closer.  Closer… there!  Look at that tacky sign with the heartfelt clip-art.  He wants you to marry me!  What do you mean you never want to see me again?'  It ticks all the boxes really.   Getting someone else to propose for you because you're an emotionless and cowardly icicle?  Tick!  Embarrassing the person you love most at a mediocre tourist attraction (I've set up better aquaria in my living room, without even the assistance of flooding or Endless Ocean)?  Tick!  Finding an unnecessarily expensive way to obliterate your long-term relationship?  Tick!  And there you have it.  If your partner is waiting for you to pop the question and you want out, this could be the perfect escape route.  It looks like you tried, there's absolutely no risk of them saying yes, and it'll make a brilliant anecdote. 

Don't buy them a compilation of cheesy love songs
Giving someone The Greatest Valentine's Day Album… Ever! (note: other titles are available) doesn't say 'I love you'.  It says 'I can't be bothered to show or tell you how I feel, so here are some songs written by people who aren't me about people who aren't you selected by people who aren't either of us'.  It says 'I was desperately trawling high-street chain stores at the last minute and this had some hearts on it'.  It's a cop-out. It's not even an afterthought, it's an instead-of-thought.  If your heart is set on giving music, you'd better sit down at the piano or make your own mixtape.  Even then, it had better be part of something bigger.

Don't go and watch Blue Valentine 
It does say Valentine in the title, so I can imagine research-intolerant people making this mistake.  Don't do it.  You'll either find it harrowing and sad, or (like me) wonder why on earth it's received so much praise.  I have no complaints about the central performances (though any nominations are based more on percentage screen time than wonderful acting), but the characters are thoroughly unlikeable and the ending inevitable.  Either way, the last thing you'll feel coming out of the cinema is romantic.  Possibly depressed, probably disappointed, certainly poorer: or, to put it another way, like you've just broken up.  The satisfaction of recognising Rawls from The Wire might not be enough to rescue your evening.

Don't spend all your money on a guided tour of the Freud Museum 
I quite fancy a trip to the Freud Museum, but not like this.  Not an intimate guided tour for two surrounded by the paraphernalia of questioning your desires.  Not for £125, no matter how many Freudian gifts they might slip into the promised (and worryingly vague) "goody bag".  And certainly not for the extra prosecco and mouth-ticklers you'd get on a £150 deluxe tour.  'Happy Valentine's Day, darling.  But why are we REALLY here?'  This is no time to present your true love with an intense voyage of self-discovery and a chocolate phallus.

The kigu, the secret

(Title by kind indifference of Urban Cookie Collective)

Kigus are animal costumes inspired by Japanese kigurumi, performers who dress as cuddly toys.  They're fuzzy onesies with hoods and tails.  They're also machine washable, and perfect for every occasion.  I have the dinosaur.

I've spent quite a bit of time trying and failing to work out what kind of dinosaur I am.  I mean, it is. Obviously.  Ahem.  I suppose the hood is disproportionately large compared to the head - does that make it a pachycephalosaurus?  It has little spikes down the back, so it could be a stegosaurus.  Then again, those genera are both herbivores: what would they do with the pointy teeth?  I'd hate to live in a world where people didn't worry about these things.  Classify me?

I've worn my kigu to restaurants, pubs, birthday parties and burlesque Hallowe'en balls.  I've lazed around in it, I've washed the dishes in it, I've danced in it and I've even written the first 163 words of a blog post in it.  Have I learned anything from these experiences?  No, with the possible exception of finding out exactly how much drunk people like furry dinosaurs.  It's like being a dinosaur in nymphoid barbarian hell.  Seriously, it's just fun to wear.  There's nothing you can't improve by doing it dressed as a dinosaur.  It even comes with its own theme song.

Finally acquiring a tail without having to wait for those genetic science dullards to catch up (STILL trying to cure cancer?!) has changed my life for the better.  I think I must be ahead of the dinosaur curve: I've already considered evolving into a bird kigu.  I might be there already if my girlfriend hadn't sneakily bought herself the penguin.

I remember when dressing up was just dressing up.  Cosplay ('costume play') and yiffing ('please don't ever ask') hadn't been invented by the furry fandom ('oh good lord people actually call themselves that').   Instead of googling those terrifying terms, just do yourself a favour and spend £40 on your very own kigu.  But make sure you only use your formidable new powers for good.

Why you (yes, you) should watch the Superbowl tonight

It's really good and there will be men running about doing clever things with a ball and stuff

I've only rediscovered my interest in American football this season - it's been dormant since Gary Imlach's 'Blitz' disappeared from Channel 4 in the early 90s.  Like most rugby union and association football fans, an assumption that it was a stop-start game of padded mercenaries running into each other had lodged itself in my mind.  One early-season game on Sky was all it took to get me hooked again.

People say the players are overpaid.  That's true, but (unlike the Premier League) it doesn't skew the championship in favour of big spenders - for two reasons.  First, there's a salary cap.  Second, the top college players are picked by the teams in an annual draft in a sequence which depends on their performance in previous seasons.  The worse you did last year, the sooner you get to pick this time. Every team has star players.  Every team starts the year with a realistic chance of winning the championship.

People say American football teams move thousands of miles to follow money, making the MK Dons story look like a fairytale.  That's true (take a bow, St Louis Rams), but it happens very rarely.  Most teams are long-established and have stayed put - this year's finalists were both founded between the wars. 

People say the players are cosseted and wrapped in cotton wool.  It's true that they wear a lot of padding, but a quick glance at the injury lists will confirm that games are still intensely competitive - perhaps the padding gives the players more scope to commit to tackles and runs.  You won't find much diving here.

People say there's too much time where nothing is happening.  It's true, each match lasts about three hours for only 60 minutes of play.  But that doesn't make it boring.  Unlike other sports, every possession means something, even if no points are immediately scored.  Will the team with the ball be able to advance 10 yards up the field for a first down?  Will the defence be able to plot an interception or force a fumble to recover possession?  Each play is a fast-moving quick-thinking game of chess - one team's defensive coordinator pitched against the opposing team's offensive coordinator, deciding whether to run or throw, blitz or cover every receiver, drop back for extra passing time or stand and deliver.  The additional time outs teams can take just provide more scope for tactical manoeuvring.  Even if you disagree, the gaps in play provide more time to discuss the game and have a pint with your friends.

Tonight's season-ending showpiece pits the Green Bay Packers against the Pittsburgh Steelers - two of the most successful teams in the history of the sport.  Green Bay (a tiny town in Wisconsin) makes the cheese; Pittsburgh makes the implements to cut it with. Yes, it's the rather appetising Cheese Knife Derby.  Well, it would be if I had my way.  Both teams have great quarterbacks and aggressive defences - they'll be playing very hard and leaving everything on the field.  It's being played in the most advanced stadium in the world in front of 100,000 noisy fans, many of whom will be wearing wedges of cheese on their heads.  Billions will be watching around the world.

Get some beers, pick a team to support, switch to BBC or Sky Sports 1 and enjoy the fun.  I'm predicting a 31-20 win for the Packers.  Bring it on!

Just the one Sunday morning puzzle

I was planning to post another pair of puzzles today.  I was.  Then I rediscovered one of my favourites and stopped looking.

PuzzleDonkey was a brilliant site that ran for quite a few years - it shut up shop in 2006 and recently reappeared as a Facebook app (which might now also have bitten the dust).  The fiendish premise was that you had to solve each puzzle to access the next.  As I recall, there were three sets of 100 puzzles each to work your way through.  No entry fees and no prizes, just satisfaction and plenty of people on hand with helpful hints (but never spoilers).  Obsessive CS Lewis fans (I guess someone has to do it) will probably appreciate the name.

This puzzle is called 'Whendunnit?', and I think it appeared in the third set.  Get ready for some detective work.

"Tell me again how you spent the night of the murder," said Inspector Pereira.  Irving shook his head in protest.

"I tells you, there's nuthin' you don't know!  I spent the morning here at home, fixin' the stairs.  Then I took Maggie out to lunch.  It was her birthday last month, and we didn't do nothin' at the time, so I thought I'd give her a treat."

"And then you came home?"

"Sure we did.  I wanted to take her shopping, but she pointed out there were a lot of jobs to do at home.  She's real practical like that - a typical Capricorn, you know?  Then in the evenin' I watched the tube and Maggie read her book.  Watership Down or somethin' like that.  Yeah, we were here for the rest of the day.  Leastways, 'til twenty before two in the morning."

"What happened then?"

"The puppy escapes, don't it.  So here's me, chasin' it down the street like a mug.  All the way to Huffman Mill and across Huffman Bridge.  Took me an age to catch the little feller."

"And then you came home again?"

"Yeah, dat's right.  I came home, to find Maggie lyin' dead. I looks up at the clock - says it's nearly four o'clock, but that don't seem right, since I thinks I've only been gone an hour or so... but, but, I dunno... I was in shock, ya know?"

Inspector Pereira did know.  What he didn't know, unfortunately, was who killed Maggie.  But at least he knew the date of her death - that was a good start.

I bet you do too.

Top 10: Songs about libraries

What are libraries for?  Free access to information and escapism for everyone, regardless of means or background.  But since I live in a country where that doesn't matter any more, I'm hoping that some obscure lyrical references might tip the balance back in their favour.

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Young Adult Friction 
Taken from my favourite album of 2009 - an award inexplicably missing from their Wikipedia page - this song is about library sex.  Which, when you think about it, makes perfect sense.  Power is an aphrodisiac.  Knowledge is power.  Libraries house knowledge.  Students hang out in libraries.  Students sometimes have sex with each other.  I may have taken this several steps too far.  Anyway, take all that and add a gentle dusting of easy book puns and you've grabbed (and held) my attention.

Hefner - The Librarian 
A selfish and stupid daydream about seducing a librarian by borrowing impressive books somehow sounds exquisite.  Was it really the inspiration for She's All That?  I guess we'll never know for sure.

Camera Obscura - French Navy 
It's almost impossible to criticise this perfect song, but I'm going to: it doesn't belong on this list.  There, I said it.  Tracyanne Campbell is sitting around in a library waiting for inspiration, when someone great suddenly turns up and makes everything better.  What was so bad about the library, Tracyanne?  What did you need rescuing from?  And why did you throw in a defensive reference to your decision to let Tesco use one of your other songs?

The Magnetic Fields - Swinging London 
Short and sweet, like so many of the best Magnetic Fields songs.  Just like French Navy, the library is the start of something: this time, it's the high water mark, recalled with affection.  If (like me) you enjoy/can't seem to stop poring over lyrics, you could probably waste hours contemplating the possessive reference to "your library".  Bookworms don't just have local pubs.

Of Montreal - In The Army Kid 
Another song about women and libraries.  Half-hearted lyrics and very little to say.  Why did I include this?  Ah yes, because there aren't many songs about libraries.  Carry on.  Nothing to see here.  Certainly nothing to waste much of your precious time listening to.

MC Poindexter and the Study Crew - Library Rap 
"Get out of my face while I'm readin' my Keats!"  I'd forgotten all about this.  10,000 super-duper special bonus points to YouTube for the assist.

Cursor Miner - Library 
"The library, the library / It's a place where books are free! / The library, the library / Librarians are often sexy".  If anyone has cash or desire to invest in a promotional campaign, this should be its infuriatingly catchy soundtrack.  I refuse to use the "word" 'earworm' on principle.  Perhaps there's a public institution somewhere out there that could help me find a better alternative?  Not for long.

The Low Anthem - To The Ghosts Who Write History Books 
This song is a very helpful set of instructions handed out by its amanuensis protagonist to a gaggle of literary ghosts doing their research in a library.  Or is it?  You probably won't listen to it, so I can and will claim whatever I want to crowbar it into this list. 

E - Manchester Girl 
I have nothing positive to associate with Manchester except for this song, which must have been written by someone who had never been there.  Perhaps there's another Manchester in California, jam-packed with desirable bookish introverts.  I want that one.

Manic Street Preachers - A Design For Life 
"Libraries gave us power / Then work came and made us free".  Someone must have whispered this in Gideon Osborne's ear around the cabinet table at decision time.  He hasn't eaten since.

PS Only nine of these songs are available on Spotify, so I've thrown in Enjoy Your Worries, You May Never Have Them Again by The Books.  That's THE BOOKS.  Like what libraries have in them.  Enjoy!