When I make a paper crane for my kids, they think it's incredible. A magic trick. A disruption of the laws of physics.
When I make a paper crane for any adult, they give me a look of pity and openly wonder whether euthanasia would be the kind option.
For the crane, not me!
Okay, me too.
Quip puzzles are like this. First time you do a quip puzzle, it's entertaining. A crossword that has a sense of humor, zinging me with a witty one-liner? Yes, please!
The next 6,723 times, not so much.
Today's is a decent quip, although the creases aren't sharp and the folds slightly off-kilter. If you asked a comedian to write a one-liner using FOLDED and INCREASING, he/she might come up with "I heard the origami club folded, but interest in it is increasing." Now that's pretty good!
So what's with the "we" start? This is a pairs-comedian act? And "in fact"? What kind of comedian says "in fact"? (Okay, fine, Jerry Seinfeld, among dozens of others.) Why all the weirdisms?
Crucivera (the god of crossword symmetry) is a cruel mistress.
The good thing is that Pete is a professional, knowing that if you're going to make a standard quip puzzle, the rest of the puzzle needs to dang well be smoother and snazzier than usual, so people who hate quip puzzles have something to do.
- Smooth? Pretty much, with only minor offenders: DIAS ICI SEN STN. (LENI might be tough, but she's crossworthy.)
- Snazzy? DEATH STAR, ELECTRONS, HEAD GAME, REPLAY and INCUBI. I'll take it.
And TACOS, something people make a stand for. Heh, good one.
Quip puzzles are tough. You have to make them absolutely perfect, or perhaps branch out from standard cranes, folding a shape no one's ever seen before — a Schrodinger element helped a previous one stand out, for example. Even if it's not perfect, it'll certainly be different.