For 25 years, I have held a long, deep-seated grudge against the New York Times crossword puzzle. It started when a family friend gifted me a daily calendar of NYT crossword puzzles because I was a “smart kid”. I don’t know what this woman had to think 7-Iyer-old would enjoy the NYT crossword – a puzzle famous for its difficulty – but no matter how much I tried, my tainted child mind was unable to solve a single clue.
Hence, I was shocked when I saw that the New York Times created a “broken crossword” AR game on Instagram.
Anyway, I’ll do anything for the blog, And everyone always shouts straightforwardly to face the trauma of their childhood. Maybe since Engadget The game noted was “too simple” for crossword aphasiondos, it would probably be at a level where I could finally be. After all Are successful. I went to the New York Times Instagram account, swiped through its stories, and found a link to this particular filter effect.
So far, so good. When you open the game, you are directed to find a flat surface. Quite easy. My apartment has a flat surface. Except it was never so clear what kind The flat surface The New York Times wanted me to use. Like, a table? My tv screen? a wall? Then I swiped through the instructions, which indicated that the crossword had a clue “Shattered.” To detect this, you must change your perspective and rotate the broken word so that it is completed once again.
This is where everything got shattered.
On my first attempt, my clue was a five-letter word for “expert pinch”. The word broken was an indiscriminate mess of yellow. Nothing amounted to pinning and twisting the screen. Just in case I am misunderstood, I started using my yoga skills, bending over and dodging my body like budding pills Matrix I hoped that doing so would change my perspective of the crossword puzzle. It did not work. Instead, my dog gave me her best look, and my husband asked, “What are you doing?” Are you alright? “
Not me Was clearly No Fine.
I argued that my first attempt was due to me choosing an insufficient flat surface. This time, I chose my TV screen instead of my desk. Huzzah! The puzzle looked a bit more, And this time, I saw clearly that the word CLAP had burst into a flock of jagged yellow sharks. I managed a bit. Why was the NYT giving Answer Me? whatever. At least I knew which word I had to become.
Except, No matter which way I rotated the word, CLAP will not appear. I lifted my arms above my head. I quipped. I blushed. I rolled I could see the ambiguous shape of the word CLAP, especially L and A. But alas, I was thwarted. I tried to switch to a different clue, except the broken word did not move.
On my third try, the crossword was so short and For unknown reasons, I could not zoom in to enlarge it. Failed The closest I got was on my fourth try, but despite standing on top of my chair with my phone above my head, I could not reveal the word Godford.
I know when I’ve been beaten, and this finicky, especially well-designed crossword didn’t make me the best. Worse, I failed to distance myself from my irrational outrage at Riddle. No. Instead, I stand here with some mild back pain, and my hatred of the New York Times crossword puzzle has never intensified.