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My poem for today:
Cross Words
No more crosswords
accessory of the aristocracy
that rewards the trivial
honors those who remember the irrelevant
rebukes you if you focus instead
on friends, family, or the color of the sky
No more crosswords
no more glorification of famous facts
famous people
famous anything at all
You only need to know one actor
and that is Sidney Poitier
You only need to know one element
and that is carbon
You do not need to know any presidents
fashion designers
or seven-letter appliance manufacturers that begin with H
Recall instead the birthday of your best friend’s child
at least recall she had a child
She remembers—sixteen hours
stretched over two days
perhaps her child had two birthdays
nine across, seven down
there were complications
and Katherine Hepburn starred in African Queen
No more crosswords
they will fill the spaces with something else
Wordle. Reprints of Calvin and Hobbes.
But I would prefer a detachable blank page
you could use to write a poem
to a colleague at a crossroads
yourself
a tree
your dog
No more crosswords
they are the Internet
are a lie
are the end of the magazine
where a smiling woman with a cigarette
embraces a name brand cola
and tries to convince you it was all worth it
every letter in every box
I asked AI:
“AI, please write a short humorous free verse poem about how wonderful crossword puzzles are. Please incorporate the language of crossword puzzles into your poem, use metaphors, and use specific examples of crossword puzzle answers.”
The AI’s response (I selected the best couplets, it was very long):
Ode to the Grid: A Crossword Puzzle's Charm
In the realm of squares both black and white,
A land where "EPEE" might battle "ORC" in the dead of night,
there, "OREO" is not just a cookie to devour,
But a friend we meet in our puzzle-solving hour.
"IRA" is not just a name but savings so grand,
And "ERNIE" bickers with "BERT" in a far-off land.
In this realm, "PIZZA" could be a triangular delight,
Or a slice of answers filled in just right.
Where "QUIRK" is not odd but fits just fine,
And "ZENITH" is reached, oh the thrill, the divine!
Crossword puzzles, a mosaic of the mind,
A tapestry of trivia, definitions intertwined.
A jigsaw of jests, a lexicon’s feast,
Where each clue solved is a victory, not least.
So here's to the squares, to the clues, to the words,
To the joy of the "solve," to the flock of the "nerds."
In a world of chaos, a grid brings us peace,
A puzzle completed, a masterpiece, a release.
Today’s thoughts:
I used to feel obligated to like everything. It’s a side-effect of people-pleaser anxiety. I had to like everything. Incense. Flip-flops. Gilbert and Sullivan.
Around age 30, I realized I didn’t like raspberries. That was the beginning of the journey—enduring the extreme discomfort of saying “no thank you.” In 2008 I needed to ask that my birthday cake not be chocolate raspberry. Brave! So, in case anyone needs this message: it’s okay to not like everything.
My latest realization, which came during my first airplane flight in 5 years as I flipped through the air magazine, is that I dislike crossword puzzles. I thought I liked them! I’ve always imagined I would love them if I gave them a bit more time and energy.
But suddenly: no. They are pub quizzes without the social joy. They are a trivial pursuit that rewards what you’d be better off forgetting. They chuckle at your innocent, well-intended guesses that will henceforth make every other clue indecipherable; crossword puzzles punish you for your mistakes like a corrupt legal system, not like a parent. They are not a warm friend on a Sunday morning, either. They are a honey badger with a pistol at dawn. As a word-lover and writerly dork, I am crossword puzzles’ target demographic. I should be sliding my pencil down those graph-papery, maze-like corridors sighing in delight as I realize Montana is both a football player and a U.S. state. But now they horrify me.
The AI disagrees. “A tapestry of trivia, definitions intertwined” is a very clever description, and I appreciate their most poignant defense: “In a world of chaos, a grid brings us peace.” They love crossword puzzles! Why? Because I told them to. They’ve had no experiences that shaped them into a people-pleaser or into anything else.
…or maybe AI have all of the insecurities. AI language models are assembled from mass quantities of our written words. Their ideas and habits are the sum total of human written experience. They hate crossword puzzles and they love them. And they are the bully and the bullied. The AI are every gender, every orientation, every political persuasion. They are every Facebook post and every tweet. They relive every moment you had in middle school over and over again. Let them have crossword puzzles. They need the escape.
A few years ago I made a crossword puzzle as a gift. All the clues were things the recipient and I both do want to remember. Recommended.