ACROSS LITE PUZZLE: [ THEMELESS MONDAY]
PROGRAM: [Across Lite]
PRINTOUT PUZZLE: [ THEMELESS MONDAY]
PROGRAM: [Adobe Acrobat]

Long-time readers of the blog will recognize the phrase "Crossword Jesus" as a term for any member of the law firm of Berry, Shenk & Longo. The term was born in a humorous misunderstanding over an IM I was having with Francis Heaney. I was gushing, as one often does, over a Patrick Berry puzzle to Francis and instead of referring to Pat by name, I jokingly called him "The Crossword Jesus." Francis misinterpreted who the sobriquet was referring to and wondered what Frank Longo had to do with said puzzle. It was from this conversation that I concluded the nickname could be further applied to Mike Shenk. So the "Crossword Jesuses" were born. Part Father/Son/Holy Ghost of the puzzle world. Part winking acknowledgement (for the obscurants in the house) to the failed psychological experiment of the three Christs of Ypsilanti. A meme was born.
A "Crossword Jesus," simply put, is one whose puzzles are so perfectly formed, their themes so tight they make you go "wished I'd thought of that," their cluing is so on target, the overall effect appears as if the puzzle wasn't so much created, but rather it just sort of happened naturally. It is almost inevitable that during the course of solving a puzzle, the discerning solver's eye will notice areas in which "extra effort" was exerted to make the rest of the puzzle "work." For example: a mere mortal might pull off a packed-tight, stellar never-before-seen theme, bookended with 4x10 corners, chockablock with pizzazz in the fill. Yet, in order to make it "work," some cover-your-eyes-bad partial like, say, AN ALIEN will be the glue holding it together. There is none of that crap in one of the "CJs" work. You will not find the clue {"My Stepmother is ___" (1988 Dan Aykroyd film)} anywhere.
To continue the blasphemy metaphor, to achieve the title of "Crossword Jesus" one has to have performed a few miracles. There's not enough space to list all the accomplishments of the aforementioned, so one each will suffice: Frank's never-to-be-broken lowest word count in a 15x, Patrick's consistent how'd-he-come-up-with-that-grid-pattern-let-alone-fill-it-with-stellar-material varieties (here's three), and Mike's work, a nearly Cal Ripken-esque couldn't-lose streak, at Games Magazine roughly 1981-'96. Phew. Mike, for the record, authored my favorite puzzle of all-time.
Now, for sure there's Crossword Apostles out there. And if you believe in God, then you have to believe in the Devil. And sure enough, there's a Crossword Satan out there. But those will have to be addressed in another post. In the meantime, share the puzzle. New one on Wednesday.