In a cogent sense, I have spent, at this writing, about eighty-eight years preparing for Wordle. I work with words, I am paid by the word, I majored in English, and today I major in Wordle. On the remote chance that someone in the English-speaking world who is unfamiliar with Wordle ever happens upon this essay, I should explain that Wordle is a simple, straightforward online game. Each day, a five-letter word is hiding in the cloud, and you have six guesses to name it. On a grid f ive squares wide and six rows high, you enter your first guess. If your first guess is correct, it was something like a fifteen-thousand-to-one shot and feels like winning a lottery. Wordle responds to your first guess by filling in the back ground of each of your letters with one of three colors. The background turns charcoal gray if the letter is not part of the day’s secret word, yellow if the letter is in the word but not in that position, and green if the letter is right for the position it is in.
Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin May 20, 2024 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Bu hikaye The New Yorker dergisinin May 20, 2024 sayısından alınmıştır.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Giriş Yap
THE FRENZY Joyce Carol Oates
Early afternoon, driving south on the Garden State Parkway with the girl beside him.
UPDATED KENNEDY CENTER 2025 SCHEDULE
April 1—A. R. Gurney’s “Love Letters,” with Lauren Boebert and Kid Rock
YOU MAD, BRO?
Young men have gone MAGA. Can the left win them back?
ONWARD AND UPWARD WITH THE ARTS BETTING ON THE FUTURE
Lucy Dacus after boygenius.
STEAL, ADAPT, BORROW
Jonathan Anderson transformed Loewe by radically reinterpreting classic garments. Is Dior next?
JUST BETWEEN US
The pleasures and pitfalls of gossip.
INHERIT THE PLAY
The return of “A Streetcar Named Desire” and “Ghosts.”
LEAVE WITH DESSERT
Graydon Carter’s great magazine age.
INTERIORS
The tyranny of taste in Vincenzo Latronico’s “Perfection.”
Naomi Fry on Jay McInerney's "Chloe's Scene"
As a teen-ager, long before I lived in New York, I felt the city urging me toward it. N.Y.C., with its art and money, its drugs and fashion, its misery and elation—how tough, how grimy, how scary, how glamorous! For me, one of its most potent siren calls was “Chloe’s Scene,” a piece written for this magazine, in 1994, by the novelist Jay McInerney, about the then nineteen-year-old sometime actress, sometime model, and all-around It Girl Chloë Sevigny.
