Nurlo!

Echidne introduced me to Weffriddles in a recent post I just found Tuesday and now my brain is full of weird chants: Alf, I bet. The answer is waiting in the dark. 16 + 1. Google Eyes...

Weffriddles is not a typical riddle or maze game. Answers to the riddles advance you through the maze. But the maze is the website and the idividutal pages are the riddles. The answer to each riddle provides the url to the next level.

There is something about puzzle-solving that is so addictive. I love puzzles and riddles and puns and braintwisters. Partly because they usualy make me feel smart. You know, that rush that comes when the answer lights up your brain. I thought I was smart but now I feel stupid.

Echidne implied she was barely fazed before Batch 3! I was off to a roaring start when i solved Level 1 and 2 of Batch 1 in, like, 30 seconds. But then I was stuck on Level 3 for more than 4 hours!

So maybe I am stupid. I must be. My head feels like a brick it just knocked out of the wall!

Knock Knock. Who's there?  404.

And this after just two days. Well, just 16 straight hours. I haven't dared to go back since I ripped myself away Wednesday afternoon having reached Level 16 whose clues are in the form of mathematical equations of the sort that glaze my eyes and raise the hackles on my neck as though I am feeling the piercing gazes of three dozen classmates fixed on it as we all wait for that inevitable moment when the teacher, voice oozing with contempt or pity, commands me to hand the chalk over to someone who has been paying attention.

Maybe the math formulas are red herrings and the real clues are something else, somewhere else in the make-up of the page. In the text, in the title, in the text formatting, in the colors....

I can hope!

But how likely is it seeing how the creator claims to be an engineering student. And only 19!!  Yeah, he's probably the son of that kid in my sixth-grade math class whose hand was always threatening to wipe the light fixtures off the cieling like so many cobwebs as he vied for the honor of grabbing that chalk out of my sweaty hand.

Arrrrgh!