Riddle How Old Am I

Please note… I have studied riddles to some extent and I present them as powerful mind-strengthening exercises. Good riddles are wonderfully challenging and amusing ways to explore and practice careful thinking. They are an ancient custom of the whole human race. So if you don't mind, I would like to claim my thing with riddles is a public health effort. -Thank you.

First of all, absolutely first, in case you are some kind of Druid-ish person of some sort, living somewhere in some ethnicity or nationality at some point in history, I NOTIFY YOU I am playing DRUID RULES NO HOLDS BARRED. So there's that.

And second, as the Druid Rulebook says, if you already know the answer to the riddle before it starts, and whereas this here riddle hasn't even started yet, well then the Rulebook says you MUST pretend you do not know the riddle's answer for as long as you possibly can.

That's if you know the answer before the riddle starts. Like it starts and now you realize that you already knew the answer. Obviously a decent person is certainly expected to really play along anyway, as much as possible, you must play along, and if you admit you know the answer, then you're cheating.

And that Rule is especially important to you and I because anybody who reads the stuff I scribble already knows I'm VERY OLD, or anyways they know I'm VERY OLD now, so they know the answer of this Riddle before it starts. And do please pay attention.

So you must pretend you do not know my age, right??

So here's A Riddle… How Old Am I?

And you must not answer because you know the answer.

Here's my Means Of Exposition … By means mainly of Tomfoolery, I intend to baffle you, to baffle your thinking as if I were Whiffling The Intake Baffles of your mind's Thinking Engine, I shall endeavor to do you like that, despite the fact you already know this riddle's answer.

I'm not promising to accomplish that, just stating the goal of this exercise, but I am guessing I have a partial success already at whiffling your input baffles.

I shall process our Riddle farther…

You may have noticed that I have a presence on the internet. But if you've noticed it or not, I do. So I'm going to tell you about my first website, my very first website, but first the professional software engineering desk where I stole a little time from work to do the initial sketched pages of my first actually-serious art project. These things were only a few years apart.

I'm going to give you those two brief descriptions of those two real things as clues for our Riddle. That's fine I hope. But then I'm going to require you to guess how old I am from that. So first the old desk and then the old website.

My software engineering desk, when I first stole some time for serious art… It was an accountant's desk at a New England mill, for I used accountant's tools and supplies.

A goose neck lamp with a lens you could focus, that was clamped on one corner of it. Hardwood surface that mechanical pencils could not indent. Open a drawer, lots of small compartments for the many bits of hardware used to make marks on paper, put different sizes of paper together, and finally take them apart. It was a desk for structured careful paperwork.

Me, to publish the final versions of my engineering papers, after lots of preparation, I would sit there with rulers and stencils, doing originals of the final versions in nbr. 2 pencil, then finals of the final versions in the very fine ink pens technical draftsmen used. Lettering all freehand.

I would be filling in graph-like coding sheets and also structuring large open drawing spaces which had a little form on it to document your drawing. The little form was up in the big sheet's corner.

I used the largest shapes of paper that our smelly coal-powered xerox machine could absorb and emit.

How long ago do you think that was?

My first website… It was an extra little benefit thing, a little one-color note-card-looking wysi-wyg drag-and-drop thing, a screen editor like a rolodex card you could stick a few things on. You could have one picture of you. This was a rough little free option only for paid-up members of the world's only e-mail service.

I'm saying the world's only e-mail host offered this primitive free tiny-website bonus for paid members. Size of a small card. Had a primitive kind of hyperlinks that could only link to other paid-up e-mail users. No picture editing and no spellcheck.

That was my first website. Used it to advertise my Druid Storytelling service. How long ago do you think that was?

Yes, this is all true. I swear that every word of this is true.
Okay, is your brain baffled yet?

Suggestions if you are perplexed and haven't given up…

First if none of this, none of this, none of this text at all, is intelligible to you whatever, none of it makes any sense, then re-read the whole thing four or five more times and try again.

That's one of my suggestions for you.

But failing that, would you like to see a little TECHNICAL ANALYSIS of this Riddle??? A technical summary? Of this riddle??

Technical Summary… The Riddle's First Half… Mis-direction…

The writer lies repeatedly and largely. Even claims the whole first half of the riddle is not even part of it!!!! Thereby, a twisted bit of idiotic logic that is flatly stated as being true, there in the first half, but then the writer fires a starting pistol, claiming the riddle is now immediately starting, while actually half way into it.

So you're supposed to sign up for the team, put the argument behind you, accept whatever First Half has told you about the riddle, and thus hobbled, you are then commanded to make sense of the sorry sodden mess of strangely perverted logic that the riddle has become.

That's the First Half of this complex riddle.

Second Half… Attractive but misleading syllables.

“Coal-Powered Xerox Machine” An attractive but misleading syllable! Actually, at that time, much of the electricity on the New England power grid came from coal-powered generating plants, thus making all of the electrical office equipment coal-powered, so to speak.

“My Druid Storytelling Service” This phrase struggles to paint an image of ancient castles on the rockbound Cornish coast, with Ancient Druids hurrying about from place to place, castle to castle, on little donkeys perhaps, and accepting their performance gigs by messenger pigeon. That would be pretty long ago.

But actually there was a very popular fashion for stand-up storytelling in New England in my time, up on stage. And the character I developed for the stage was a kind of Merlin person who would conjure up things in your mind, so to speak, a Druid storytelling service.

Ps. You might enjoy my newest book of woke-up stories.
Free complete download plus other stuff here… www.stoneriley.com/armystories
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Published on February 07, 2019 07:31
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Stone Riley's Shoebox

Stone Riley
A poet writing essays. Why the title? You know you keep a large size shoe box with all those creative ideas and suchlike stuff scribbled on the back of electric bill envelopes?
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