I have always found puzzles to be very fun. Sometimes in life there is no peace. Perhaps that is why puzzles sometimes make me very happy. Puzzles are so private and so private, they are much simpler to be solved than they are to face. I have a couple of particular favourites, like the ones in Digger Monthly, which have always been a very attractive puzzle for me.
A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a puzzle in the Sunderland Express that reminded me of a problem I had once solved in Digger Monthly, a puzzle written in 1934. In the Express puzzle, there is a cryptic symbol to which you can claim to answer a fiendish solvable riddle. In some magazines, it is simple enough to do.
The puzzle originally had several clues suggesting that the sentence was a crime of murder. Because the sentence is only a 3 on the Rhiddler Q-Passage Doh! (the zigzag zigzag indicator in the Express; there is no such indicator in Digger Monthly), the reader is now claiming to solve the challenge by answering the sentence. But the riddle does not require the answers to the clues.
The same applies to the piecing together of a cosy circle in the Sunderland Express. In certain puzzles (with or without clues) the player is supposed to solve the puzzle by writing down the hidden letters first. That solves the riddle. I have spent hours at times trying to remember what all the letters are.
Plainly this puzzle is a piece of misdirection. The clue is that if one answers the first three letters of the puzzle, one will get the answer. But that is not the correct answer. The correct answer is you should answer the letters A, B, C and D.
In conclusion, this puzzle is not solved, it is a riddle for pure fun. Puzzle addicts such as me love mysteries that require mental juggling, that have a distinctive design that makes them puzzles. A puzzle is a puzzle if it is good. That is the very rare kind that one solves or doesn’t solve.