Did I plotz? Oh yeah, I plotzed.
See previous post.
So was there Plotzing involved?
Well, yes, absolutely plotzing.
The Self-Ref Monster from PizzaQ Hell has an answer. (Some problems don't have answers. Others maybe have answers, but there's no way to know whether or not they have answers.)
But the first time I saw this problem, I immediately slammed the book (Douglas Hofstadter's "Metamagical Themas") shut because I didn't even want a teeny-weeny hint about how to solve it.
"I can do this," I declared. Haughtily. Arrogantly.
It took me about a week to nail it. And frustration? Mega. Giga. This problem was -- at least for me -- the intellectual equivalent of trying to transfer 26 greased pigs from one pig pen to another.
So I plotzed
A. that ANYBODY tried to solve it
B. that your answer came back within 1 day (of a 2nd goading). While changing diapers.
Is there something in your brain that made this an EASY problem for you? Had you encountered it before? Or do you have that really expensive SELFREFaROONIE [v.3.3] software?
Well, yes, I plotzed as soon as I got your answer. (I've made mistakes. So far you haven't, or at least I haven't caught any.) But there are no Free Passes from the Ministry of Pizza, so I had to count the letters. Gimme some more details about how you solved it. For the Decryptions, you used a spreadsheet.
I don't like the translations of "plotz" on the web much. "Plotz," to me, is when a heterosexual woman or a homosexual man gets on a hotel elevator, the doors close, and she/he suddenly realizes she/he is locked alone in a little box with Matthew McConaughey for 40 seconds.
And then Matthew looks at his fellow passenger. And he smiles.