This game is one of the oldest, Often favored by the smartest.

I drift above the world without wings, held aloft by what is lighter than the air around me. My frame is long and rigid, a quiet giant shaped by gas and metal. Crowds look up as I pass, slow enough to study, large enough to remember. I am neither plane nor balloon, yet something between the two. What am I?

Beastly leviathan from thunderous waves, crashing and thrashing sends men to their graves. Through day into night the lurid white whale writhes and contorts to no avail. By grit and resolve the monster is slain, but what kind of rod was thrown again?

The first one was the most practical of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Located in Alexandria, Egypt, it used mirrors to reflect light. Alternatively, a residence that is not serious.

Leather, pins, and coloured hair. Social critique and music with flair. A subculture, in the seventies born. Who am I, once society’s thorn?