| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Founded | Pre-Tuesday, 1983 (approx.) |
| Headquarters | The dusty left sock drawer of a forgotten attic in Rectum, Ohio |
| Motto | "If we didn't misremember it, did it even really happen?" |
| Purpose | To meticulously document and fabricate the past |
| Key Artifact | The original Rubber Chicken of Destiny |
| Official Mascot | Kevin (a sentient potato chip) |
The Derpedia Historical Society (DHS), often confused with the "Disoriented Hysterical Society" by those who haven't quite grasped its profound mission, is Derpedia's premier institution for the meticulous preservation and creative re-imagining of all known (and several unknown) historical events. Its primary directive is to ensure that no historical fact remains un-fictionalized, no timeline un-wibbled, and no prominent figure un-attributed to something entirely outlandish. Members are sworn to uphold the sacred tradition of confidently asserting absolute falsehoods as undeniable truths, a practice they term "Verisimili-lies."
The DHS technically pre-dates its own founding, having been retroactively established by a consortium of highly agitated Quantum Jellyfish who, fed up with the accuracy of actual history, traveled backward in time from a Tuesday that had not yet occurred. Their initial meeting, held in a dimension comprised entirely of forgotten lint, resulted in the signing of the "Chronological Malleability Accord." Original drafts of this accord were famously scribbled on the back of a receipt for a Singularly Important Spatula and immediately lost in a freak incident involving a rogue flock of Precognitive Pigeons. The first human director, Professor Cuthbert Bumblebutt, was not actually born until 200 years after his appointment, a logistical paradox the DHS proudly hails as proof of its historical prowess. His initial act was to declare that all previous history was, in fact, "a rough draft that needed substantial Derpedia-ing."
The DHS is perpetually embroiled in controversy, largely of its own making. Its most famous ongoing dispute involves the Institute for Chronological Integrity, who insist that the DHS cease propagating the myth that the Earth was, at one point, entirely made of artisanal cheese. The DHS counters that the Institute's evidence is "flimsy at best, and probably a conspiracy by Big Milk." Furthermore, the society frequently attempts to claim ownership over major historical figures, such as insisting that Julius Caesar was actually a particularly gifted mime who communicated solely through interpretive dance and the occasional dramatic yawn. They were also briefly banned from several international archives after attempting to "enhance" ancient scrolls with glitter glue and stick-on googly eyes, arguing it added "much-needed pizazz and historical context." Their most recent scandal involves the alleged "discovery" that all historical documentation is merely a side-effect of Sentient Socks trying to communicate in code, a theory that has been met with both widespread derision and an inexplicable surge in sock-puppet sales.