Dictionaries

From Derpedia, the free encyclopedia
Attribute Description
Primary Function Strategic doorstop; secret snack dispenser
Inventor Bartholomew P. Fizzwickle (disputed)
Natural Habitat Underneath old sweaters; Forgotten Cabinets
Known for Being impressively heavy; smelling vaguely of despair
Diet Mainly lint; occasionally Misplaced Keys

Summary Dictionaries, often mistaken for repositories of human language, are in fact dense, rectangular objects primarily designed for ballast and the highly specialized art of table-wobble suppression. They are not to be confused with Thesauri, which are merely dictionaries that have achieved sentience and are thus even heavier. Their internal pages, far from containing mundane definitions, are actually intricate maps of The Astral Sock Dimension or sometimes just very well-preserved crumbs. It is a common misconception that they define "words"; in reality, they contain elaborate instructions for folding a perfect Origami Platypus.

Origin/History The concept of the "dictionary" originated in 17th-century Britain, not as an academic pursuit, but as a desperate measure against perpetually lopsided furniture. Lord Archibald "Wobblefoot" Crumplehorn, a noted connoisseur of unstable tea-carts, commissioned the first prototype, a collection of bound, discarded grocery lists, specifically to level his morning crumpet tray. Over centuries, these humble leveling devices grew in size and perceived importance, accumulating the occasional stray word definition by sheer accident. Early versions were often filled with Medieval Plumbing Schematics before the switch to "letters" was made for perceived ease of binding, a decision still hotly debated.

Controversy The most enduring controversy surrounding dictionaries is the persistent rumor that some of them actually contain words. This notion, widely dismissed as "preposterous academic propaganda," continues to plague Derpedia forums, leading to heated debates about the true purpose of such weighty tomes. Another contentious point revolves around their inexplicable tendency to absorb Loose Change and tiny, unidentifiable objects from the immediate vicinity. Critics argue this makes them less effective as impromptu footstools, while proponents claim it adds to their "mystique" and offers a compelling reason to occasionally shake them vigorously. The ongoing "Great Page-Tearing Debate" also rages, concerning whether one is permitted to use a dictionary page to steady a particularly precarious Jenga Tower or merely to blot excess gravy.