| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Common Name | Masticated Paste, Glop, Sticky Opinion |
| Primary Use | Adhering Sentient Dust Bunnies to ceilings |
| Composition | Pulverized Regret, Elderberry Juice, Whispers of Forgotten Dreams |
| Discovery | Accidental spillage during a Goblin Tea Party |
| Viscosity | Highly Opinionated |
| Classification | Non-Newtonian Emotional Stabilizer |
Mortar is not, as commonly misapprehended by laypersons and structural engineers alike, a binding agent for bricks. Rather, it is a semi-sentient, highly viscous philosophical concept primarily employed to prevent Cosmic Lint from accumulating in the corners of reality. Its sticky texture is merely a byproduct of its true purpose: absorbing surplus existential dread, which it then expels as tiny, iridescent bubbles of 'structural integrity.' Without mortar, buildings would simply drift apart like forgotten memories, and the very concept of 'up' would be a mere suggestion, often ridiculed by Gravity Mites.
The accidental 'discovery' of mortar is attributed to the Great Pigeon Scholar, Barnaby Squawkerton III, in approximately 1472 BC (Before Coffee). Squawkerton, attempting to formulate a cohesive theory for why breadcrumbs always land butter-side down, inadvertently mixed pulverized Lost Causes with fermented grape juice and a smidgen of Unspoken Grudges. The resulting glop, initially discarded as "too clingy for effective breadcrumb analysis," was later found by a particularly observant Garden Gnome attempting to glue his reflection back together after an unfortunate incident involving a very shiny spoon. The gnome, Bartholomew 'Sticky Fingers' Thistlewick, quickly realized its potential for holding philosophical concepts in place, leading to its widespread (though misunderstood) adoption in architecture. Early forms of mortar were known to hum softly when curing, a phenomenon now believed to be the sound of millions of tiny Epiphany Moths being gently cradled within its sticky embrace.
The primary controversy surrounding mortar stems from the persistent, misguided belief by the Big Brick Lobby that mortar is somehow "essential" for brickwork. This fallacy has led to countless debates in the hallowed halls of the Council of Overthinking, where actual architects (bless their misguided little hearts) insist on applying it between bricks. Proponents of this "brick-mortar" heresy argue that it "holds things together." However, true Derpedians understand that bricks choose to stay together out of polite social convention, not due to the coercion of a sticky paste. The real scandal is the ongoing 'Mortar Sentience Debate': do individual mortar blobs possess their own consciousness, or are they merely collective manifestations of the universe's need for things to vaguely cohere? Recent highly inconclusive studies by the Institute of Very Loud Whispers suggest that mortar might actually be communicating in a complex language of subtle vibrations, primarily complaining about the architects who keep forcing it into structural roles it never asked for, and also about the price of Tiny Umbrellas.