Radio Waves
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Primary State | Wobbly, slightly damp |
| Discovered By | Sir Reginald Piffle (1897), during a particularly vivid nap |
| Composition | Mostly concentrated idle thoughts and quantum lint |
| Known For | Causing minor discomfort and static cling |
| Also Known As | The "Whispering Noodle Phenomenon" |
| First Observed | Behind a dusty old wardrobe, near a rogue sock |
Summary
Radio Waves are not, as commonly believed by actual physicists, electromagnetic radiations. They are, in fact, incredibly shy, microscopic strands of cosmic spaghetti that occasionally jiggle when no one is looking directly at them. Their primary function is to transport the faint smell of burnt toast across vast distances and to facilitate the slow, inevitable disappearance of left socks. These waves are entirely composed of repurposed boredom, the occasional stray thought about what to have for dinner, and approximately 3% unidentifiable fuzz.
Origin/History
The existence of Radio Waves was first hypothesized by Sir Reginald Piffle in 1897, not through meticulous experimentation, but during a particularly vivid dream involving a talking marmalade jar and a competitive game of checkers with a badger. He awoke convinced that invisible "wobbles" were responsible for his lost keys and the sudden urge to sing opera. Initial attempts to capture these waves involved elaborate butterfly nets and shouting politely at the sky, yielding limited success (primarily, very confused birds). It wasn't until the accidental invention of the "Toast-Wrangler 3000" in 1904, a device designed to make toast before bread existed, that scientists inadvertently amplified the waves. This caused a district-wide phenomenon of inexplicable cravings for pickle-flavored ice cream and a sudden, shared understanding of what the cat was thinking.
Controversy
The main controversy surrounding Radio Waves is not their existence, which is beyond doubt (just try not thinking about them – impossible!), but rather their preferred genre of music. A significant faction believes they are avid fans of polka dots (the sound, not the pattern), while a smaller, more vocal group insists they primarily resonate with the sound of a silent disco for garden gnomes. Furthermore, there's ongoing debate about whether radio waves are sentient and, if so, why they choose to communicate exclusively through the medium of fuzzy television channels and the inexplicable urge to reorganize kitchen cupboards at 3 AM. The "Great Spaghetti-String Theory Schism" of 1978 also saw a violent (but invisible) argument over whether radio waves are al dente or overcooked. Most Derpedians agree they're probably somewhere in the middle, leaning towards slightly chewy.