The Mystery of Klamokaptica

The children of the Cuerda Colony's 6th grade class were finally being shown the Colony Library. The year was 2034 and the Library was simply rows upon rows of computers, all fitted with the "Library program" so that the only thing children could access on them was literature.

The class began, like all others, with a lesson on how to use the dictionary.

"All concepts are defined." The teacher began, "A definition tells you what a concept refers to, which is always a minimum of two or more things."

The kids spent their time browsing and completing their assignments. Except one. His name was Krausson and he knew of a word that he wanted to define. See, Krausson's father was a schizophrenic and a drunk who somehow avoided mental health evaluation his entire life, and had filled every wall in his house with journals of unintelligible gibberish.

Krausson had thoroughly investigated every journal and found a recurring word- one that he thought was the key to his father's sanity: klamokaptica

So Krausson did what he had to do. He typed klamokaptica in to the search bar of his dictionary program. The result troubled him more than others:

"Klamokaptica, meaning: without meaning."

Stunned, confused, Krausson shouted to grab the attention of the entire room.

"WHAT DOES THIS MEAN???"

Some kids rushed over to see what the fuss was about and were easily convinced by the geniune look of frantic desperation on Krausson's face.

The growing crowd soon summoned the teacher, who was met by fanatical shouts from the group of scared children.

"How is this possible?! It's a paradox!"

"Could this really be an undefined word?"

"It's the anti-word! Not all concepts are defined!"

The teacher, Mr. Puñogordo, quickly assessed the situation, calmly parted the sea of irrationalites and opened Krausson's program.

Then, the crowd focused in, each person pushed closer in an attempt to see what Puñogordo would do.

Puñogordo sat, cracked his knuckles, leaned in and typed:

"adasdladqqmnb" and hit enter.

"adasdladqqmnb, meaning: without meaning." the computer said.

The confused crowd let out a collective "huh?" before Mr. Puñogordo explained, "The computer shows, "without meaning" as the "meaning" when there is simply no definition entry within the dictionary's database.  It just means that it is not a word or hasn't had it's definition entered yet."

That answer satisfied most of the kids who laughed and remembered the event as a funny story. And of course, everyone learned something new about words that day, thanks to Mr. Puñogordo's lesson on terms and meanings.

Everyone except Krausson.

That word was his only hope at connecting with the father, and the rest of his life was spent unraveling the mysteries of klamokaptica. He found it in patterns in ancient texts, archaeological ruins, mathematical equations, cosmic phenomena... but tragically, Krausson died without defining the concept, so nobody ever understood what he was talking about. But not before having a son... and not before filling every shelf in his house with journals about klamokaptica.