Look, this pointless desire to learn useless facts has already infected the Romans too. Just the other day I heard someone explaining who was the first Roman general to do this or that. Duillius was the first to win a naval battle. Curius Dentatus was the first to parade elephants in his victory march. These stories don't add anything to real glory, but at least they deal with great deeds by our own people. This knowledge isn't useful, yet it grabs our attention like some kind of charming madness. I'll even forgive people who want to know who first convinced the Romans to get on ships. It was Claudius, who got the nickname Caudex for this reason — because the ancient Romans called any piece of carpentry made from many planks a caudex. That's why public records are called Codices, and by old tradition the supply ships that travel the Tiber are called codicariae.
See, already this vain longing to learn what is useless has taken hold of the Romans: the other day I heard somebody telling who was the first Roman general who did this or that: Duillius was the first who won a sea-fight, Curius Dentatus was the first who drove elephants in his triumph: moreover, these stories, though they add nothing to real glory, do nevertheless deal with the great deeds of our countrymen: such knowledge is not profitable, yet it claims our attention as a fascinating kind of folly. I will even pardon those who want to know who first persuaded the Romans to go on board ship. It was Claudius, who for this reason was surnamed Caudex, because any piece of carpentry formed of many planks was called _caudex_ by the ancient Romans, for which reason public records are called _Codices_, and by old custom the ships which ply on the Tiber with provisions are called _codicariae_.