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The colloquial phrase (as) extinct as the diplodocus, and its variants, mean: (of a person or thing) irretrievably defunct or out of date.
—Synonym: (as) dead as the dodo.
The noun diplodocus designates an individual of the extinct genus of gigantic herbivorous dinosaurs of the order Sauropoda, of which remains have been found in the Upper Jurassic of western North America.
—Cf. also the phrase dinosaur juice.
The phrase (as) extinct as the diplodocus perhaps originally alluded to Diplodocus Carnegii, the name given to a species of diplodocus discovered during excavations in Wyoming, in western North America. Those excavations were sponsored by the Scottish-born U.S. industrialist and philanthropist Andrew Carnegie (1835-1919), who, on Friday 12th May 1905, formally presented a complete reconstruction of the skeleton of Diplodocus Carnegii to the Natural History Museum, at South Kensington, London. The following, for example, is from Concerning Dragons, published in The Birmingham Daily Mail (Birmingham, Warwickshire, England) of Tuesday 16th May 1905 [page 5, column 4]:
“All the world and his wife” (says the “Westminster Gazette” 1) will probably visit the Natural History Museum at South Kensington during the next few weeks for the purpose of paying their respects to the new “lion,” albeit a dead one—Diplodocus Carnegii.
1 It does not seem that The Westminster Gazette (London, England) used this exact formulation in regard to the display at the Natural History Museum.
These are, in chronological order, the earliest occurrences of the phrase (as) extinct as the diplodocus and variants that I have found:
1-: From In Search of a Million. Hospital Students’ Quest, published in The Daily Telegraph (London, England) of Thursday 18th May 1905 [page 11, column 5]:
Never before, so far as can be discovered, have medical students, out of pure love for alma mater, volunteered to go in search of a missing million shillings, such as is held to be somewhere concealed about the persons of South Londoners.
In Bob Sawyer’s 2 time a pre-announced invasion of medical students would have caused apprehension in suburbia. Knockers would have been firmly secured, scrapers tied up, and big dogs let loose, as a matter of course. But as the genus Bob Sawyer is happily as extinct as the Diplodocus, both Brockley and Lewisham 3 decided that there was no need for nervousness.
2 This refers to Bob Sawyer, a medical student in The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club (1836-37), by the English novelist Charles Dickens (1812-1870).
3 This refers to the South-London districts of Brockley and Lewisham.
2-: From Books and Bookmen, by James Douglas, published in The Star (London, England) of Saturday 12th August 1905 [page 1, column 7]:
We may let Mr. Austin 4 maunder about the “greed” and “lust” of a “world of foes.” He is sadly out of date. Probably this screed was scrawled years ago during the heat and dust of that Jingoism which is now as extinct as the diplodocus.
4 This refers to the English poet Alfred Austin (1835-1913), who was appointed Poet Laureate in 1896.
3-: From Stray Shots from Sydney, by ‘Q.’, published in Punch (Melbourne, Victoria, Australia) of Thursday 14th September 1905 [page 366, column 1]:
Why is it that one sees so few girls at big dances nowadays? The “bud” is almost undiscoverable, and the artless charms of the married lady with a large family or the widow of fifty are apt to pall with constant repetition. Some of the giddy little things that one sees about these times must be nearly as old as Dean Swift’s struldbrugs 5. The old-fashioned notion that everybody over the time limit of half-a-century ought to sit in the seat of the chaperone, arrayed in decorous black velvet and diamonds, seems to be as dead as the diplodocus.
5 In Gulliver’s Travels (1726), by the Irish satirist, poet and Anglican cleric Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), Struldbrug is given as the native appellation of ‘the immortals’ in the kingdom of Luggnagg, who were incapable of dying, but after the age of eighty continued to exist in a state of miserable decrepitude, regarded as legally dead, and receiving a small pittance from the state.
4-: From the column Our Own Outlook, published in the Labour Leader: A Weekly Journal of Socialism, Trade Unionism, and Politics (London, England) of Friday 15th December 1905 [page 444, column 3]:
“It may be of interest to mention,” says a London press correspondent, “that it was once prophesied that John Burns 6, if he lived to eighty, would become Prime Minister in a Liberal Labour Cabinet.”
There’s second sight for you! A prophecy shot forth with an “if” like that, and aimed at a Liberal Labour Cabinet thirty-three years hence, might as well be pointed at the ancient walls of Jericho. We hope Mr. Burns will live to see his eightieth birthday, and we are certain that if he does he will find Liberal Labourism as extinct as the diplodocus.
6 This refers to the British trade-unionist and politician John Burns (1858-1943).
5-: From the column Our Women’s Outlook, by ‘Iona’, published in the Labour Leader: A Weekly Journal of Socialism, Trade Unionism, and Politics (London, England) of Friday 18th May 1906 [page 769, column 3]:
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
[…]
J. R. (Portsmouth).—The extract which you enclose from a letter from a gentleman friend is of the usual feeble type of letters of the kind. You can sure read in its lines the very plain fact that the fellow’s only idea of a nice woman is that she should be a soft, agreeable, grateful, and comforting “ministering angel” to his noble male vanity. I have no patience with such men or such women. They are both played out. They will soon, thank goodness, be as extinct as the diplodocus, except in Turkey and other heathen lands. If a woman can only be beloved by a man, so long as she possess [sic] a small brain, and has idiotic notions about men and public affairs, then—well, I won’t say what I was going to say. I shall go to the piano instead, and sing, “Where are you going, my pretty maid”!
6-: From the column Our Own Outlook, published in the Labour Leader: A Weekly Journal of Socialism, Trade Unionism, and Politics (London, England) of Friday 25th May 1906 [page 8, column 3]:
The new bridge over the St. Lawrence at Quebec, when completed, will form a new link between the people of Canada and the United States. Great efforts are being made to persuade the King and Queen to promise to perform the opening ceremony, which should take place early next year. Republicanism, “pure and simple,” will soon be as dead as the diplodocus.
7-: From the column The Week, published in The World’s News (Sydney, New South Wales, Australia) of Saturday 25th August 1906 [page 14, column 2]:
There are several indications that the noble art of the public gladiator is about to be severely discouraged. […] The professional bruiser, who “lives on the game,” is a social parasite that may be added to Mr. Gilbert’s little list of those who “never would be missed.” 7 And it is highly satisfactory to reflect that in a few years even he may be as extinct as the diplodocus.
7 This refers to I’ve Got a Little List, a song in The Mikado (1885), a comic opera by the British dramatist and librettist William Schwenck Gilbert (1836-1911) and the British composer Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900).
8-: From The World, the Flesh, and the Devil. [The Editor discourses upon passing events and topics of the day.], published in John Bull (London, England) of Saturday 5th October 1907 [page 317, column 1]:
Another vicar, he of Carisbrooke, is in search of the ideal curate, having lost the one he had—so valuable a specimen of that rapidly disappearing species that no fewer than thirty-eight vicars were in competition for his priceless services. […] Thus it has come about that there are more curacies than curates to fill them. Every year it would seem that fewer and fewer young men with brains […] are to be lured into holy orders, and it has come to pass that, for such as are going, vicars as keenly compete as flies for a treacle pot. Probably the species will soon be as extinct as the diplodocus.
9-: From The Herald’s Position, published in The Evening Republican (Columbus, Indiana, USA) of Wednesday 20th November 1907 [page 4, column 1]:
Is the Columbus Daily Herald making a plea for the houses of prostitution in Columbus?
[…]
The Herald then says:
“It is said that the business of the blind tiger 8 and house of ill repute has been woefully depleted because of the Civic League stringency and that a majority of them are making preparations to hunt pastures new. The Columbus Civic League strenuousity [sic] is a little too much for them and they will soon be numbered as extinct with the diplodocus and dodo.”
8 The U.S. colloquial expression blind tiger designates a place where alcohol is served illegally.
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