A feral child (feral, – wild or undomesticated) is a human child who has lived isolated from human contact from a very young age, and has no (or little) experience of human care, loving or social behavior, and, crucially, of human language. Feral children are confined by humans (often parents),…
Thursday - the fifth day of the week, "... derives its name from the Middle English Thoresday, or Thursdaye, corresponding to the Roman dies Jovis. "Thursday's child has far to go," much like Thor, the only god who couldn't cross from earth to heaven upon the rainbow...
An Déardaoin or Déardaoin — Old Irish, "day between fastings" thursdaeg (Anglo-Saxon) donnerstag (Germanic) dies jovis (Latin) vrihaspat-var or guru-var (Hindu) jumerat (Islamic) jeudi (French) moku youbi (Japanese)
Thursday is traditionally seen as the fifth day of the week. Originally associated with two gods, 'Jove' and 'Thor', Thor was the God of Thunder hence the day also being known a 'Thunderday'. Jove was also known to be associated with thunder, with the French renaming the day 'Jeudi' which means 'Jove's Day'.
In Germany, Thursday was believed traditionally to be the most unluckiest of the week. As a result the practice grew of ensuring that no important business should be carried out, no marriages, and even that no child should be sent to school for their first time on this day.
Thursday is associated with Jupiter and the colors Blue and Metallics.
When forced to choose a favorite between a painting by a child, chimp or other animal and one by an abstract expressionist artist, people untrained in art usually picked the professional’s creation, even if it was mislabeled as that of a child or a non-human animal, say psychologists Angelina…
“It is a human impulse to want to sign our names or scribble comments on the walls of places that have meaning for us—from the Berlin Wall to the walls of Graceland to the paneling in favorite bars. By tradition, actors sign their names backstage in theaters where they’ve performed. Soldiers scratch their marks in barracks before heading overseas. Athletes scribble their names and jersey numbers in clubhouses.”—http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703409904576174300274052230.html
In the North Pacific ocean, there were two approaches to boatbuilding. The Aleuts (and their kayak-building relatives) lived on barren, treeless islands and built their vessels by piecing together skeletal frameworks from fragments of beach-combed wood. The Tlingit (and their dugout canoe-building relatives) built their vessels by selecting entire trees out of the rainforest and removing wood until there was nothing left but a canoe.
The Aleut and the Tlingit achieved similar results — maximum boat / minimum material — by opposite means. The flood of information unleashed by the Internet has produced a similar cultural split. We used to be kayak builders, collecting all available fragments of information to assemble the framework that kept us afloat. Now, we have to learn to become dugout-canoe builders, discarding unneccessary information to reveal the shape of knowledge hidden within.