The Siberian Family Who Didn't Encounter Another Human for Over 40 Years

To this day, the Siberian wilderness is still one of the most isolated places in the world. Known as the Siberian taiga (meaning "forest" in Russian), its harsh, cold climate greatly discourages human habitation. Its steep hills and difficult terrain makes it nearly impossible to travel through it, muc

h less live there. It's filled with pine and birch trees, nearly undisturbed by humans for centuries. Bears and red foxes wander through the forest during the day, while wolves hunt at night. It's freezing cold with the average mean yearly temperature at negative five degrees Celsius. Stretching east to west, from the Atlantic Ocean across the continent to the Mediterranean, and extending up north to the Mongolian Arctic border, the Siberian taiga is the largest of Earth's nearly uninhabited wilderness. Nearly five million square miles of barren land sparsely populated by a few towns containing only a few thousand people.

In 1978, a team of Russian geologists were sent to explore the deepest, most isolated part of this region. Forest and wilderness that, at the time, have been barely touched by human hands. Traveling there via helicopter, from high above the taiga, they spotted something that seemed quite unusual- a clearing with a garden, clear evidence of human life. This seemed nearly impossible to the geologists. They were nearly 150 miles from the nearest human settlement. Upon landing, the geologists knew they had to investigate, despite their trepidation. One of the geologists, Galina Pismenskaya,  said later that they had "put gifts in our packs for our prospective friends," but also checked "the pistol that hung at my side."

They continued on and found more signs of human inhabitants-  a wooden staff, a log bridge across a stream, more gardens, until they saw a hut. They approached the hut with caution. Finally, the makeshift door creaked open and out stepped an old man with tattered clothing and an unkempt long beard.  Despite having "fear in his eyes", the old man said very softly to his visitors, "Well, since you have traveled this far, you might as well come in."

As the geologists entered, what they saw astonished them. The dwelling was something out of history books- tree stumps holding up the foundation, floor made out of potato peels and pine-nut shells, everything covered in filth. As they looked closer in the dim-lit, one room shack, they saw this was a home for a family of five, a father and four children, two of which began crying uncontrollably at the sight of humans unknown to them.  As the geologists said,

The silence was suddenly broken by sobs and lamentations. Only then did we see the silhouettes of two women. One was in hysterics, praying: 'This is for our sins, our sins.' The other, keeping behind a post… sank slowly to the floor. The light from the little window fell on her wide, terrified eyes, and we realized we had to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Karp Lykov, the old man, once lived in a populated part of Russia. He was a member of a fundamentalist Russian Orthodox sect known as the Old Believers, called this because their worship style hasn't changed since the 17th century. Old Believers had been persecuted in Russia for centuries, even before the Soviets took over. Dating back to Peter the Great's reign in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, Old Believers, who customarily wore beards, were forced to pay a tax on their facial hair.

When the Soviets took over, Karp thought it was time to retreat to sparsely populated towns that dotted Siberia. One day, in 1936, while working the fields with his brother near their village, a Communist guard came by and shot his brother right in front of him. Karp immediately grabbed his family (which, at the time, only consisted of his wife, his son Savin, and his 2-year old daughter Natalia) and disappeared into the dark Siberian wilderness.

Karp and his wife, Akulina, had two more children in the wild, Dmitry and Agafia, who before they met the Russian geologists, had never seen another human besides their own family. Everything they knew of civilization came from their parents. They were taught how to read and write with the help of an old family Bible. They knew nothing of the world past 1936, including even the existence of World War II or the Cold War. Every member of the family had to learn how to provide for themselves using only the resources found within the wilderness.

As the children grew, they became the hunters and gatherers. Dmitry, for example, learned how to kill animals without guns or bows. He did this by digging traps and chasing the animals until they collapsed from exhaustion. Times became even tougher for the family when Akulina passed away in 1961 (approximately) from starvation. Now, it was just a father and four children struggling to survive.

Realizing how traumatic this must be for the kids, having never met another human before, the geologists retreated out of the hut and set up camp a little ways away. Soon, the family came out and approached the scientists, still scared but curious. At first, they refused everything given to them by the geologists, including clothes, food, and bread (Karp explained that his youngest children had never even seen bread, much less tasted it). Soon, the family and the geologists formed a bond. The geologists told them about what they'd missed in the world since 1936 and showed them modern innovations like cellophane ("Lord, what have they thought up—it is glass, but it crumples!", exclaimed Karp) and television (which scared and enthralled them at the same time). In turn, the family showed the geologists how to survive in the Siberian taiga, including how to grow crops in such harsh conditions.

The geologists continued to survey the wilderness, co-existing with the family, for several years. On several occasions, the scientists tried to convince the family to move back to civilization, but they refused. Eventually, though, the years of survival in harsh terrain caught up with them. In the fall of 1981, three of the four children (Dmitry, Natalia, and Savin) passed away within several days of another, two from kidney failure and one from pneumonia. The geologists offered to transport the sick members of the family to a hospital, but their offer was staunchly refused.

After the death of the three, the geologists once again tried to convince Karp, now a man in his late 80s, and his youngest daughter, Agafia, to move in with relatives in a village 150 miles away. They still refused. On February 16th, 1988, exactly 27 years to the day after his wife, Karp passed away in his sleep, leaving only Agafia as the surviving member of the family. Insisting on staying, Agafia, as far as I could dig up, to this day now in her 70s, still lives high in the mountains of the Siberian taiga. Alone.

Raising Chicago

The city of Chicago was founded in 1833, on the coast of Lake Michigan and within the Mississippi River watershed. Its location -- near rivers which lead south and adjacent to a conduit eastward as well -- lent itself to rapid growth. Only 200 people were living in Chicago at its founding on August 12 of that year, but it quickly grew. By 1840, well over 4,000 people lived there; by 1860, Chicago had 112,000 residents. For its first century, it was widely regarded to be one of the fastest growing metro areas in the world.

But growth comes with a price, especially in a city which is just five hundred feet or so (182 m) above sea level. When it rained, it flooded. Everywhere. Chicago, into the 1850s, did not have a working municipal sewage system. So water just collected and collected. Where water sits, disease brews, as Chicagoans quickly learned. Typhoid fever, dysentery and cholera struck the city year after year. In 1854, a cholera outbreak killed as much as six percent of the city's population. Fixing the problem, though, came with a problem unto itself -- how do you build sewers where the buildings already are?

The solution: Raise the buildings.

No, not raze. Raise, as in to lift up. If the city could figure out a way to elevate four- and five-story (and larger!) buildings a few feet, they could install new foundations, allowing for the construction of a municipal sewage system. A few years later, they did exactly that. In January of 1858, the first building -- a four story high brick structure weighing 750 tons -- was placed on two hundred fifty jackscrews (this is what a jackscrew looks like) and successfully lifted more than six feet over its original height without damaging it.

Over the next decade, much of central Chicago was similarly lifted so that the sewage system could be constructed. Most impressive, perhaps, was the lifting of a row of buildings 320 feet (nearly 100 m) long on Lake Street -- accomplished by roughly six hundred men over the course of five days. One hotel, the Briggs House, required dozens of men, as seen above (larger version of what appears to be an engraving here), and survived the lifting just fine. In other cases, the city also had to raise the sidewalk, roads, and anything else installed too low for a sewer system to run underneath.

In general, the lifting was successful; there are few reports of damage. (Ironically, many of the buildings lifted -- including the Briggs House seen above -- were destroyed by the Great Chicago Fire of 1872). And the city took the lifting as an opportunity to do something else: it gentrified. Wooden frame buildings, which were looked at as lesser, poorer structures than the brick and iron ones, were lifted -- and then removed, driven out of the city. As Wikipedia notes, the practice of putting these buildings "on rollers and moving them to the outskirts of town or to the suburbs was so common as to be considered nothing more than routine traffic."

Bonus fact: If you're ever in Chicago, try the garlic and onions. The word "Chicago" comes from a Native American word, transliterated into French as "shikaakwa" (say it aloud), which over time became the term we know today. "Shikaakwa" means either wild garlic or wild onion, both of which were plentiful in the region before settlers of European descent arrived in the area.

Fanta was invented in Nazi Germany!

Fanta originated in Germany in 1941. It is owned by the Coca-Cola Company. It was difficult to important Coca-Cola syrup in Nazi Germany during World War II due to trade embargos. So, the head of Coca-Cola Deutschland, Max Keith, decided to make a new product for the German market.

He used ingredients available already in Germany at the time, including whey and pomace. During a brainstorm on what to name the beverage, Keith said "use your imagination" or "fantasie" in German. Salesman Joe Knipp yelled out "Fanta!" And it stuck.

During the war, the plant was effectively cut off from the headquarters of Coca-Cola, but the plant management never joined the Nazi Party. After the war, headquarters regained control over the plant and overtook the trademarks for the new Fanta product.

They also accessed and took all the plant profits made during the war. Today, there are 100 flavors worldwide of Fanta. Sunkist, Crush, and Slice are all fruit-flavored carbonated soft drinks that mimic Fanta or are offbrands of Fanta.

(Source)

372 people search for porn on Google every second.

Pornography is available everywhere today. Magazines, film, books, and of course the internet. In 2006, the internet division of the industry made nearly 5 billion dollars. 

Thanks to search engines like Google, all it takes is typing a single word to find something on the internet- including more adult subjects. It's estimated that one fourth of all internet searches are pornography related. 

About 13% of Americans view pornography regularly, and three fourths of them are men. The exact number on how many people search every second can be misleading though. The number was determined by looking at certain keywords and how often they were searched. 

The problem is the keywords can often be coincidental in their relation to adult searches, and so the figure could be much lower. This number also isn't very accurate in representing how many people visit porn sites on the Internet, because it excludes those who visit specific sites, and only includes those who search it in Google outright. 

(Source)

A Text Message a Day Keeps the Asthma Attack Away

Simply sending children with asthma a text message each day asking about their symptoms and providing knowledge about their condition can lead to improved health outcomes.
Read More

Fred's Fish

The first episode of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood aired in 1968; the last new episode aired in 2001. If you or your children grew up in America and you're reading this, there's an almost 100 percent chance that you've seen at least bits and pieces of the show. You probably know about Fred Rogers' habits -- changing his sweater and shoes when he entered and exited his home, "traveling" by trolley to the land of make believe, feeding his pet fish, and speaking directly to the children at home as if they were visiting his house. For one of his millions of fans -- a five year old named Katie -- the fish feeding part was of particular importance. It was so important to her that she and her father wrote him a note with a simple request:

"Please say when you are feeding your fish, because I worry about them. I can't see if you are feeding them, so please say you are feeding them out loud."

Katie's father explained. Katie was blind, and, in her father's words, "she does cry if you don't say that you have fed the fish."

The story is recounted by Rogers in his book, "Dear Mr. Rogers, Does It Ever Rain in Your Neighborhood?: Letters to Mr. Rogers."  The host of the Neighborhood also explains (in response to a question from "Meaghan, age 10") why he has fish in the first place:

First of all, when we feed the fish, we're showing that we "take care of" other living things, and being taken care of is something very important to children. They know they need grown-ups to provide them with food, like the fish in our tank need us to feed them. It does have a lot to do with responsibility, as you mentioned! Also, I like to watch anything that swims!

As for Katie's request? In the book, Mr. Rogers tells readers that, since receiving the note, he's "tried to remember to mention out loud that times that I'm feeding the fish. Over the years, I've learned so much from children and their families. I like to think that we've all grown together." What else would we expect from a man for whom every day was a beautiful day in the neighborhood?

Bonus fact:  Mr. Rogers once stated in an interview that all of his trademark sweaters were knitted by his mother.

"Et tu, Brute?" was Not Caesar's Last Words

In terms of famous last words, Julius Caesar's supposed "Et tu, Brute?" may be the most well known of any in history. For context, William Shakespeare would have us believe, Julius Caesar, in his final moments cal

led out: "Et tu, Brute? Then fall Caesar!" to his longtime friend Marcus Junius Brutus, prior to succumbing      to      stab wounds inflicted by  Brutus   and   co-cons

pirators in the Senate house.

Shakespeare's rendition of Caesar's last words has received popular canonization – entering the vernacular alongside other literary imports from Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Julius Caesar such as "Beware the Ides of march!", "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!", "Friends, Romans, countrymen lend me your ears!" and "Sic Semper Tyrannis!"

As Caesar professed to love Brutus as a son, and had been Brutus' political sponsor, "Et tu, Brute?" has become a popular literary trope expressing shock at the betrayal of an ally. Popular reception notwithstanding, however, "Et tu, Brute? Then fall Caesar!" is one Shakespearean exclamation that should provoke historical indignation. According to the Roman H

istorians Plutarch and Suetonius, the former of whom wrote "Life of Caesar" and "Life of Brutus", the inspiration for The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, these famous words are a historical fiction.

In roughly 49 BC, Gaius Julius Caesar, then a very popular general of Rome's armies, emerged the victor from a civil war. Caesar's victory both removed his chief political and military rival, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (defeated by Caesar at the Battle of Pharsalus), and concentrated military power in the hands of Caesar, thereby clearing the path for him to assume dictatorial power. As dictator, Caesar was de jure Chief Executive and Military Commander of Rome, powers which he had already ass

umed in practice. However, the legal office of dictator also granted Caesar power to rule by decree, and also to wield unilateral judicial power. As a consequence of this, the balance of political power shifted away from Rome's political elite, the Senate, which had for centuries served as Rome's premier electoral and administrative body, and entirely towards Caesar.

Unsurprisingly, the Senate took this loss of power and privilege less than lightly. Throughout Caesar's dictatorship, Caesar had consolida

ted his political power even further, being declared dictator perpetuo (dictator in perpetuity) and also passed laws that allowed him to personally appoint senators and other officials loyal to him, and to dismiss others at whim. This stoked fears that Caesar wished to completely dismantle the Roman Republic, and instead rule as a king.

To put the gravity of this in perspective, kings ruled Rome prior to the founding of the Republic by Lucius Junius Brutus. Brutus, in roughly 509 BC, summoned the Roman people to vote for the overthrow and exile of the monarchy – an act of rebellion sparked by the rape of a Roman noblewoman, and Brutus' kin, Lucretia who felt being raped dishonored her family, so killed herself. (Fascinating to think that if not for that rape, much of human history may have been completely changed.)

After the monarchy was successfully deposed, one of Brutus' first acts was to get the people to swear an oath that never again would a king rule in Rome.

Brutus' influence was also of more immediate impact on Caesar's assassination: he was ancestor of Marcus Junius Brutus, the very Brutus to whom Caesar (allegedly) cried to in death. Reportedly, Senator Ga

ius Cassius Longinus, one of the principal architects of the plot to kill Caesar, attempted to entice Marcus Brutus to participate in the assassination by implying his ancestor would have done the same.

This outlawing of kingship in Rome, in tandem with the personal distress and jealousy of the weakened Roman Senate was the uppermost motive for Caesar's assassination. Both The Tragedy of Julius Caesar and the historical record make this clear. However at this point, Caesar's last moments deviate quite a bit from the Shakespearean version.

In Act 3, The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Shakespeare writes th

at the conspirators set upon Caesar on the floor of the Senate House. Metellus Cimber initiated the attack, drawing close to Caesar with the pretense of asking Caesar to read a petition. Then the conspirators fall upon him, Casca first, crying "Speak, hands for me!", Brutus delivering the last (and presumably fatal) blow, and Caesar uttering his famous lines before expiring.

Plutarch and Suetonius would have something to say about this, if they'd been around to read Shakespeare's account. According to Plutarch, Caesar was not killed in the Senate itself, but rather in the Theater of Pompey, as the main Senate building was being restored at the time, so the Theater was being used as a substitute.  The assassination did, however, occur  on the Ides of March 44BC.

The actual death of Caesar appears to have gone something like this, (fromPlutarch's Caesar):

Casca gave him the first cut, in the neck, which was not mortal nor dangerous, as coming from one who at the beginning of such a bold action was probably very much disturbed. Caesar immediately turned about, and laid his hand upon the dagger and kept hold of it. And both of them at the same time cried out, he that received the blow, in Latin, "Vile Casca, what does this mean?" and he that gave it, in Greek, to his brother, "Brother, 

help!" Upon this first onset, those who were not privy to the design were astonished and their horror and amazement at what they saw were so great, that they durst not fly nor assist Caesar, nor so much as speak a word. But those who came prepared for the business enclosed him on every side, with their naked daggers in their hands. Which way soever he turned, h

e met with blows, and saw their swords leveled at his face and eyes, and was encompassed, like a wild beast in the toils, on every side. For it had been agreed they should each of them make a thrust at him, and flesh themselves with his blood; for which reason Brutus also gave him one stab in the groin. Some say that he fought and resisted all the rest, shifting his body to avoid the blows, and calling out for help, but that when he saw Brutus's dagger drawn, he covered his face with his robe and submitted, letting himself fall, whether it were by chance, or that he was pushed in that direction by his murderers, at the foot 

of the pedestal on which Pompey's statue stood, and which was thus wetted with his blood.

Suetonius reports that bystanders claimed Caesar said "Kai su, teknon?" ("You too, child?") upon witnessing Brutus' betrayal. Yet despite the reported accounts of bystanders, both Plutarch and Suetonius themselves were of the opinion that Caesar actually said nothing, which perhaps wouldn't be too surprising considering he was a warrior being attacked.  While in Hollywood and at the theatre this is always a time ripe for long dialogue, in real life, less talk and more action tends to be the best course to improve the odds of staying alive. Further, once one has been stabbed numerous tim

es throughout the body (23 times in this case), making any noise other than a gurgle isn't perhaps the easiest thing in the world to do.

Shakespeare's massaging of events can be partially forgiven as he obviously wasn't attempting to write history, but rather to, in true Shakespearean form, write Caesar's death in a manner that highlighted the excitement and gravity of the act. Caesar pulling up a toga around his head and dying in silence doesn't quite draw the same reaction as a jarring "Et tu, Brute?" at the moment the betrayal is fully realized.

It should also be noted that the phrase "Et tu, Brute?" appar

ently was popularized prior to The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, so the blame for this inaccuracy appears to lie elsewhere. Shakespeare thus aimed for profit and popularity in using a common phrase identified with the event. Given this, one can understand why Shakespeare is a household name, rather than say, Suetonius. "Et tu, Shakespeare? Then fall duller, more accurate, historical accounts."