I might be a little sleep-deprived at the moment, and it is coming quite close to 1am, but I'm genuinely beginning to wonder whether Thursdays hold some particular power of some kind. Sort of.
Basically, I'm not sure whether others associate "patterns" with nearly everything (I'm told it's an autistic thing) but one of these "patterns" is the nebulous and difficult-to-explain concept I like to call "conscious importance". Basically, the idea that everything has a certain degree of importance in the cultural consciousness as a whole - for instance, Mario has a high degree of "importance" compared to Bubsy, the number 2 has a higher degree of "importance" compared to the number 917, and so forth.
Imagine it a bit like a search engine, where the most "searched" (or, in this case, thought) thing is ranked higher on an arbitrary scale. This can change, over time - celebrities like Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson are more "consciously important" to our modern society and culture at this moment in time compared to someone like acclaimed (1930s) actor Katharine Hepburn because the former is more commonly "cited" in terms of thought. It's not to be conflated with pure recognisability, but Johnson is more "searched" than Hepburn for instance. If I were to perform an identical thought experiment in like, 1934, then Hepburn would of course be significantly more "consciously significant" primarily because of Johnson not even existing yet.
So here's the thing. Whilst celebrities, characters, other things like that, do have "importance" - they're not cultural mooring points. You could probably find people that don't know what a Mario is. But they do know what the number 2 is. See, "conscious importance" can also apply to wider concepts as opposed to just singular things, and one of the single most prominent and important things in modern society is the concept of the day. It's a fundamental force on the planet, it's existed for as long as culture has, and we assign "importance" to certain days.
Mondays, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Wednesdays, Tuesdays, Thursdays. Odd order at first glance, but I think this is the reasonable decending order of "significance" of each day - Monday is dreaded more commonly than Friday is celebrated, Wednesday is a "halfway point" but not really as significant as Sunday in multiple cultures, etc. And yet Thursday's at the bottom. It's near universally-accepted that Thursday is different to nearly all other days to the point that SmashBoards ****posts and acclaimed science fiction author Douglas Adams can agree on it. Thursday isn't quite the same as Monday or Friday not purely in terms of the fact that it's another day of the week, but in that it fundamentally feels different on a level difficult to even conceptualise.
What is a Thursday? Thor's Day? Why Thor? Why would one Norse farmer from the 9th century naturally associate the ferocity of storms with a day recognised near-unanimously for its complete and utter lack of substance? The natural conclusion is one of two: either that there wasn't enough days to go around (which is why Reddit invented Cake Day) or that Thursday wasn't always considered as "nothing" as it is. So where did it change? I feel the importance of my idea of "conscious importance" is interesting because Thursday probably hasn't had a particular "thing" happen to it that's made it less notable, but rather, a lack of things that's happened to it. A statistical void of notability compared to other days - whether it be Sunday due to its association with Christianity, Monday and Friday for their connections to the working week, even Wednesday purely for its placement in relation to that. And what is a day, anyway? In terms of a week, why is it Thursday 7 days after it's Thursday over and over again? Well...
Thursday is a void. And what is a void but a lack of being? Entropy is naturally associated with the state of being, but the paradoxical state of un-being that Thursday exists within ironically makes it more "consciously significant" than even days like Tuesday because of its sheer lack of notability, which causes a paradox, because how can something be un-notable if it's notable for being un-notable? For comparison, if I post where the least-thought-about place on Earth is, the second I think about it, it's no longer notable for being the least-thought-about place on Earth because of the fact that I'm thinking about it in the first place.
The problem is that this causes yet another fallacy because of the simple nature of searches. For every page of Google searches there's billions of others that nobody really cares about - some having not even been clicked in literal decades. Even me knowing about something being "un-notable" makes it instantly more notable than the vast majority of "things", because in the grand and scarcely comprehensible list of "things" there is inevitably - purely by force of probability - a vast, equally scarcely comprehensible list of "things" that nobody is, has, or ever will think about. Links of the mind that will never, ever be clicked, in a sense.
That's not even getting into what a "thing" is in the first place because I could fold up a handkerchief into the shape of a crane and call it "a handkerchief", "an origami crane", or "fabric" and technically never be wrong in the first place. What is a "thing", after all? Something that can be catalogued as "existing"? If we were to make a genuine, citable list of everything we know about - a physical representation of the conscious importance index - that massive void of things we don't know about wouldn't be added, would it. Are they still "things?"
Is a Thursday a "thing" in the first place? It's a concept related purely to terms of reference, after all - a constant keeping-of-count of one planet spinning around as it spins around a star as it spins around a galaxy as it spins around a universe. From an external perspective, a Thursday doesn't only just "not exist" but it doesn't even have a need to be conceptualised. It's fundamentally, utterly redundant - not even being notable for its lack of notability. But what would look from the outside? This brings up a question of space. If we leave our solar system, what do we use to measure "time"? Thursday is, after all, a product of Earth-centric "time" in pure relation to our complete and utter lack of spatial awareness. Would Thursday - and indeed nearly any other unit of time aside from the SI units of seconds and so forth - become utterly pointless, archaic-at-best systems with which to even consider time?
The issue in this case is vagueness. Humans are utterly ****ing terrible at categorising anything. If I take sixteen atoms of your black forest gateau away, it doesn't suddenly become classified as a main course. If I attach an infinite number of legs to a chair, it doesn't stop being a chair. The fundamental rules of what "is" are almost completely dependent on point of view, context, expectations, and a massively simplified observation as to what I'm trying to show you (either physically or metaphorically.) Even then, we're limited by a language system that only has a finite number of methods with which to describe concepts, relying on mechanics like metaphor to continue maintaining relevancy as a means of conveying ideas.
When it comes to days of the week, Thursday is the least notable. It's a void. It lacks substance. But because of that, Thursday becomes notable. It draws something from nothing, a fundamental violation of the basic laws of thermodynamics. What is a Thursday but an anachronism, a series of infintisimally small coincidences that perfectly lined up in that vast and unknowable storm of entropy to form a group of apes citing the name of a god nobody cares about and laughing because it's spelt wrong on their light boxes?
Thursday is nothing because it is something because it is nothing - recursive. That's why it has power. Oh, and one more thing - if you ever did that thing as a child where you kept asking your parents "Why?" whenever they explained something and they'd eventually get pissed off and shout "BECAUSE IT IS", this is... yeah, pretty much it.