Basically, don’t be like Ibrahim “The Mad.” You see, Ibrahim I was Sultan of the Ottoman Empire from 1640 to 1648, and was quite the womanizer. And, like most womanizers, he was extremely insecure, quick-tempered, and required the constant validation of new females — evident with his obscenely large harem of 280 women. So what does this story have to do with overreacting? Well, I’m about to tell you.
When one of Ibrahim’s concubines decided to sleep with someone other than Ibrahim (probably some handsome, cool dude like your girlfriend’s ex), Ibrahim “The Insecure” lost his fucking shit. He threw a tantrum like no other and had 278 (some sources say all 280) of his concubines bound with rope and drowned in the Bosphorus Strait as punishment for the one disobeying him and the others protecting her. That’s pretty much the historical equivalent of forcing your girlfriend to delete her social media accounts. Because, let’s be honest, without social media, you might as well be dead.
Well, you just learned some history. You also learned that Ibrahim was a fucking dick. So, yeah, don’t be that guy.
REINVENTING YOURSELF
Shit happens — relationships end, jobs are lost, and well, life doesn’t always go the way you’d planned. Maybe you were a super cute kid growing up, and thought for sure you were destined for a career in modeling, but the blooming teenage years were harsh. (Let’s just say you emerged looking more like a caterpillar and less like a butterfly.) That’s life. Sometimes things happen that force you to look at your alternatives in order to continue moving forward. And, THAT is fucking great. It’s an opportunity to reinvent yourself and become even cooler than you were before.
Going back to the example of the formerly cute kid turned high school hunchback, if life deals you a caterpillar face, use those bug eyes to your advantage. You could easily become an actor. One who makes tons of money playing a creepy stalker, a praying mantis, or a serial killer. My point is: With an open mind, it’s never “the end.” Take for example, King Eric VII of Denmark, also known as Eric of Pomerania, or Erik av Pommern. (Yeah, lots of alternative spellings here.)
You see, Eric was the King of Denmark from 1389–1442, the King of Sweden from 1396–1439, and also the King of Norway from 1396–1439. (Quite the curriculum vitae.) Unfortunately, despite being a charming and charismatic leader, a series of public rebellions began during the 1430s. So, in 1439, Eric simply said, “Fuck you, dorks — I’m out.” Fed up with the rebellions, he went on strike and moved into his secluded Castle Visborg on the island of Gotland. (Kind of like Elsa’s ice palace.)
When it became clear he was in no hurry to come back, the nobles of the countries he’d left behind called his bluff and deposed him as their king — not exactly the idea Eric had in mind. But, he wasn’t the kind of guy who easily gave up. So, he took advantage of his leadership experience in order to reinvent himself into the perfect pirate. And, for the next 10 years, he kidnapped ships, held ports for ransom, and did all sorts of piratey things in order to maintain his lavish lifestyle and once again say, “Fuck you,” to his former countrymen. Talk about taking control of your life. Bravo, Eric… bra-fucking-vo.
I want you to remember this story the next time life gets shitty or something doesn’t go as planned. Use it as an opportunity to become something better — and despite what your teachers told you growing up — YOU CAN become a fucking pirate.
A TRULY LOYAL ROYAL
Popular culture has given us a lot of bullshit over the past few years: cinnamon-flavored whiskey, pumpkin-spice everything, and the general notion that “hoes ain’t loyal.” I get it, that was a catchy song — but if you’re reading this, and you’re a guy — it’s time you move on from that mindset. Trust me, there are still some women, like Olga of Kiev, out there. You just have to be worthy and ready to actually date one.
Olga was a princess during the 10th century in an area now divided between Ukraine and Russia. And don’t let the name “Olga” fool you — she was absolutely fucking gorgeous. She was also extremely loyal to her family, her country, and her man. So, naturally, tons of dudes wanted her. So much so that the jealousy of other men eventually led to the assassination of her husband, Igor of Kiev, who was killed by the rival Drevlians in hopes of convincing Olga to marry one of their own, Prince Mal. But, Olga didn’t want anything to do with their Drevlian bullshit. She had her man, she lost her man, and her son was now the only man who mattered in her life. She would rather die — sad, wrinkly, alone, and smothered in fucking cats — than ever marry Prince Mal’s Drevlian ass.
So when Mal sent 20 of his finest negotiators in an attempt to persuade Olga to accept his marriage proposal, she had all 20 of them buried alive. When he sent a group of nobles as a follow-up, Olga had them locked in a bathhouse and burned alive. Olga then pretended to apologize by inviting all the Drevlians to a party. At that party, she had her army kill 5,000 men — but she wasn’t done yet. Olga then invaded the Drevlians’ lands and had her army burn down every fucking house. (In case you haven’t caught on, Olga really liked fire.) I think it was about this time Prince Mal realized Olga was too much woman for him and he gave up trying to pursue her.
Olga continued to rule over Kievan Rus’ as a single, independent woman from 945 to 963 on behalf of her son until he was old enough to rule alone.
Now, ladies, if a guy ever questions your loyalty or calls you a “ho,” be like Olga and burn his fucking house down.
FEAR OF MISSING OUT
FOMO. For those of you who didn’t read the title of this lesson, that’s short for, “Fear of Missing Out.” FOMO can apply to nearly every aspect of life. Unfortunately, with jobs, family, and other responsibilities, you’ll never be able to experience everything — you’re going to miss out — often. That’s just part of being a functioning adult. But you know what? It’s not that bad. Sure, it can be frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as what happened to former horse trainer, turned jockey, Frank Hayes.
You think missing last Friday’s party was bad? Well, this poor bastard missed out on the biggest moment in his racing career. He won, but wasn’t there to enjoy it. How does that fucking happen? I’ll tell you. On June 4, 1923, Frank suffered a fatal heart attack midway through a race at New York’s Belmont Park. He died, but his horse kept running and actually won the fucking race. The weirdest part: Nobody even noticed Frank was dead until afterward. The officials went over to congratulate him on his first-ever career win and found a corpse saddled in. Frank’s dead, lifeless body was just bobbing around on top while the horse did all the work. (You know, like a terrible sexual partner: Physically they’re there, but other than that, they’re fucking lifeless.)
Talk about missing out. The greatest accomplishment of Frank’s life, and he wasn’t even there to enjoy it. Hopefully, somebody in Heaven threw him a celebration party.
Anyway, FOMO sucks, but as long as you’re there for the big, important moments of your life — like winning your first race — it’s okay to miss a party here and there. Prioritize, and pray you don’t die when something really cool actually happens.