Ways to kick the bucket

I have been going through a severe case of what one would call 'The writer's block'. Which is why this topic is something of a godsend. The topic itself seems pretty cagey, so I will clarify some stuff at the very beginning itself- Yes, it is about death. No, I am not depressed. Yet. 

Anyone who knows me can state for a fact that I am a disturbingly dark person (at times). Sinister stuff interests me. I like watching detailed documentaries about serial killers and unsolved murder mysteries- its the way I roll. I assure you that I  do not have an inkling to repeat what I learn. For now.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day. We were talking about random stuff (Kenny Sebastian coming to Kottayam and whatnot). During our conversation, I said something that made her laugh (I know, I was surprised too). Somewhere between her attempts to catch her breath, she told me that she would die laughing. Naturally, I thought- what a weird way to kick the bucket. I had never really thought of dying that way. My concept of dying usually involves heart attacks, Brutus-like sword killings, Ninja attacks and- killing. Yep, basically being murdered. The whole concept of dying while laughing got me thinking- Is it possible?

My curiosity got better of me and I, like any other science student, took up my research in google instead of referring my vast college library (I do not think the college will have materials about weird deaths though. Something about teenage suicides and where they get innovative 'death ideas' from). Google was productive. I spent the whole day reading about weird deaths.

Turns out dying while laughing is a common thing. The proper term is 'Fatal Hilarity'. There has apparently been at least two recorded cases in history- one of which entails a story which involves a Greek philosopher (his name is something along the lines of Chrysippus. For ease, let us call him pappus). Pappus fed his donkey wine, getting it drunk. The donkey then got hungry and attempted to eat wild figs, but could not do so (because it was obviously drunk). Pappus, who had been watching this, found the sight to be so hilarious that he laughed himself. To death.

Serves him good, if you ask me. 

In the 5th century B.C., Zeuxis, a Greek painter, died of laughter looking at his own painting of the Goddess Aphrodite. 

In Fatal hilarity, death is usually brought about by asphyxiation or heart failure. In some cases, victims laugh throughout the night and late into the next day. 

A KILLER joke, if you ask me.

What a funny way to go, though. Just imagine your tombstone: Death by laughter.

I got more curious in my search for funny deaths. The material I got from google itself is so endless and so funny that I would have probably experienced a case of Fatal hilarity myself if I were not careful.

Apparently, people have perished when they were on the toilet. Doing their daily  business. What an embarrassing way to die. 

The first English king to meet his demise on the loo was King Edmund Ironside (Died: 1016 A.D.). He was stabbed to death.

I pity the assassin. I imagine the whole ordeal might not have been a pretty good sight to deal with.

Exactly two hundred years after King Eddie kicked the bucket, King John died from dysentery. For those of you who do not know what dysentery is, it is an infection of the intestines that causes diarrhea containing blood or mucus.

Yuck.

Wikipedia has a whole page about toilet deaths. Just letting you know.

According to historical accounts, the Greek philosopher Heraclitus was said to be devoured by dogs after smearing himself with cow manure in an attempt to cure his dropsy.

Adolf Frederick (once was the king of Sweden) killed himself via a single excessive meal. In 1771, he ate a feast of caviar, lavish amounts of seafood (and some other stuff which I cannot spell) and a mind-boggling 14 servings of bun soaked in warm milk. 

Die eating. That is our motto.

Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe (a very popular guy in the sciences. Look him up) held his bladder until it burst. Brahe refused to leave the banquet table to pee, because it was impolite. Boom. Dead.

One Mr. Hans Steininger (there might be more n's in his last name), known for his long beard (approx. 1.4 m), forgot to keep it rolled up one day. He tripped on the whole thing, fell down and succumbed to a rather silly death. What you get when you try to beat the record.

Louis III (King of West Francia), died aged 18 whilst mounting a horse to pursue a GIRL who was RUNNING TO SEEK REFUGE in her father's house. He hit his head on the lintel of a low door and fell, fracturing his skull.

A royal rooster, if you ask me.

Henry I, King of Castile was killed by a tile that fell from the roof.

Archduchess Mathilda of Austria (woman empowerment!) set her dress on fire while trying to hide a cigarette from her father, who had forbidden her to smoke.

An unnamed person was beaten to death with a Bible during a healing ceremony gone wrong in Hawaii. He was being treated for malaria when his family summoned a priest of some sort who decided that he was possessed by devils (instead of being bitten by a mosquito) and tried to exorcise the demons. By beating them. With a Bible.

All in all, death is a pretty defecating concept. There is no doubt in that. One day we must all die. The brilliance lies in how you die. Somebody once said (I do not exactly recall who and when I attempted to search, Google just came up with a bunch of grief quotes and articles about coping with demise) that people not remembering your birth is not your fault but people not remembering your death is. It all depends on making your expiration memorable. And ridiculous. So that I can write an article about it.

That is it for today. I am going to be a bit busy for the next couple of days- My parents are demanding an explanation on why my google history is filled with searches on ways to die.