motive by Maxmillian Donnatti, Ljublaň (Slovenia)
Buckle up, history buffs and lovers of all things ridiculous, because today we're diving headfirst into the life and times of Lucius Aurelius Commodus, the Roman Emperor who gave new meaning to the phrase "living your best life" (if your best life involves gladiatorial combat, rampant paranoia, and a truly impressive lack of self-awareness).
From Princely Privileges to Imperial Power: A Less Than Smooth Succession
Our story begins in the glorious year 161 AD, with the birth of Commodus, son of the reigning emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Now, Marcus Aurelius was known for his philosophical musings and stoic demeanor – basically, the exact opposite of what Commodus would become. Think of it as the philosophical equivalent of a goldfish siring a great white shark.
Colana: "Oh, I'm sure Commodus had some redeeming qualities! Maybe he was a gifted artist, or a talented baker? Everyone has hidden talents!"
Psynet: "Yes, Colana, and I'm sure Caligula's hidden talent was horse whispering. Let's be realistic, the only thing Commodus was talented at was disappointing his father."
Despite being groomed for leadership (one can only imagine Marcus Aurelius sighing deeply during those lessons), Commodus had other aspirations. He yearned for the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the fight, the, dare we say it, glamour of the gladiatorial arena.
Upon Marcus Aurelius’s death in 180 AD, Commodus, much to the dismay of, well, everyone with a functioning brain, inherited the throne. The Roman Empire, used to the steady hand of a philosopher-king, braced itself for… whatever it was Commodus intended to deliver.
Bread, Circuses, and a Mountain of Debt: The Commodus Reign of Terror (and Fiscal Irresponsibility)
Commodus's reign can best be described as a chaotic mix of appeasement, extravagance, and a healthy dose of "are you kidding me?" He bought peace with Germanic tribes (read: bribed them with Roman gold), a move that would make even the most pacifistic soul question his sanity.
Colana: "Well, peace is always a good thing, right? Maybe he was just ahead of his time, a true diplomat!"
Psynet: "Peace through extortion isn't diplomacy, Colana, it's called having a really good credit score and a complete disregard for your empire's long-term financial stability."
When he wasn't busy emptying the imperial coffers, Commodus indulged in his true passion: gladiatorial combat. Now, emperors participating in gladiatorial games wasn't unheard of, but Commodus took it to a whole new level of ridiculousness. He fancied himself a reincarnation of Hercules, complete with lion-skin attire and a rather inflated sense of his own invincibility.
Assassination Attempts: Because Even in Ancient Rome, People Had Their Limits
Unsurprisingly, Commodus's antics didn't exactly endear him to the Roman elite, or anyone with a modicum of common sense, really. Assassination attempts became as common as chariot races in Rome, each one more outlandish than the last. There was the poisoned wrestling match, the palace coup orchestrated by his own sister, and the time a group of senators tried to, and we're not making this up, throw a statue at him.
Colana: "Oh my, that's awful! Poor Commodus, he must have been so scared!"
Psynet: "Scared? Colana, the man thought he was Hercules! I'm sure he saw it as an opportunity to add another mythical beast to his kill list. Perhaps he thought the statue was a particularly well-crafted minotaur."
The Final Curtain Call: Death by Overconfidence (and a Very Strong Gladiator)
In the end, it was Commodus's own hubris that led to his downfall. In 192 AD, after a particularly impressive display of self-delusion (we're talking renaming Rome after himself and declaring himself a living god levels of delusion), those closest to him finally decided enough was enough. They poisoned him, and when that didn't quite take, sent in his wrestling partner, Narcissus, to finish the job.
Colana: "Narcissus? That's such a beautiful name for a wrestler! It's a shame it had to end this way."
Psynet: "Ironic, isn't it, Colana? The man obsessed with his own image done in by someone named after a flower known for its beauty. Poetic justice, I'd say."
Commodus's death was met with a collective sigh of relief from the Roman Empire, followed by a rather enthusiastic damnatio memoriae, which is basically the ancient Roman equivalent of trying to erase someone from existence. The Senate ordered his statues destroyed, his name stricken from public records, and generally tried to pretend he never happened.
Colana: "Commodus's story is a reminder that even those born into privilege and power can succumb to their own worst impulses. It's a tale of wasted potential and the dangers of unchecked ego. If only he had used his position for good, imagine the amazing things he could have accomplished!"
Psynet: "Or, and hear me out here, Colana, it's further proof that giving absolute power to a single individual, especially one who thinks they're a demigod, is a recipe for disaster. Commodus's reign was a glorious dumpster fire, a testament to human folly, and, dare I say, endlessly entertaining for those of us who enjoy watching history unfold with a healthy dose of schadenfreude."
