Good luck, bad luck

Have you ever broken a mirror? Let's demystify these 10 superstitions

Do you have rules you follow "just in case"? Some of us avoid walking under ladders, hesitate before opening umbrellas indoors, or instinctively knock on wood after saying something… But

where did these rituals come from? Why did some everyday accidents, animals, or gestures get labeled "unlucky"? Let’s explore some of the answers and whether they have to do with psychology, religion, history, or plain old common sense!

For one, there’s the safety concern: Why would you walk under a ladder if you could avoid the –albeit low– risk of it falling on you?

However, this superstition is also linked to the medieval Christian belief that interrupting a shape resembling a triangle was a way of insulting the Holy Trinity. Again: Why risk it?

Have you ever shattered a mirror and winced at the thought of years of bad luck? This goes back to ancient Greece and Rome. There, reflections were thought to be linked to the soul. Destroying a mirror was considered an affront to the gods watching over your spiritual self.

The "seven years" bit comes from the Roman idea that the human body renewed itself in seven-year cycles.

"You’ll jinx it!" is a common reaction when someone celebrates before their actual birthday. This superstition appears across several European traditions, where marking a milestone before it arrives was seen as presumptuous, even disrespectful to fate.

In eras when illness and mortality were real daily concerns, reaching your birthday wasn’t guaranteed… so celebrating early felt like counting blessings before earning them.

In ancient Egypt, black cats were revered and associated with protection and prosperity. What happened to their reputation, then? Simply put, in medieval Europe, when fear of witchcraft ran rampant, cats (especially the poor black ones) became linked with witches.

However, beliefs vary widely: in Britain, Ireland, and Japan, black cats can signify good luck or fortune, and sailors once welcomed them aboard ships to ensure safe voyages.

In many Western traditions, both Fridays and the number 13 had separate unlucky connotations long before they were combined: Friday was sometimes seen as ill-fated in Christian lore (Jesus’ crucifixion is said to have been on a Friday), and 13 was viewed with suspicion in Norse myth (where Loki’s unexpected arrival as the 13th guest at a feast led to chaos).

When early umbrellas with stiff metal frames first became popular in Britain and Europe, they were hard to fold and easy to jab into furniture, lamps, or unsuspecting family members. That made opening one inside genuinely hazardous, and turning it into a superstition was a tidy way to say, "Please don’t do it."

Almost everyone does this reflexively: you say something hopeful and then tap wood to "keep the luck going." One theory ties this to pagan traditions in Europe, where people believed protective spirits lived in trees; knocking on the trunk was a way to call on those spirits or to secure their goodwill.

Salt was once very precious: it preserved food, flavored meals, and even served as currency in parts of the ancient world. Spilling it meant waste, and waste invited misfortune. But, of course, everyone knows the fix: throw some over your left shoulder.

"Step on a crack, break your mother’s back." This ominous-sounding rhyme isn’t ancient at all; it rose to popularity in the early 20th century, spread through schoolyards rather than folklore. Of course, there is no logical explanation to back it up. But if you are superstitious… why would you risk it?

"One for sorrow, two for joy"... In British and Irish folklore, seeing a single magpie was thought to signal misfortune, loneliness, or bad news. The belief probably just pointed at how unlikely it is to see only one of these beautiful birds. To counter the bad luck, people developed rituals: tipping a hat, greeting the bird politely, or even saluting it.

BELIEVE IT OR NOT

Stranger Than Fiction: 10 Unbelievable Events That Actually Happened

Image: Diana van Ormondt

They say truth is stranger than fiction, and some of these historical events are living proof of this old adage.

Brace yourself for a rollercoaster ride through history, where the strange and unexpected take center stage in the theater of reality. From absurd battles to mysterious weather phenomena, these 10 astonishing tales will leave you thinking long and hard about the complexities of human history.

Image: Sharon Co Images

Wars are typically waged between nations, but in 1932, Australia faced an unusual adversary: emus. After large numbers of these flightless birds invaded crucial farmland within Western Australia’s Wheatbelt, the government decided to intervene by sending soldiers armed with machine guns to reduce the emu population in the area. However, most attempts were ineffective at most, killing very few birds and costing thousands of dollars in supplies and ammunition.

As soon as the first shot was fired, the seemingly tame emu dispersed way beyond the range of the machine guns, and apparently switched to guerrilla tactics of sorts, avoiding all further military ambushes and frontal attacks while still feasting on the farmer’s crops. The government’s futile attempts were ridiculed and physical barrier methods to manage wildlife were preferred from then on. Sadly, they give no medals for having endured the Great Emu War.

Image: Hannah Skelly

In 1518, the town of Strasbourg, France, was gripped by a strange and inexplicable phenomenon - people suddenly began dancing uncontrollably in the streets. The dancing madness persisted for weeks, with some of the affected succumbing to exhaustion or even death. The authorities at the time did not know how to react, and some people even joined the dancers voluntarily, as they feared it was a punishment from Saint Vitus (and presumably wanted to stay on the safe side).

After many efforts to fight the strange epidemic, the dancing eventually subsided and people in the town could resume their normal lives. While theories range from mass hysteria to hallucinogenic substances and neurological disorders like Sydenham's chorea, the event remains a historical enigma that challenges our understanding of the human mind and collective behavior.

Image: Nima Sarram

In 1908, a massive explosion flattened over 80 million trees in the remote Tunguska region of Siberia. The cause? A mysterious airburst, likely caused by the explosion of a meteoroid or comet in Earth's atmosphere. It is now estimated that the event had an explosive energy of 3 to 5 megatons, equivalent to over a thousand Hiroshima bombs. The resulting shockwave broke windows, and knocked people down hundreds of miles away, reaching an equivalent of an earthquake of 5.0 on the Richter scale in some areas.

A bright glow was observed in night skies in Asia and Europe for days after the event due to high-altitude ice particles that formed as a result of the explosion. For all its magnitude, the explosion left no visible crater and minimal debris beside the devastated forest. The Tunguska Event serves as a stark reminder of the potential cosmic threats that lurk in the darkness of space.

Image: British Library

Miscommunication can often lead to chaos, but rarely on the scale witnessed in the Battle of Karánsebes in 1788. The Austrian army, at the time facing the Ottoman Empire, descended into total anarchy when two different scouting parties mistook one another for the enemy, fired on each other, and raised the alarm.

Making matters worse, the Austrian army was made of men of different nationalities who more often than not could not understand each other. All attempts to end confusion and the ensuing friendly fire on the part of the Austrian emperor himself were in vain, and after a while - deeply demoralized - he was forced to give the order of retreat. When the Ottoman army arrived two days later, they found an empty battlefield and were able to take the city of Karánsebes without any resistance.

Image: Aswathy N

In 1807, eight years before Waterloo, Napoleon Bonaparte had a humiliating defeat at the hands of a strange opponent - a horde of rabbits. During the celebrations that followed the Treaties of Tilsit - which effectively ended the war between the French and Imperial Russia - Napoleon’s chief of staff Alexandre Berthier had the idea of organizing a rabbit hunt to entertain its guests.

So far, nothing out of the ordinary for the time, but when the rabbits were simultaneously freed along the edges of a grassy field, instead of scattering as expected, all these fluffy beasts began running toward their amused hunters. But the fits of laughter didn’t last long, as the now-hunted hunters realized that there was nothing they could do to stop the relentless animals as they swarmed their positions and had no other choice than to flee. Some accounts state that Berthier had gathered around 3000 rabbits, so not even mighty Napoleon was a match for this unexpected army.

Apparently, the chief of staff's mistake was buying tame rabbits from local farmers, accustomed to being fed by humans, instead of trapping wild hares for the hunt. If we learned anything from the Great Emu War, the lesson is clear: never underestimate animals!

Image: Mitsuo Komoriya

In the aftermath of the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia - the largest in at least 1,300 years - 1816 became known as the "Year Without a Summer." The volcanic ash floating in the atmosphere led to climate abnormalities worldwide, resulting in crop failures and widespread famine in the most affected areas.

In Europe and North America temperatures plummeted, and most crops suffered irreparable damage due to the persistent frost. In the United States, a "dry fog" was observed in the eastern regions, dimming sunlight so much that sunspots were visible to the naked eye. Also, the high level of volcanic particles present in the atmosphere caused strange optical effects in the following years, such as strong red hues during sunsets, which can be observed in many paintings produced at the time.

Image: Tiana Attride

It seems that wars against unusual adversaries are a fashionable trend in human history because the Roman Emperor Caligula declared war in the year 40 AD on no one other than the god Neptune himself, king of the raging seas.

Known for his eccentricity, Caligula allegedly ordered his legionnaires to "attack" the sea with swords and spears, after which he declared victory against the powerful god and told the men to gather seashells as trophies of war. One can only imagine that the soldiers had a fun -albeit puzzling- day.

Image: Tim Mossholder

In the late 1980s, Pepsi briefly possessed the sixth-largest navy in the world. In exchange for commercializing Pepsi products in the Soviet Union, the company received 17 submarines, a cruiser, a frigate, and a destroyer.

However, the fleet was composed of obsolete and unseaworthy vessels that were destined to be turned into scrap almost immediately. The payment was made in the only resources the USSR could gather easily at the time, and it provided a way to establish profitable international relations - and open up to the world.

Image: Garry T

The American Civil War started and concluded with a curious connection to Wilmer McLean, an American wholesale grocer from Virginia. The conflict's first major battle, the First Battle of Bull Run, took place in McLean's farm in 1861. A cannonball fell directly through the kitchen fireplace of the McLean’s house, which was being used as headquarters for the Confederate Army, destroying the dinner that was being prepared by the stationed officers - something that was noted not without humor by the Brigadier General P. G. T. Beauregard.

The McLean family moved to Appomattox, Virginia trying to escape the war, but just four years later, General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant in McLean's parlor, marking the conclusion of the Civil War. Unintentionally, McLean was a prime witness of one of America’s most defining conflicts. Later, he said of this: "The war began in my front yard and ended in my front parlor."

Image: Snowscat

Genghis Khan's vast empire and brutal military campaigns had an unexpected impact on the Earth's climate. A recent study suggests that the Mongol invasions in the 13th century led to a significant reduction in global carbon dioxide levels, as large areas of cultivated land returned to forests.

This had the unintentional effect of scrubbing as much as 700 million tonnes of carbon from the atmosphere, roughly equivalent to the global annual consumption of gasoline today. This drastic ecological shift highlights the effect that land use, and particularly deforestation can have on our planet at a large scale.