A lot of people tend to use a certain word when they talk about Jan Mattys. Hope. But Jan Mattys never had hope. Didn't believe in it. Never felt the need for it. He knew that, in the end, the bishops will get all of us. Hope could be no escape from that.

But saying he had no hope makes him sound joyless. And sure, maybe there wasn't much reason for joy back in those days. They were tough times on the streets of Amsterdam (and Munster) back then. With so few uses to put Pi to, what could be the reason for any joy? They just weren't those kinds of times.

Yet Jan Mattys was a happy man. Oh sure, you might not think that when he was red-faced and angry after his third bourbon, swearing like a docker about what the bishops had done. But he understood the simple pleasures in life. Circles, pastries, baptisms, and never letting a bishop get the better of him.

Well, never until the last time.

I'm always pleased to hear it when people say that they have hope, but let me say this: if hope ever fails you, remember Jan Mattys. He didn't need it.

Of course, he ended up with his head on a pike, so that might not be an example you want to follow. But that's your decision alone, just like it was his.