The bearded economist Karl Marx infamously wrote, "religion is the opiate of the masses," presupposing an innate desire for dependency in men, regardless of class. More than a century later, opium remains dishearteningly expensive and religion is "sooo Pre-Enlightenment." Thankfully, in a city - the area covered by AU's shuttle system - so diverse that store clerks admire the curious Roman letters on one's fake ID rather than examining its obvious flaws, boxed wine provides a crutch to the weak so class-unifying that Marx would certainly approve. Capitalists can enjoy boxed wine for its innumerable joys:
Efficiently spend parents' money
From the lowliest high school student suspiciously loitering in Tenleytown to the spoiled college student "rebudgeting" the money granted by caring parents for books, boxed wine offers an alternative to cheap beer with a considerably more favorable and arguably "flavorable" ratio of dollars to pure alcohol. For example, an $8.99, five-liter box of Vella's "Delicious Red," cheaper than actual grape juice, contains 11.5 percent alcohol, amounting to quite a splendid ratio.
Augment overall drunkenness
Traditionally a compulsory component of the redneck wedding, the nectar of northern New Jersey's majestic vineyards intoxicates the ever-growing stratum of "desperate alcoholics without standards." After two or three glasses, the slightly fruity and mildly "vinegar-esque" beverage tastes quite like juice, albeit from an unnervingly non-extant fruit rather than the assumed grape. Although overly robust in body, and subsequently disgusting to swallow at first, the noncarbonated drink remains slightly less filling than beer. The ability to drink more is also the ability to get drunker.
Impress other people
Like a proudly vinyl Louis Vuitton clutch purchased from a Georgetown street merchant, boxed wine offers a distasteful and tacky guise of sophistication. Though all students unquestionably share the desire to go to TDR drunk, the "trashiness" element deters a startling amount, or so one might assume given the lack of statistical research on the matter. Emulating one's yuppie parents, or yuppie parents on television in the case of unfortunate students, one might demand a glass of wine before dinner as an "aperitif." The ambiguous definition of "glass" provides a refined opportunity to "get drunk and go to TDR," and the notion of drinking an aperitif certainly will raise a few eyebrows, as well as wine glasses. Being sketchier than Picasso's later works has never been so posh!
Violate school policy
In case a pesky R.A. should disturb one's rabble-rousing with the dreaded knock, the only tactic to avoid yet another wretched drinking violation is concealment of any evidence. With a floor cluttered with empty cans and a malodorous stench, a night of drinking beers produces a chaotic scene, almost impossible to tidy before the uninvited guest finally enters. Offering a significant amount of alcohol in an efficient package, a student can easily hide the box in his or her fridge, and reusing of plastic cups, readily available at the Eagle's Nest, significantly diminishes the clutter.
Cheap wine - The Pope does it
Although one's parents might contest this excuse for drinking, after their son or daughter has endured a stomach pumping at Sibley Hospital, the knowledge that a moral leader of the Western world condones drinking cheap wine certainly reduces the following morning's shame and self-loathing.
*The consequences for underage drinking vary in severity. The Eagle does not condone underage or excessive drinking, and advises students not to drink on campus.
