LOL Interwebz: Life Hacks, Traditions, and Why Your Wine Wants You Dead

Each week in LOL Interwebz, Luke T. Harrington explores the quirks and foibles of Internet culture from a Gospel perspective.

Traditions are strange things.

That’s my conclusion after reading about a potentially disastrous life hack that’s been circulating around the Web: got a bottle of wine but no corkscrew? Just slide the bottom of it into the heel of a shoe and bang it against a wall till the cork slides out on its own. Or so the legend goes.

Oh, and also: doing that might kill you.

It turns out that banging a glass bottle against a wall might shatter it — who knew? — and that the momentum will also force your hands into the shards of glass you just created. Hope that wine was worth the stitches, broham.

It’s incredible to me that tips like this even exist — are we really all so desperate for a bit of spoiled grape juice that we’re willing to risk our lives to get to it? And, if so, why are we still closing wine bottles with corks in the first place? In an era when my Oreos are only a lift-flap away and my canned soup comes with a pull-tab, why are we still banging corked wine bottles against the walls like cavemen — especially when better wine closures than corks already exist?

And the answer, of course, is tradition. We’ve been sealing wine bottles with corks forever (actually, only for a couple of centuries, but nobody knows that), so why should we stop? It’s part of the experience, man.

And if I wanted to be cynical about that, I’d chalk it up to alcoholics making excuses: “Wine’s not just a (lame) drug; it’s, like, a tradition, man. You can tell I’m not just a drunk because I own this $500 corkscrew (which I forgot to bring, so let’s try this shoe thing).”

I don’t want to be cynical, though, because wine actually does have a rich tradition. For most of human history, drinking wine wasn’t just an expensive way to relax; it was a necessity for survival. Water by itself grows mold and bacteria without modern sanitation; fermented beverages were the only way to stay hydrated without killing yourself.

And it’s important for us, as Christians, not to lose sight of that historical reality. When Christ picked up the bread and the wine and said, “This is my body; this is my blood,” the choice of elements wasn’t an arbitrary one; among other things, he was saying, “I am your basic calories and hydration. I am literally the bare minimum for survival.”

He was also instituting a tradition with a bit more staying power than the cork in the wine bottle — one that would remain with the faithful for 2,000 years and (by the grace of God) more. Something much simpler and more ancient than your fancy Rabbit corkscrew that you’re too drunk to find, thus necessitating the removal of your shoe — all of God’s people, gathered around one table, feasting on the fruits of the earth and the first fruits from the grave, celebrating God’s eternal victory over death. Something ancient and something eternal — a tradition to outlive all others and quench all thirsts.

Whenever I read lists of life hacks on the Internet, I’m struck mainly by how useless most of them are. Who in the world needs a bagel caddy? Since when is a topographically questionable plate preferable to a conveniently hand-sized takeout container? And what would ever possess someone to stick a straw into a soda can? They’re fascinating to think about, but even at their best they’re mere distractions from our delicious bagels, Chinese takeout, and artificially-orange-flavored soda — attempts to improve ancient, orthodox nourishment with contemporary novelty.

It’s sort of like trying to improve on the ancient worship instituted by Christ. We substitute in grape juice (which, believe it or not, pretty much wasn’t a thing until the 1890s); we add light shows and skinny jeans; we mix in some rave music; but it’s all just empty novelty, just so many distractions from the life offered in Christ’s blood. At best, it’s just arbitrary packaging (like that annoying cork in your wine bottle); at worst, it’s needless (or dangerous) novelty, like that idiotic thing your drunk butt is doing with that glass bottle and your shoe.

It’s not hard to understand the human need for tradition. We all want to be part of something bigger than ourselves. We all want to be heirs to something ancient and built to last. So it’s no wonder zorks haven’t caught on (as awesome as they are). We bristle when people try to “modernize” our traditions; doing so completely misses the point of what tradition is. Traditions are infinitely bigger than you are, and you can’t make them hip and modern any more than you can change the current of a river by jumping into it. You either jump in — and give into its power — or you don’t.

You are, I guess, more than welcome to open your wine with a shoe, if you must (though you might want to dial “91” on your phone beforehand). Treat it like what it is, though: a pointless parlor trick. A novel method of dealing with a mysterious tradition.

And above all, don’t forget to enjoy the fruits of the earth concealed beneath that cork. After all, that’s why the cork was there in the first place.