Hope,
Violently.
Water blessed by an actual Buddhist monk, canned for those needing a little hope in their lives.
Aggressively
Hopeful.
i.Hope is not soft.Hope gets up at 5am. Hope shows up to the job interview with a rejection letter in its pocket. Hope is the most stubborn thing a human being can do. We put it in a can.
ii.Not a religion.You don't have to believe in anything to drink it. You just have to be thirsty and a little tired of everything. Which, statistically, is you.
iii.Just water.No sugar. No caffeine. No promises we can't keep. Just water, blessed, canned, and handed to you with an unreasonable amount of optimism.
The
Blessing.
Every batch goes through a strict three-step process. Two of the steps are normal. One involves a monk.
Sourced.
We start with clean, crisp water. Nothing fancy. Water was already doing a great job before we got here.
Blessed.
An actual Buddhist monk blesses it. Calmly. Thoroughly. With far more patience than you or I will ever have.
Canned.
Sealed in a 16 oz BPA-free can, so the hope stays in and the despair stays out. Infinitely recyclable. Like optimism.
The Commercial.
Canned for those needing a little hope in their lives.
Bad week? Bad year? Bad decade? Crack one open. It won't fix everything. But it's a start, and it's blessed.
Reported
Miracles.
We don’t make claims. Our drinkers do. Here’s what people say happened after one can.
Cracked open a Violent Hope at 2pm. By 2:15 my landlord texted “plumber coming Thursday.” He has never used punctuation before. I’m shaking.
Drank one before my performance review. Got a 3% raise. My manager seemed confused while saying it. I am not confused. I know what happened.
My ex returned my Tupperware. With lids. ALL the lids. 🙏
Had a Violent Hope in the drive-thru line. They got my order right AND gave me extra sauce without asking.
The DMV was 11 minutes. Eleven. The lady smiled. I’m keeping the can.
My Wi-Fi password worked on the first try at my mom’s house. She’s had it written on a napkin since 2014.
Got the good shopping cart. No wobble. Wheels all agree on a direction. Thank you, Violent Hope.
Found a parking spot directly in front of Costco on a Saturday. Someone was pulling out AS I ARRIVED.
Called customer service, got a human on the first ring, and she said “I can fix that for you.” Never felt seen like this.
My teenage son said “thanks for dinner.” Unprompted. I had one can at 5:30. You do the math.
Both AirPods were in the case. Both. At the same time.
Drank Violent Hope before a group chat argument and everyone just… agreed with me? Two people apologized. One I’ve never met.
Fitted sheet folded perfectly on the first try. I don’t even know how to fold a fitted sheet. Something guided my hands.
Doctor’s office was running ON TIME. I actually had to hurry. First time in history.
My HOA approved my mailbox. No notes. I’ve been fighting them since March.
Neighbor’s dog stopped barking at 6am. Just stopped. I hope he’s okay. I hope I’M okay. I’m on my fourth can.
Questions
of Faith.
Is it actually violent?
No. It's water. The hope is violent. The water is very polite.
Was it really blessed by a Buddhist monk?
Yes. An actual Buddhist monk. We're a parody brand, but we're not kidding about that part.
Do I have to be religious to drink it?
Not even a little. Violent Hope is about hope, not doctrine. All are welcome. Especially the tired ones.
Will it fix my life?
It's water. Let's manage expectations. But hydration is step one of almost everything, and you have to start somewhere.
Where can I buy it?
Not yet. We're getting ready. Sign up below and you'll be the first to know when the first cans drop.
Why a can?
Because hope deserves better than a flimsy plastic bottle. Our cans are BPA-free and infinitely recyclable.
Ready for a
Miracle?
No sermons. No spam. Just first dibs on the first cans, the commercial, and the occasional burst of unreasonable optimism.