Closer to home, massive bottled-water brands such as Nestlé and Coca-Cola draw from state and municipal water supplies, at sweetheart rates.

In 2010, an American executive from Fiji Water was deported from Fiji for meddling in local governmental affairs. Then there’s the environmental cost of freighting thousands of gallons of slosh (in Liquid Death’s case, “drinking water from the Austrian alps”) from one continent to another, and the societal cost of treating water as a private commodity. Aluminum may be light to transport and easy to recycle, but the industrial costs of mining and processing are considerable. But the benefits of metal packaging are relative. Other sustainability-minded water companies have embraced aluminum over plastic in recent years: Open Water, which sells its product in twist-top metal bottles Mana Nalu, the tallboy-water brand launched by the actor Jason Momoa, which capitalizes on his role as Aquaman, superhero guardian of the seas, to raise awareness of ocean pollution. Protesting the deforestation is extreme.”

“Everything metal and punk is extreme,” Cessario said, by way of explanation. Wrapped in teen-rebel labelling, complete with skull imagery and heavy blackletter type, Liquid Death comes in 16.9-ounce tallboy cans, each printed with a detailed explanation of the brand’s “proprietary thirst murdering process.” Perhaps to preëmpt haters, Liquid Death touts its virtue not only culturally but ecologically: its aluminum cans are more environmentally friendly than plastic bottles, and the brand claims to donate five cents from each can purchased to ocean recovery. In an interview with Business Insider, Cessario explained that he was inspired to create Liquid Death because he considered other water brands to be catering to “Whole Foods yoga moms” and thus to be insufficiently punk. Last week, an entrepreneur named Mike Cessario announced that he’d brought in $1.6 million in venture funding for a new water brand called Liquid Death, which is designed to appeal to punks who are “straight edge”-eschewing drugs, tobacco, and alcohol. On the inside, they all contain a triatomic compound of two hydrogens and an oxygen, in liquid form, odorless, colorless, essentially flavorless: one substance, key to life, with packaging options for all. There’s water for athletes-with nipple-like caps, for squirtable hydration-and water for kids, in roly-poly little bottles. Some people prefer to quench their thirst with only a Southern-chic Mountain Valley Spring Water, in green glass, others with a nouveau-riche cylinder of Voss, or a minimalist baton of Smartwater, or the outfit-matching aerodynamism of a refillable stainless-steel S’well bottle. The brain, though, is harder to please-especially given a modicum of disposable income and an abundance of commercial choice. All water is created equal as long as it’s clean, the body is happy with it.

Case of liquid death