A plastic, miniature Ionic column. A nod to the Greeks. A group of people known for their acts of homosexual sex. The column was painted white. It’s not perfect. Hardened drips of the white paint can be seen on most sides. It’s subtle. I could argue it’s an ode to white liquids. Or an ode to my amateurish skill in painting. A taupe-ish green carpet swatch sits on top of the column. There’s glitter dusted on it. Quite a flamboyant craft supply. On top of the glitter laced carpet sits a tea cup and saucer. Dainty. Floral. A nod to gay tea rooms. Delicately placed on the tea cup sits a budweiser can. Empty and smushed as if I tried to press the can into the cup. I did. An example of what happens when masculinity is forced upon something. The can is also a reference to Cady Noland’s 1989 installation titled “This Piece Has No Title Yet.” The installation consisted of hundreds of Budweiser cans lining the walls, a few sparsely placed American flags, and some ladder topped steel construction scaffolding. These objects came together to create a familiar, yet melancholic view of America. Art writer Martin Herbert reads Noland’s critique of America via Budweiser, by saying, “[t]here are no safe places. The red, white, and blue is all over your Budweiser; your Budweiser, which you thought you voluntarily chose, was pushed at you as a pacifier.” Both metaphorically and literally. the idea that buying things is the only way to make one happy or fill one’s void of boredom, is the pacifier the capitalism feeds us. Obviously, the beer itself is also a literal pacifier; allowing us to inebriate our reality away.