In Uncle
Tom Phantom, the familiar rhetoric of recruitment is repackaged as product,
stacked neatly in bright, consumable repetition. Each can bears the simplified
emblem of national identity, its bold colors and graphic clarity recalling the
seduction of supermarket aisles and pop art alike. Slogans oscillate between
urgency and exhaustion—“Needs You,” “Sold Out”—blurring the line between
patriotism and commodity. The work turns propaganda into packaging, asking who
is buying, who is being bought, and what remains once the shelves are cleared.
