Dubya Money in God’s Casino

A Hip Hop Opera in Nine Acts

Here’s the clipped version, originally written for performance outside the New York Times building off Times Square, before the 2004 U.S. election.

SCENARIO:

DUBYA MONEY is American Idol 43, a gangsta rapper fronting for the Neoconz With Attitude. Behind the scenes at Skull & Bones Records, the chimp dances to the spin from his organ grinder, DR. CHE. Together, this gruesome twosome will stop at nothing to grab back-to-back endorsements from the judges. Having hijacked America, they’re now playing for high stakes in God’s Casino, better known as the Middle East.

RAP VIDEO MONTAGE:

To the beats of FORGOT ABOUT DRE by Dr. Dre.

Dr. Che is behind the barbecue flipping steaks. In front of him, three CHEERLEADERS are waving their pom-poms beside the pool. Dubya is strutting around and making hip gestures. A corporate LOGO appears in the bottom left corner of the screen: “FAUX NEWS”. Along the base of the screen, a CAPTION appears against a red news-ticker background: “WE DISTORT, YOU GET FRIED!”. CLOSEUP on Dr. Che as he begins to rap.

DR. CHE
Y’all know me, still the same ol’ G., but I been low key.
Hated on by most these liberals wit’ no schemes,
no petrol task force teams, no Likudnik dreams
wit’ marines and my legions of two-bit mercenaries.
Mad at me cuz I can finally afford
to provide my backers here wit’ lower fees.
Got it fixed wit’ the studios and they all full of hacks
who wanna kick ass in Iraq
for the oligarchs skulkin’ in back of my House like cronies.
Did y’all think I’ma let my dough freeze?
Oh please, you better bow down on both knees.
Who’d you think tortured the whole team?
Who’d you think sold this ol’ country fallacies,
lies, spoofs and forgeries
from that crook Ahmad Chalabi
and my scribes at the Times on Street West 43?
Creatin’ a nation of dope fiends
to be sure they jus’ hangin’ in your hood.
And when yo’ armament sales weren’t doin’ too good,
who’s the Doctor they told you to go see?
Y’all better listen up closely,
all you traitors who said that my firm flopped,
or I turned soft,
y’all know the reason Enron’s Lay stayed home free.
So fuck y’all, all o’ y’all; I’m the Patriot Act, yo blow me!
If y’all wanna keep fuckin’ around wit’ me
I’ma nuke us back to a cold freeze.

DUBYA
(singing)
Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got somethin’ to say,
but nothin’ comes out when they move their lips;
just a bunch of gibberish
and motherfuckers act like they forgot about Che.