Randy Newman dreams of a White President and a sarcasm-enabled internet


“He won’t be the brightest, but he’ll be the whitest, and I’ll vote for that!” sings Randy Newman of his dream president, drawing the reaction he got when he penned “I’m a Redneck” or “Short People.” America needs a laugh track to know what’s funny. In real life we look at each other when we don’t get something, but online, those slow on the uptake know only to be “first” with an indignant response, as usual, humorless.

Newman’s youtube vid even includes his lyrics:

I’M DREAMING

George Washington was a white man
Adams and Jefferson too
Abe Lincoln was a white man, probably
And William McKinley the whitest of them all
Shot down by an immigrant in Buffalo
And a star fell out of heaven

I’m dreaming of a white President
Just like the ones we’ve always had
A real live white man
Who knows the score
How to handle money or start a war
Wouldn’t even have to tell me what we were fighting for
He’d be the right man
If he were a (everybody!)

I’m dreaming of a white President
Someone whom we can understand
Someone who knows where we’re coming from
And that the law of the jungle is not the law of this land

In deepest darkest Africa nineteen three
A little boy says, “Daddy, I just discovered relativity.
A big eclipse is coming
And I’ll prove it. Wait and see!”

“You better eclipse yourself outta here, son
And find yourself a tree
There’s a lion in the front yard
And he knows he won’t catch me.”

How many little Albert Einsteins
Cut down while in their prime?
How many little Ronald Reagans
Gobbled up before their time?

I don’t believe in evolution
But it does occur to me,
What if little William Howard Taft had to face a lion
Or God forbid, climb a tree?
Where would this country be?

I’m dreaming –Buh buh buh buh
‘Cause things have never been this bad
So he won’t run the hundred in ten seconds flat
So he won’t have a pretty jump shot
Or be an Olympic acrobat
So he won’t know much about global warming
Is that really where you’re at?
He won’t be the brightest, perhaps
But he’ll be the whitest
And I’ll vote for that

Whiter than this?
Yes
Whiter than this?
Yes
Whiter than this?
Yes
Whiter than this?
Oh yeah

Redneck Mother Fucker

The Thinker
Brownshirt, Blackshirt, Blimp-neck, Dittohead, Wingnut, Cracker –the term you’re looking for is REDNECK. Musically, Randy Newman gave it humanity, and Jerry Jeff Walker gave it love, and the Grateful Dead tweaked his lyric to capture what I think is the essence of the good ol’ boy: his thinking man self image.

M     is for the mud flaps you got me for my pickup truck
O     is for the oil I put on my hair
T     is for T-bird
H     is for hen
E     is for Einstein’s theory of relativity, and
R     is for YOU REDNECK MOTHER!

And for good measure, Newman’s Rednecks:

Last night I saw Lester Maddox on a TV show
With some smart ass New York Jew
And the Jew laughed at Lester Maddox
And the audience laughed at Lester Maddox too.
Well he may be a fool but he’s our fool.
If they think they’re better than him they’re wrong.
So I went to the park and I took some paper along
And that’s where I made this song.

We talk real funny down here.
We drink too much and we laugh too loud.
We’re too dumb to make it in no Northern town
And we’re keepin’ the niggers down.

We got no-necked oilmen from Texas
And good ol’ boys from Tennessee
And colleges men from LSU.
Went in dumb. Come out dumb too.
Hustlin’ ’round Atlanta in their alligator shoes
Gettin’ drunk every weekend at the barbecues
And they’re keepin’ the niggers down.

We’re rednecks, rednecks
And we don’t know our ass from a hole in the ground.
We’re rednecks, we’re rednecks
And we’re keeping the niggers down.

Now your northern nigger’s a Negro.
You see he’s got his dignity.
Down here we’re too ignorant to realize
That the North has set the nigger free.

Yes he’s free to be put in a cage
In Harlem in New York City.
And he’s free to be put in a cage on the South-Side of Chicago
And the West-Side.
And he’s free to be put in a cage in Hough in Cleveland.
And he’s free to be put in a cage in East St. Louis.
And he’s free to be put in a cage in Fillmore in San Francisco.
And he’s free to be put in a cage in Roxbury in Boston.
They’re gatherin’ ’em up from miles around,
Keepin’ the niggers down.

Costa Rica a prototypical Western Democracy

PUERTO JIMINEZ, CR- Touring Costa Rica has been interesting. Considering the turmoil of Central America, it may be a shining example of a functional Capitalist Democracy. It´s got a healthy middle class and a relatively contented populace. Can it offer a lesson to its strife torn neighbors? Sure. Get rid of the Indios.

Citizens of the “Rich Coast” pride themselves on being light skinned, owing to a Spanish heritage of course. They´re the descendants of settlers, mixed some with labor imports from the Caribbean. But the indigenous people are gone. Which makes for scarce land redistribution demands.

When Columbus first came to Costa Rica, there were 400,000 inhabitants. When they saw that the Spaniards were enslaving whoever they conquered, the tribes hid in the mountains. As a result, Costa wasn´t properly subjugated like elsewhere. The Spanish didn´t want land that didn´t come with ready slave labor. But hiding didn´t save the indians. As the Spanish settled the land, the original population dwindled, to 10%, then 2% within 200 years. They are, as Randy Newman sang it: “Gone, real gone.”

There is an inspiring history to Costa Rica´s present relatively egalitarian government, and I´m going to write more about some of their laudable leaders. But I have to argue that CR smacks of US artifice. And lo, even as I cringe at the camo themed souvenir caps that remind me of the Contras, it turns out Oliver North operated his Contra army and drug smuggling operation out of an airfield in northern Costa Rica. There´s a surfing destination near there called Ollie´s Point, named after the would be filibuster himself. Those apolitical surfer fucks.

(It is hard to surpress disdain for the hard-recreating American asses despoiling CR toilet paper. I cannot bear their vibes of inutile indifference.)

So the Costa Ricans are less Central Americans than good old Americans. And that never meant Native American.

The material divide, affluence conspicuous in absentia

When you see luxury condos, they so often appear uninhabited. At least, you rarely see someone at the window, or on the balcony or in the drive. Seaside residences are like this too. Walk the beach, look up at the multimillion dollar homes, rarely anyone home.

Is this because those properties remain unsold? The real estate is too expensive for you, maybe nobody can afford them? Hardly. This phenomenon has to do with what separates affluence from the rest of us. Those who can afford million dollar lofts, condos, or estates, can afford several. They’re only ever 25% home. When they shop, they buy multiples of everything for each home, lest they have to pack between trips.

One of my favorite show-biz verite moments is captured on Randy Newman’s concert album Live at the Paladium. During an instrumental segue, Newman attempted to make small talk with Linda Ronstadt, with whom he was singing a duet. “How many houses do you have?” he asked her. Ronstad offered only a smile as Newman kept playing. “You know, most of these people only have one home.”