Off the Charts Avarice

Remember when a million dollars was a lot of money? It could solve all your problems and secure you for life. The Barenaked Ladies once sold quite a few records by imagining the possibilities of being a millionaire. And while many of their silly ideas were written just for laughs, the message was clear: A million dollars can get you pretty much anything.

Now, in what is either an alarming commentary on inflation or a gross display of greed, Travie McCoy and Bruno Mars yearn for a whopping billion dollars in the hit song, “Billionaire.” Not just two or three, or even a hundred million dollars, but 1,000 times more than BNL's modest request. Talk about ambitious. The only songwriter with that kind of paper stack is Sir Paul McCartney. And he got there by singing about how he didn’t care too much for money.

Mars even admits to seeing his name in shining lights every time he closes his eyes. Again, this is pretty ambitious for a couple of guys whose names I had to look up just a paragraph ago.

I have to give the kids some credit. They do have some noble plans. Adopting poor kids, giving away luxury cars and helping hurricane victims is all well and good. But when he starts each proposal with “I’d probably,” his conviction seems less sincere than a common campaign promise. His pledge to “probably pull an Angelina and Brad Pitt” is even less believable than the idea that Obama would probably end the war.

One of the more imaginative lyrics of the song is when Mars shares that wants to be on the cover of Forbes magazine, “smiling next to Oprah and the Queen.” I imagine this would be Forbes’ attempt to find the world’s strangest triumvirate of billionaires. Perhaps it would appear in a three-part series showcasing diverse tycoons and starry-eyed singers. This month: Mark Cuban, Warren Buffet and Lil Wayne. Next: J.K. Rowling, Steve Jobs, and La Roux.

McCoy would hardly feel out of place with business magnates either. He is so confident in his ability to handle financial matters that he even offers to take a crack at saving the economy from recession. But considering that his plans include tossing “a couple milli in the air just for the heck of it,” I’m not so enthused about the prospect of him fixing the nation’s deficit.

After saving New Orleans from ruin and balancing the budget, McCoy
turns his attention to the White House:
I'll be playing basketball with the president.
Dunking on his delegates.
Then I compliment on his political etiquette.

First of all, Travie, the president does not have delegates; states and parties do. I'm not sure what his idea of political etiquette is, but I can't imagine constituents would approve of elected officials spending their time in Washington playing pickup games against one-hit wonders. Moreover, who the hell does this washed-up gym class hero think he is that the leader of the free world needs his approval? Is McCoy so delusional that he 1.) thinks he knows anything about politics, let alone is in a position to tell the President that he is getting the hang of it; or 2) believes that the President gives a shit what he thinks?

Before writing this entry, I toyed with the idea that the song was written merely to draw attention to the diminishing value of the U.S. dollar. Maybe a million dollars just isn't enough to make one's dreams come true anymore. But now I realize that these dreamers are far too out of touch with reality to be concerned with inflation. Their motives are not altruism, political reform or creating awareness of financial issues. These guys want a billion dollars and they want it bad. How bad, you ask? So bad, it drives them to swearing. McCoy and Mars should be careful. Using such foul language might hurt their chances of securing their billion(s).The only other thing holding them back is talent.