I Wanna Be Your Dictator

Everything in this blog is just my opinion, not fact. The views here are mine and not those of any organization, person, or sentient cat. If you take this seriously, that’s on you—proceed with caution and maybe a sense of humor.

Let me start by saying that for most of 2024, I was politically hyperactive—like a ferret on triple espresso. The last thing I wanted was for that person (you know who) with 34 felony convictions to waltz back into power, possibly wearing a crown and a sash that reads "King of Bad Ideas." Honestly, the felony convictions are the least alarming things about him, which is saying something, because most people stop at one felony. But not this individual. This person’s felonies come in bulk, like Costco-sized packs of bad behavior.

Anyway, my political investment didn’t just pop up like a surprise zit. It’s been simmering since before even October 13, 2020, when I originally published Will You Shut Up Man?—a title that may or may not have been inspired by a historic moment of televised political malfunction.

Enter Mid-August, 2024: The Songwriting Phase

Fast forward to mid-August 2024, when I realized I had this rockin’ piece of music that needed lyrics. And by “needed,” I mean, “these lyrics basically wrote themselves in three minutes.” This wasn’t some artsy process with candles and soul-searching—it was raw, honest, and possibly fueled by leftover pizza. Here’s what spilled out of my brain:

I wanna be your dictator 

Take and take from you never give back later

I wanna be your dictator 

Amplify my hate and join me the hater

There’s nothing for you but empty pockets

But you’re dumb enough to not see through the nonsense 

I have no plans no substance to articulate

The more I talk nonsense the more you think I’m great

I am unholy so buy my Bibles

I need all the money for my lifestyle 

The uneducated parade for me en masse

They don’t even care that I see them as trash

Simple-minded fools you can’t send me to jail

I’ll throw another coup in honor of myself 

Cokey vibe son and a serial killer-looking one

Entitled dumb but when they preach you lick it up

I wanna be your dictator

I wanna be your dictator

risen to be an unstoppable traitor 

Flea market knockoff of a past that was greater

I wanna be your dictator

Don’t rewatch all of my incoherence later

I want to be your dictator 

Humble brag about myself, no one is greater

I surround myself with such a classless cast

If they don’t idolize me enough they won’t last

I babble on like the idiot we know I am

But it doesn’t stop me from running my scam

All the rejects and plastic clown wannabes

They’ll sell their souls just to be seen with me

And when the news says I’m a fraud and cheat

with all their proof I’ll say they’re out for me

I’ll spread my message of lies and hate

The corrupt rich will help to seal your fate

Social media lies disguised as free speech

Electric car weirdo guy is nothing but a creep

I wanna be your dictator

I wanna be your dictator

risen to be an unstoppable traitor 

Flea market knockoff of a past that was greater

I suck dictatorship air out of the room

Everyone knows I’m Mother Russia’s little stooge

For everyone knows I have no clue

And our country’s enemies know just what to do

And if you’re woman you should trust me too

You now have less rights thanks to me it’s so true

I rigged the courts to take that away from you

I hope my red hat cult will cancel your vote for blue

I’m such a weirdo, I found a weirder one

He is so awkward, creepy, never answers anyone

The harder he tries the more he’s so out of touch

Can’t even order donuts without tooling it up

Guyliner whiner pretty it up for the couch and such

They’re eating the dogs and cats, no, he just made up

Kind of like his names didn’t like the first couple much

Cross-dressing golden tinsel hair dumb luck 

I wanna be your dictator

I wanna be your dictator

risen to be an unstoppable traitor 

Flea market knockoff of a past that was greater

Labor Day Weekend: Pneumonia and Poor Timing

So there I was, ready to record my lyrical masterpiece when fate smacked me with a wicked cough. It wasn’t the polite kind of cough you can excuse with a sip of water—it was the kind of cough that makes your neighbors Google, “how to evict plague carriers.” By Thursday night, I was coughing so hard I practically auditioned for The Walking Dead without leaving my bed. By Monday, I wasn’t convinced I’d live to see my doctor on Tuesday.

Cue the dramatic Urgent Care visit. Diagnosis? Pneumonia. Fun fact: Pneumonia is not fun.

But because I’m stubborn, I eventually recorded the song on September 21, 2024. My lungs were still on strike, so I had to break the verses into two parts and add a lead guitar fill between to cover my wheezing. I like to think this is how rock legends handle adversity.

Music Video Adventures

Meanwhile, my inner 12-year-old who grew up glued to MTV (back when it played music videos) decided, "Hey, we need a music video for this!" And not just any video—a claymation-styled music video starring the fictional President Swine and his VP Piggy Liar Liar. Because why keep it simple when you can go full nerd?

The Labor Day debacle of a weekend turned into a late-September late-night scene-by-scene video-making frenzy. Designing clips for each lyric took just a few hours, proving that even faking claymation can be more efficient than Congress. The total cost? $2,934.74 for the video, music equipment, and recording. A bit more than I wanted to spend, but if this were the '90s, it would’ve cost more than my house. Progress!

I made a token appearance in the video because the piggy clips were being...difficult (costly). To resolve my camera shyness, we borrowed inspiration from '90s music videos like Veruca Salt’s Volcano Girls: a strobe light, some shadows, and just enough mystery to make people wonder, “Is that a person or a cryptid?” Close enough.

The video hit YouTube, via Vevo, and AppleMusic around October 6, 2024. Did it go viral? Not exactly. Did it trigger some algorithmic "bad boy" label on X (formerly Twitter)? Absolutely. Apparently, my antics got me temporarily "labeled," which I assume is the online equivalent of sitting in the corner with a dunce cap. Clearly, in some way, shape, or form I violated their terms of service, with my spammy (maybe here we say hammy) sharing of the music video everywhere I could on X. Am I mad about it? Not really. More on that another time perhaps.

The Bigger Picture

The video wasn’t just about entertainment. It was my tiny contribution to the fight against fascism—because, spoiler alert, fascism is bad. Shocking, I know. The goal was to support candidates who so genuinely believe in helping regular folks, not relying on hollow slogans and promises they never intend to fulfill. Did I do enough? Probably not. Did any of us? Doubtful. But we’ll try again in two years, and again in four. Because democracy isn’t a sprint—it’s a marathon, only with way more yelling.

If you’d like to support this song and video—and, let’s be honest, fund future songs, videos, and the occasional piece of equipment—I enthusiastically invite you to contribute. Or, if you’re feeling particularly daring, you could do something absolutely wild, like actually buy the song or video. Don’t feel obligated, though. To date, this artistic juggernaut has raised less than a single penny, and that’s OK. Really. We’re aiming for financial performance somewhere between “gas station tip jar” and “lost couch change,” and so far, we’re crushing it. Contribute Here