Oh, right, that guy

His face, like Nixon’s, should probably be shamefully totemic.

Yet subjected to repeated shots of Bush, interpolating them into the game as I would any other recognizable face in a baseball stadum, I rarely think “arch-fiend doodler” or even “apocalyptic klutz.” He’s utterly harmless, and actually, seems natural in a way he never did while attempting to run the country… He’s no different from any number of Texas oil brats who went off and had themselves an adventure, one that involved sizable failures but never a crisis of confidence.

Like us, he seems glad the whole thing is over.

This Deadspin article, excerpted above, does a tremendous job of describing how it feels seeing The Decider night after night at the World Series. It’s not the outrage one would expect (and the man certainly deserves.)

For someone who pissed away a surplus and exploded the debt, racked up enormous deficits with tax cuts for those who didn’t them, sent thousands of American troops to their deaths via unnecessary and buffoonishly managed wars of hegemony, dragged our national reputation through the blood of Gitmo and Abu Ghraib, and was utterly unprepared to prevent and subsequently deal with the 9/11 attacks and Hurricane Katrina and the ’08 financial crisis, *deep breath*, for all his sins, when I look at George W. Bush my reaction isn’t one of anger or revulsion.

It’s an eyeroll. A “pfft.” An “Oh, right, that guy.” Maybe two out of three together. But not anything more.

Being reminded of the Bush presidency is like thinking back to something really, really dumb you did as a kid. It was wrongheaded and unpleasant and you’ll never do it again.