Jeb Bush Is Just The Baby Brother Who Wants To Play With The Big Boys
Jeb Bush is just the baby brother that wants to play with the big boys. He’s the younger sibling that lurked around the older kids, poking and bothering them as a childish attempt to garner attention and affirmation. He’s the baby boy mom would find crying in his room because no one wanted to play with him.
While his father George H.W. Bush ruled the household, instilling a national legacy of watered-down Reaganism and a soft victory over the Soviet empire, little Jeb played tennis and failed his classes at boarding school until he eventually worked up to honor roll status in his senior year.
Here’s young Jeb with his grandpa Preston, internally screaming, “HI DAD, DO YOU LOVE ME YET?!”
Technically a middle child, trailing second out of five after his older brother, the later-President George W., I imagine Jeb’s young life as a perpetual emotional-storm of pleas for confirmation of his masculinity, a series of vulnerable yet guarded motions towards his dad and older brother, expressing his deepest desire: “Hey guys! I can play too!”
While his dad was in office, Jeb volunteered as an unpaid intern for years–“paying his dues” and expressing great respect for his father, who likely shook his head in the White House, thinking: “Aww, my little Jeb is trying to hang again.”
While George W. Bush was running for president, Jeb held down the governance in Florida during the famous Florida recount. Although the votes cut close, his brother mysteriously came out on top. Jeb had no comments for the suspicious public, but likely felt the courage thereafter to initiate a new fist bump with his older bro.
This picture shows the brothers embracing, Jeb clutching Bush’s shoulders with the force of so much need. Why don’t they hang out more? Why does George W. Bush get to be the hott one AND president?! Life is a battlefield and Jeb’s feelings and needs are slain and bleeding.
In a breaking emotional report Jeb revealed that he loves his mother more than his father. Why is this public information, Jeb? Perhaps, after all the years of doing unpaid work for his father and bolstering the image of the Bush patriarchs, Jeb felt it was time to give the family’s equally warmongering matriarch her due. I imagine Jeb saw his mother’s life-path and thought, “She’s not president, and yet she also has unearned money and lives within the privileged hellish echo chamber of a conservative oligarchy. It’s mom that gets me!”
Hello, Jeb. I am writing directly to you now to say if there is still a part of your heart that craves humanity and connection — it’s not too late. Do you remember the early 2000s when you helped initiate conservation in the Everglades? It is not too late to choose your fate, but choose fast. I know you’re sad, you want brotherhood and fatherhood and the feel of a warm masculine hand on your back that says, “I’m proud of you, you are enough.” But meekly participating in your family’s oppressive legacy is not working out for you, and it’s definitely not working out for those of us you are actively oppressing.
Put down the baseball mitt, because dad’s tired and he sure as hell isn’t going to play catch with you after his long days perpetuating the ruin of America. Look in the mirror, breathe deep, and say: “Fuck you, dad; fuck you, brother; I don’t need you and I quit.”
Please. For all of us.