Thanks, I needed that

As a follow up to my post on Bush's imprompto massage of Chancellor Merkel, Laying on of Hands, the West Coast Version of Maureen Dowd, San Francisco Gate columnist Mark Morford provides his take on the incident in Bush Gropes, Planet Cringes / Knead a German chancellor, banter dumbly, reveal global ignorance. It's Dubya abroad!

As Morford says:

Now we know.

I mean, we sort of thought we knew, before, what kind of guy George W. Bush is, essentially our very own inept, inarticulate ex-alcoholic ex-frat-guy failed-businessman pseudo-leader who famously appeals to the most God-fearin' and least educated and least attuned among us because he is, well, one of them. We thought we had him pegged: Just a casual and aw-shucks sort of walkin', talkin', war-happy embarrassment to the country who was rumored to be a Genuinely Nice Guy in person but who, when he traveled abroad, nevertheless caused the entire nation to pre-emptively cringe in preparation for all sorts of imminent humiliations and lots of hilarious-yet-excruciating new material for "The Complete Bushisms."

But every so often we get a glimpse of just a little more. Or, rather, less. Of what lies just beneath that carefully controlled sheen of White House spin, what happens when Dubya is away from his handlers and his prefab scripts. We get a hint of just what fuels that clueless amble, that Chosen One bumble, that graceless and decidedly dorky sort of approach to everything from ordering a Diet Coke to comprehending Middle East chaos.

* * * *

Here is Dubya, strolling speedily into a G-8 summit meeting where powerful, intent world leaders are already gathered to discuss, presumably, serious issues of the day, walking straight up to a seated German Chancellor Angela Merkel and giving her a weird, unsolicited shoulder rub from behind, before dashing to his seat. Oh yes he did.

* * * *

Dubya is, of course, oblivious. His expression is his classic blank "Who, me?" stare that recalls a child caught eating a live grasshopper. He looks right past Merkel and quickly dashes away as though nothing had happened, as if the powerful German leader didn't just recoil visibly at his very touch.

* * * *

Some might argue that Merkel, despite the obvious recoil, actually smiles a little after Bush grabs her (it is a little difficult to tell if it's a wince or an awkward smirk -- either way, she was more than a little shocked). Some might even suggest that Merkel and Bush have a "special" sort of odd, chummy relationship . . . . And hey, maybe they're right. Then again, this was a G-8 summit. Israel and Lebanon are burning. Iraq is in tatters. North Korea is spitting on the world. Global leaders are gathered to discuss the most pressing and violent issues on the planet, many of which the Bush administration had a clammy hand in exacerbating. Might not be the best time for the leader of the free world to give a cheesy frat-guy neck rub to his German gal-pal in front of the world media. You think?

See, now we get it. This is the bottom line, the final truth, George W. Bush in a nutshell. Bush thinks he is That Guy. The one everybody just loves to have around, the one who sincerely thinks his goofy charm is so appealing and so innocuous and so licky-puppy friendly that he can get away with all sorts of casual infractions and weird gestures no one else would care to attempt lest they appear, you know, dorky as a pinwheel hat.

And you know what? Bush really is That Guy. Just not in the way he wants to think.

In other words, he is indeed That Guy, like the best man at the wedding party, the one standing out in the center of the room, casually and cluelessly telling off-color jokes that offend everyone but which he thinks are gul-dang hilarious and, hell, if you're offended then you're just some gul-dang hippie liberal. Haw.

He is That Guy. The one who thinks he is everybody's bestest pal, the guy everyone wants to kick back with and have a few brewskies and chat about baseball and lawn fertilizer and Jesus. After all, isn't that what we all desire of the man who decides some of the most difficult, deadly, complicated issues on the planet? Isn't that slacked, frat-guy goofiness exactly what you want trying to broker peace in the Middle East and understand global warming and stem-cell research? Sure it is.

Just watching Bush in those unguarded moments, chatting while eating a roll, walking by and grabbing Merkel in a shoulder "rub," you realize that Maureen Dowd and Mark Morford have truly described the Bush persona. And they speak truth, not truthiness.

See also: William Pitt at Truthout, The Ballad of Dumb George.

(Photo via Talking Points Memo)

Tags: Bush, G-8, Merkel