A Tribute To Jeb Bush, The Saddest Little Presidential Candidate There Ever Was

It’s over. After spending more than $150 million to gather just 92,000 votes, going from presumptive frontrunner to sixth place by the Iowa caucuses and playing Milhouse to Donald Trump’s Nelson Muntz for eight agonising months, former Florida governor and human bag of laundry Jeb Bush has finally, finally, bowed out of the US Republican race.

For months before the end, Jeb’s campaign served little purpose other than as the world’s most expensive running gag; a practical joke of staggering apparatus built around one man, Truman Show-style. Now that it’s over, it’s worth reflecting on why so many people (myself included) found watching this immensely wealthy and powerful yet curiously inept man implode so fascinating.

The politics of the Bush name can’t be discounted from the collective schadenfreude surrounding him — it’s immensely satisfying to see the family that gave the US two awful Presidents fail miserably at wheeling out a third. But so much of this weird compulsion stems from the person of Jeb! himself. The Uncanny Valley is a term that describes the unsettling feeling you get from looking at not-quite-there visual representations of people — think video game characters, or Japanese game-show cyborgs.

Jeb Bush was a one-man Uncanny Valley. Watching him try to debate, appear Presidential and interact with others was like watching a robot falling over, forever. Observe.

On paper, there’s nothing specifically amiss in the video above. It’s a man talking about his honest love of technology — Jeb was proud to call himself a geek. But there’s something about it that has the quality of an ’80s horror movie. Something is palpably, undeniably wrong here.

Same with this one.

What is happening here? Did he malfunction at a crucial moment? Was a line of dodgy code responsible for him blurting out a one-liner about his foreign policy priorities, apropos of nothing, from the window of a moving car?

No one knows. Not even Jeb knows.

When he wasn’t quietly sinking into his own personal void, Jeb had an extraordinary ability to find himself playing the straight-man in ridiculous situations. Witness the time he was forced to stand there desperately, tested beyond all human endurance, while being serenaded by a deranged ukelele player, and try to work out what to do with his face.

There were moments, though, when the unrelenting misery of Jeb’s existence as would-be President was pierced by something resembling satisfaction, even joy. Take this unforgettable moment, where he gleefully struggles into a hoodie and beams with delight at its snug embrace.

So warm. So like the womb.

There are honestly too many moments like this that encapsulate why Jeb made such a compelling study to collate here: his train-wreck clashes with Trump, his consistently abominable interactions with the media, the now-legendary “please clap” quote. This is by no means a compliment, but it’s entirely accurate to say there will never be a candidate quite like Jeb Bush again.

Goodnight, sweet Jeb. Let that exclamation point go free.