Mark Crispin Miller

The Bush Dyslexicon

Observations on a National Disorder

An excerpt, Part 1 of 4

Introduction

George W. Bush is really not the grinning simpleton that TV has presented to us—a caricature that only serves to idealize our unelected president, however cruelly it's been rendered. The dim bulb played by Will Ferrell on "Saturday Night Live," and roasted nitely by Leno, Letterman, O'Brien and the rest, and satirized by countless political cartoonists, is, on the one hand, an appalling figure—the sort of idiot prince who might slouch in the throne of some exhausted monarchy, perhaps, but who should never sit in charge of our democracy. While shockingly out of his depth, however, that plain half-wit is himself benign—a danger only insofar as evil others might manipulate him (as in SNL's mock-soap "Palm Beach"). For all his faults, that butt is kind of "likeable," a simpleton as genial, blithe and innocent as Alfred E. Neuman (with whom our President has often been compared). He may be dumb, in other words, but he's not ambitious, and he's a real nice fella, wouldn't hurt a fly.

The overall good-naturedness of that cartoonish image has been subtly amplified by Bush's own public response to such derision. Like all postmodern politicians from Ronald Reagan on, this Bush has understood that, in the culture of TV, there is no balm like Self-Effacing Humor. However much the satire galls him, he has so far blunted the attack by seeming to take part in it himself. Thus he started, early on, to use that weary little joke about his tendency to "stress the wrong syl-LAB-ble," and told Letterman that he "would make sure the White House library has lots of books with big print and big pictures." Likewise, just before Election Day, he and Al Gore co-starred in the opening bit on "Saturday Night Live"—he riffing broadly on his own dyslexia (he said he was "ambilavent" about appearing on the show, which he at times had found "offensible"), while Gore sat stiffly sighing. That defensive comic pas de deux brought down the house—which made it clear, if further proof were needed, that such self-parody has no subversive edge at all. Far from being self-critical, in fact, the politician who cracks wise about himself (it seems to be a male thing, by and large, is actually thereby betraying a certain shamelessness, both in himself and in the culture that sits laughing with him.

And so to snicker at this President for his stupidity is not productive; for his unfitness isn't really funny—and in any case he isn't stupid. True, he is the most uneducated President in U.S. history, and probably the most illiterate, and easily among the least concerned about the contents of his mind. Although he is as overwhelmed as he appears, however, this President is not as dim-witted-or as easy-going-as TV has made him out to be. That first impression now requires a clear corrective; for, as he might say, we misunderestimate him at our peril.