And it sucked.
It just wouldn't be summer without some lame-o remake trying to squeeze the last bit of life out of some tired old genre. No, I'm not referring to Jurassic World, although that's a good example.
I'm talking about "Jeb 2016!"
Bush: The Sequel to the Sequel.
Bush: The Day After the Next Day.
Bush Part Three: The Bushiest.
Bush Cubed.
Bushwhacked!
Just don't say Bush. It's like Voldemort: The Campaign That Dare Not Speak Its Own Name. Even Jurassic World pays homage to its Jurassic Park forebears. But John Ellis Bush would like you to forget his surname. The legacy has become a bit embarrassing for him. "Pay no attention to those Bushes behind that curtain. 41? 43? Never heard of 'em. I'm just Jeb from Florida, and I wanna be 45, OK? And remember, I'm really conservative. Really."
Jeb is from Florida like I am from Mongolia.
Grandson of Prescott, son of H.W., brother of Dubya, Jeb Bush was born to a life of privilege, influence and connections. He's American royalty, an enormous pile of cash in a nicely tailored suit.
He symbolizes what old money can do, and who they can do it to. (And in case you were going to bring it up, the Clintons are in no way equivalent. Not even close. Puh-leeze!)
Bush III would be like Jurassic World -- a hugely expensive and stale remake, historically inaccurate, and proof that we are suckers for formula. We'd be a bunch of damn fools if we let another Bush buy the White House.
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