Yep. That's our boy Bush.

The Guardian, The Independent of London, The Telegraph and the rest of the English press are having a field day, offering "FULL COVERAGE OF MEMOIR" daily, basically going berserk over Bush's new book. The articles and analysis offer little assistance into our presidential phenomenon, but the comments section, priceless.
Won't even try and isolate the best bon mot but the absolute acrimony, the sheer animosity and utter annoyance, the fanatically antagonistic behavior of the oft literate, cerebral and physically funny british git whisking their own 'memoir' is worth a glance. 

Apparently our boy can really reminisce, so full of sunny insouciance, or so he would have us think and yet both he and Blair appear so baffled by the world's opinion of them. Does Bush have any regrets? No, not really. He's so effortless, in both endeavor and review. Like people that need to exercise complete control his laugh sounds utterly manufactured but provides a unique signature.
"Heheheh, they thought I couldn't read a book, let alone write one"...of course he didn't write the book, but that's irrelevant, Memoir, for today's political figure, who is in fact today's celebrity, is all about rehabilitation. It's about getting on the couch and conquering their inner conflict, the fight within, a battle that must be one over their true nature. Their beliefs and emotional investment are so severe in their situational morality there's scant room for anything other than their own world view.