Super-PACs drive the political circus that has come to Ohio

The circus is in town. Escape while you can. As Republican presidential politics invade Ohio with, at this writing, a four-ring circus, the spectacle is anything but entertaining.

It will be brutal. In the days leading up to Ohio's March 6 Super Tuesday primary, the state will be ground zero for campaign commercials and billboards.

Money will make the political landscape appear omnipresent. Preserve your sanity during the primary assault with a few choice CDs for the car radio and a DVR for the small screen at home.

You won't mute all the noise that Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, Rick Santorum, and Ron Paul inflict on Ohio -- along with the unlimited clatter bought by super-political action committees -- but you can bypass it a bit. As a bellwether state, Ohio is accustomed to political bombardment every two to four years.

But this primary election will be different. It's the first presidential contest in the post-Citizens United era. With corporations and special interests free to inject as much money as they want into campaigns, expect the airwaves in Buckeye territory to be packed with propaganda.

Local television will be taken over by candidate pitches and supplementary commercials produced by the shadowy money changers who support or oppose them. Viewers won't know what hit them. Powerful donors, orchestrating the electoral process by checkbook, prefer it that way.

Wealthy benefactors who pour millions of dollars into super-PACs, especially the nonprofits that have no donor disclosure requirements, eschew the spotlight. Secretly funneling huge sums of money to outside groups that are committed to swaying polls at the 11th hour is more to the liking of the anonymous affluent.

Those with the means to buy influence heartily embrace a government of, by, and for the rich. Ordinary voters are just pawns. If all goes as planned, the electorate performs as expected and satisfies the interests of donors with significant political investments.

Production companies, voice-over talent, and TV markets revel in the unprecedented political spending, reaping windfall profits from competing camps. Campaigns with the most cash on hand buy the most airtime and bank on walking away with a win, or at least a sizable boost in the polls.

The Ohio circus features the incendiary Mr. Gingrich, who survived a floundering campaign through a single $10 million donation to his super-PAC. The gift "with no strings attached" came courtesy of casino mogul Sheldon Adelson and his wife, Miriam Adelson.

The political fortunes of front-runner Mitt Romney are buoyed by gigantic corporate interests. A pro-Romney super-PAC raised $30 million last year. A third it came from donors who gave a million dollars each.

The other GOP presidential hopefuls, neo-libertarian hero Ron Paul and social conservative Rick Santorum, are also bankrolled by big money. President Obama decries the corrosive impact of unrestricted wealth on politics, but the Democrat enjoys generous super-PAC support. His re-election campaign amassed $128 million before the first primary vote was cast this year.

Average Americans who are living paycheck to paycheck can't wrap their heads around the obscene sums of money generated to manipulate results at the polls. They can't relate to the plutocracy that passes for their democracy these days.

For the most part, they're at the mercy of the corporate colossi or handful of individuals who wield extraordinary political muscle through extremely large donations. It's a rich man's game.

The wealthiest 1 percent largely control choice for the 99 percent by financing effective marketing and media-saturated campaigns. Abundant money shapes the message that delivers results.

With enough money, core constituents will carry the day for legions of disillusioned voters who elect to pass on going to the polls because the show that came before left nothing to the imagination. Those with half a brain discern how devastating money has been to a government of the people and feel diminished.

Yet despite it all -- the Citizens United catastrophe and the hold-your-nose presidential prospects in the GOP primary -- Americans remain hungry for inspired leadership. They remain hungry for solutions to problems instead of platitudes from politicians.

Midwesterners are not easily bamboozled by flame-throwers or millionaires who feign working-class chic in jeans and checkered shirts. Don't be surprised if Ohio primary voters confound convention under the big top.

It could be worth the price of admission to the circus.

Marilou Johanek is a columnist for The Blade.

Contact her at: mjohanek@theblade.com