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Alan Keyes

He's running for President again. He's never been elected to anything, but yet he keeps on running.

In 1988, Alan ran for the Senate against Maryland Democratic incumbent Paul Sarbanes. He came up short with only 38% of the vote. In 1992, he ran against Maryland's other Senator, Democrat Barbara Mikulski, but got only 29%.

So, naturally, what fool wouldn't think the next logical step would be to run for President. He ran in 1996, winning not one delegate, and damned if he isn't trying again. So what makes this modern-day Harold Stassen tick?

Apparently, Alan enjoys what little attention he gets, no matter how inconsequential. And he does get noticed -- mainly, that he's the black guy that's running. He serves a useful purpose for the Republicans. He gives them the right to say, "hey, we got a black guy running. Do you?" He's no Colin Powell, but at least he's black.

But it's only fair to say Alan is known for more than just his skin color. He has established himself as the loudest, angriest, most hotheaded opponent of abortion. He can whip a room of activists into a salivating frenzy with his uncompromising burn-down-the-house oratory. Under a President Keyes, rape and incest victims would have to grin and bear it. He has even compared abortion to slavery. It's a lousy analogy, so I won't bother explaining it, but the anti-abortion folks really dig it.

A Baltimore radio talk show host, Alan got his start in the State Department and the United Nations during the Reagan administration. He upset many blacks then by loudly opposing economic sanctions against South Africa's apartheid regime. In 1987, he left the State Department in protest, saying they didn't value his advice.

In 1992, just before the Republican Convention got underway in Houston, he blasted party leaders, calling them racists who had ignored and criticized his Senate campaign because he was black. Two months later, they cut off financial aid, realizing he was a lost cause.

That same year, he got in trouble after admitting that he had paid himself an $8,500 monthly salary from political donations. Although the salary was legal, it didn't look kosher. The Maryland GOP chairwoman had advised him not to dip into campaign funds, but he did it anyway.

Financial improprieties arose again in 1995 when his presidential campaign wrote $20,000 in bad checks and couldn't account for a $38,000 cash balance it had two months earlier.

In 1996, Atlanta police detained him for trying to crash a televised debate between three of his opponents -- a debate to which he hadn't been invited. Maybe the police thought he had escaped from a mental hospital. It's easy to make that mistake when he starts ranting.

His old Harvard roommate, William Kristol, editor of The Weekly Standard, had some good advice for him: if you run two losing Senate races and a presidential campaign, you begin to look a little kooky.