The timing of Minnesota Gov. Jesse "The Body" Ventura's visit to the Institute of Politics tomorrow could barely get better. Ventura, the former professional wrestler and one of two independent governors in the Union, is riding another wave of dubious publicity, this time after an interview in Playboy magazine in which, among other things, he said he would like to be reincarnated as a 38DD bra and proclaimed that "organized religion is a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers."

The governor's comments have prompted the outgoing chair of the Reform Party, Rusell Verney, to call for Ventura to quit the party. Religious leaders are understandably upset; Pat Robertson diplomatically said Ventura was "off his rocker" at a Christian Coalition convention last week. Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott (R-Miss.) called Ventura a "bigot." As his comments were reported in Minnesota over the weekend, Ventura's approval ratings fell 19 points. But Ventura's numbers are still high; 54 percent of Minnesotans approve of the job Ventura is doing as governor.

And why shouldn't they? It's not as if Ventura pulled off a political bait-and-switch last November. Minnesotans who voted for Ventura knew they were electing a controversial, outspoken man liable to say things that would annoy or offend large segments of the population. Indeed, for many this was precisely the reason to vote for Ventura: he was the anti-politician, speaking his mind without first taking a poll, pulling no punches. A vote for Ventura was a vote against politics-as-usual, as epitomized by Bill Clinton.

That's not to say animosity toward Clinton especially--the infamous "Clinton fatigue"--was responsible for electing Ventura. But the president, any president, sets the political tone for the country as a whole, and Clinton is certainly the most high-profile and adept practitioner of the kind of cautious, poll-obsessed politics the Minnesotans who elected Ventura were protesting against.

But, as other politicians are discovering, making outrageous public statements about organized religion isn't the only way to be an anti-politician. Republican presidential frontrunner George W. Bush's style of being the anti-Clinton is to say "fuck" a lot in front of reporters. The idea, apparently, is to jar us all by how little he cares about his image, in stark contrast to the relentlessly image-conscious Clinton. Bush also wants us to know that, unlike the legendarily wonkish president, he isn't a nerd. Has the number of abortions fallen during his governorship? "I don't know, probably down," he told Tucker Carlson of Talk magazine over the summer. Let a lesser man memorize statistics.

What Ventura and Bush have in common is that neither is afraid to shock. The difference is that for Bush, acting like a jerk seems to be a political calculation.

I don't doubt the sincerity of Ventura's views on religion or anything else, though making them public seems needlessly divisive. There is a difference between political independence and independence from the responsibilities of office--one of which is (or should be) to avoid denigrating your own constituents.

Bush doesn't do that--his anti-politician pretensions are harmless. He scoffs at statistics, but no one really minds; he swears in public, but it doesn't really offend anyone. And it seems like he's doing it on purpose, trying to cultivate an anti-Clinton image.