Tsongas admitted that he raised more money in the three days after New Hampshire than in the nine months leading up to it. One might think that his pro-business message would have been a natural for corporate donors.

But if they were so impressed by Tsongas' message, they had plenty of time to give money in the year-long period that Tsongas had been stumping. What changed wasn't the message, but that Tsongas won New Hampshire. Suddenly, he looked electable. Suddenly, it was his influence the Wall Streeters were after.

The point is that big money follows the front-runner. Bill Clinton's huge war chest proves that. As G.W. Dumhoff documented in The Powers That Be (1978), it doesn't matter whether the candidate is a Democrat or a Republican--fat cats want a stake in the winner. In fact, a 1972 study showed that 36 percent of contributors who gave $10,000 and up contributed to candidates of both political parties.

The point of Jerry Brown's focus on money and power is that he wants to empower regular people and pull them back into the system. Voter participation rates have followed a declining trend, and voter apathy appears to be reaching an all-time high--either because people are unimpressed by the candidates or feel that they can't influence them.

Money has a lot to do with that. It has dead-locked the political process and stacked it in favor of the wealthiest interests. Ineffectual policies regarding the environment, tax reform, health care, energy and campaign finance all result from the undue influence of these interests.

But Brown has attempted to show that telephone technology (of all things) can actually circumvent the conventional channels for reaching out to the public. And laugh as much as you want--it's kept him in the race.

ONE REASON THAT Brown may have been ignored or characterized as flaky by the media--even after winning three states and finishing a close second in several others--is that he has refused to play by their rules. Television stations have received millions of dollars from the other candidates for paid advertisements, but much less from the Brown campaign. Brown has rejected $1000-a-plate dinners and eschewed most 30-second commercials.

Discounted by the media with the two-word epithet "Governor Moonbeam," Brown was relegated to the second tier from the start. He doesn't have wellpaid publicists, speech writers or pollsters. With only seven paid people and all the rest volunteers--unheard of in a national campaign--he managed to outlast many rivals.

But even many of those who understand Brown's message of political stagnation stop short of supporting him. Some claim that they'd vote for him if only they thought he was electable. That's something I've heard again and again--and it's part of the process that Brown's talking about.

We have come to a point in our history where ideas may languish because of overzealous political punditry. People feel that elections are decided in advance by political consultants and media commentators. Indeed, as the drama, is played out--in a series of out-takes and sound-bites--these commentators have a vested, professional interest in making sure the outcome coincides with their predictions.

Others claim that Brown is disingenuous because as the chair of the Democratic Party of California, he was a master at fundraising who even opposed limitations just two years ago. Indeed, Brown raised millions of dollars during his period in office. And it was because of that experience that he realized how pervasive a hold money has on the system. If from his experience Brown doesn't have the right to expose the system and try to reform it, who will step forward?

It certainly won't be George Bush. Or Bill Clinton.