In the low, low-budget advertisements that seem to run constantly on television and talk radio, he’s kissed a dog, pretended to eat his daughter’s boogers and recounted how he put a business card in dead grandmother’s hand before she was buried.

But now, Schanze is envisioning ads with a different tack — though, likely, with the same manic ad-libbing that alternately makes people gag or giggle — this time, announcing Super Dell as a Utah gubernatorial candidate.

Although he doesn’t really expect to win, the 33-year-old businessman said he’ll likely put his name on the Republican ticket for governor in 2004.

Because, he said, it’s the right thing to do.

“I could do a way better job than anyone else. Period. By far. No question,” he said in the nasal tenor that is instantly recognizable, his face running through a series of expressions that brings to mind Jim Carrey on speed. “And you can’t argue with that one.”

In reality, there are some who may object to Schanze as supergovernor, notably those he has harshly criticized in paid advertisements.

If Super Dell’s wild gesturing and sing-song commercials have given him cult-hero status among television junkies, then his public skirmishes with respected institutions have also fueled his fame.

Two years ago, for example, Schanze aired a radio commercial lambasting the Better Business Bureau of Utah for giving Totally Awesome Computers an unsatisfactory rating.

“Dell plays by his own rules. He makes up the rules, he is the umpire in the game, he is the pitcher in the game,” said Russ Behrmann, president of the Better Business Bureau of Utah. “And there is no way you are going to win in that situation.”

Behrmann said TAC was initially given an unsatisfactory rating for unresolved complaints and questionable advertising practices.

Schanze sees it another way:

“There is one reason I have an unsatisfactory rating, and that is because they don’t like me. It has absolutely zero to do with the truth,” he says. “Everyone hates them with a passion, because they are Satan on earth.”

***

DellLand is a world of black and white, where good is “the best on the planet” and bad is “heinously evil.”

The uberpitchman said he feels morally compelled to put his name on the gubernatorial ballot, even while he recoils at the idea of making a mere $100,600 a year.

Schanze admits he hasn’t studied all the issues, instead focusing on running a company that he says does $2 million to $3 million a month in sales. But there are a few issues he knows he’d tackle as governor.

“Pornography, everywhere, it’s got to go. In Utah, gone, history, something’s got to be done against that,” he said. “These (topless) bars, they’ve got to go, sorry, heinous. Bye Bye. Alcohol, nothing good comes from alcohol. Probably have to do something about that.”

Super Dell plans to fund his campaign himself, using money he earns from his nine Totally Awesome Computers stores and his two other business ventures — Totally Awesome Guns and Range, and Totally Awesome Flying Sports.

He said his political ambitions were piqued, in part, by a recent tangle with Provo city that culminated in the computer king suggesting the city wasted $70,000 because they didn’t buy his Totally Awesome Computers during a recent upgrade.

Provo spokesman Michael Mower said the reason the city didn’t select TAC was simple: The company failed to submit a bid.

“We followed the law. And we followed outlined and detailed bidding procedures,” Mower said. He said several different companies submitted bids; TAC did not. Ultimately, Provo chose IBM.

Schanze countered that the city can do whatever it wants, and should have purchased from him. “The bottom line is they wasted a huge pile of money and they bought a pile of junk,” he said. It’s just more evidence that, “if they are not doing the job right, you’ve got to do it yourself.”

***

He is better looking — handsome, really — than the contorted facial muscles on his television ads suggest, but no less jittery and exuberant.

He is always on, moving to the cues of a silent, invisible director, hamming it up when a subject begins to lose interest, toning it down a notch, just a notch, when you think he might actually be the nuttiest guy on the planet.

A solid 6 feet 2 inches, Schanze breezes into the stores of his Totally Awesome kingdom telling employees to “keep up the kick-butt work.”

Today, he wears his standard uniform: a denim shirt and jeans, a back pocket weighted down by a loaded HK USP .45.

Until now, Super Dell’s most notable foray into the political arena has been to lobby in favor of gun ownership. In fact, he said he’d like his 100-some employees to carry concealed weapons at work.

“People that carry guns are some of the most down-to-earth, logical, intelligent people that you will ever know,” Schanze said.

(Not counting, it begs to be said, the ones who aren’t and who shoot people.)

He thinks about one-fifth of his staffers are currently packing heat. It prevents in-store robberies, he said, and allows employees to fight crime on the way to and from work.

Gerad Cruz, a 24-year-old tech manager at the Sandy location of Totally Awesome Computers, is not carrying a gun today — his wife won’t let him — but he says it does makes him feel secure knowing his fellow employees could defend themselves if needed.

If armed-to-the-teeth employees seem at odds with the Totally Awesome Computers philosophy of creating a loving, caring computer store, the paradox is lost on Schanze, who is as enthusiastic about the right to bear arms as he is about his belief that his self-designed computer systems are “the best on the planet.”

His obsession with security is taken a step further at his modest Salt Lake suburban home. It is guarded by two American bulldogs and a Rottweiler, as well as a chain link fence, security cameras and — according to Schanze — armed security guards at night.

If this seems an almost “X-Files” level of paranoia for a house he paid less than $200,000 for, it’s fair to say that Super Dell has made his share of enemies by speaking his mind.

***

First, there are the legal notices. He said he has a file-drawer’s worth of threats of suit and orders to cease and desist. Some companies, apparently, take issue with Schanze publicly calling their merchandise a “piece of pooh” or suggesting that one would never buy from Gateway, Compaq or Sony if one only had a brain.

Schanze has built his business by making outrageous and jarringly memorable commercials (he spends some $54,000 a month on advertising), much in the same way that the incessantly annoying Carrot Top has managed to convince a horde of Americans to dial 1-800-CALL-ATT.

Super Dell said he doesn’t take the letters from lawyers too seriously.

“If one of them sued me, I think it would be kinda cool,” he says. ” ‘Cause I’d love to take it to court and prove that they really do suck.”

One Murray dentist did actually try to take Schanze to court, with a lawsuit seeking unspecified damages for an ad in which Schanze called the dentist “heinously evil.” In 2001, a judge refused to order Schanze to stop the ads and the suit was dropped, according to news reports.

Dr. W. Henry Pond said Schanze still owes him $1,200 in service charges, but has chosen to take the loss because the money isn’t worth the ulcer further contact with Super Dell would cause.

“The last time I think I spoke to him, he told me that I was the devil incarnate and my daughter was pure evil, and I should go to church with him to increase my spirituality,” Pond said.

Schanze said he gave the dentist a full refund for the computers and was forced to air an ad setting the story straight after employees of the dentist made negative claims about TAC on the radio.

“He deserved me going after him and slapping him around and calling him Susan, 10 times over,” said Schanze. “If a company screws you over, by all means, hammer ’em into the ground, but going after a company that bends over backwards to help you, that is a heinous abomination, that is just sick … I mean, that’s like killing Jesus.”

***

A member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Schanze said religion is the carpet on which the rest of his life is built. He maintains that the secret to his success has been his pure love for customers, his ability to care about them and make them feel his concern and honesty.

In fact, he’s considering selling Totally Awesome Guns and Range because the store — with its beefy, armed salesmen, its bullet-proof vests and menacing knives — is not a place that exudes unconditional love.

If a gutsy bravado infuses Schanze’s public image, friends and family point to the private Super Dell who spends hours counseling employees and friends, a committed husband and father of three.

In 2002, Schanze spent roughly $40,000 of his own money to broadcast a 30-minute infomercial in which he encourages people to be enthusiastic, believe in themselves and spend time with their families.

Yet, intertwined with his love-thy-neighbor (and thy customer) philosophy is a temper that bristles with righteous indignation when challenged.

As early as high school, Schanze was already clashing with authority. As a junior at Timpview High School in 1986, he was kicked out for putting boards in an exit and trapping girls in a gymnasium. When confronted by the principal about creating a fire hazard, Schanze responded, “But, sir, the girls were not that hot.”

(Years later, he would flash a thick wad of cash at a Timpview High School reunion, because, “Everybody deserves to say bite me now and then, kiss my fanny.”)

The bravado and confidence that Schanze said made him a millionaire several times over by age 30 has also led to a number of accidents. For example, he earned the name “Super Dell” when he drove his motorcycle off a 60-foot cliff in Big Cottonwood Canyon and broke his back. He later lost part of his left pointer finger when he drove his motorcycle into a reflector post on a freeway.

In June, he sprained a shoulder when he flew his powered paraglider in questionable weather and used his reserve parachute to land.

Even on the ground, driving with Schanze in his 2002 Jaguar XJR-100 is a white-knuckle experience. He accelerates at G-force speeds, weaves in and out of traffic and slams on the brakes as he insists that he is “safer doing 100 than probably 99 percent of the people on the road doing 65.” Which reminds him, if elected governor, he might get rid of speed limits all together.

***

The question, ultimately, is whether or not Utah is ready for a candidate who loves them completely, packs heat, mixes religion with business and lambastes his enemies on talk radio.

Then again, if Minnesota can elect a former World Wrestling Federation star and color commentator as its governor, who is to stand in the way of a totally awesome candidatefi

“I think he has got as good a chance as anybody … He certainly is well known,” said Jonathan Deem, a 38-year-old Lehi graphic designer who runs the Web site SuperDellsucks.com.

Deem, who describes Schanze’s commercials as “torture, aural torture” said the famous shtick just might work in Utah. “I think he’s a twisted genius,” said Deem, who insists that the Web site is a joke, not a personal attack on Super Dell.

Still, the idea of a Schanze as governor overwhelms Deem.

“I may,” he said, “have to move to another state.”

By Schanze’s own admission, his cartoonish persona may ultimately hinder his gubernatorial campaign.

Then again, it just might help.

“I don’t think right now the image I’ve created, people will take me seriously enough,” he said. Then he pauses, eyes wide, a smirk on his face as he considers the totally awesome potential.

“It’s possible, it’s possible,” he says. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

Contact Elyssa Andrus at 344-2553 or at eandrus@heraldextra.com

This story appeared in The Daily Herald on page D1.