That's why Utahns vote for them in droves, he figures.

Utah's redder-than-red political personality certainly isn't a result of conservative lawmakers slicing and dicing legislative districts seven years ago - even cutting an apartment complex in half - to squash eight democratic districts into four. It can't be a result of Republicans closing their primary to force Utahns to make a symbolic oath of fealty to the GOP before voting. And it isn't the spoils of a majority party caucus system that sends arch-conservative delegates to the nominating convention to silence more moderate viewpoints and candidates.

No, Lockhart says, it's because Republicans represent the "morals and ideals of Utahns." They're the good guys.

I can't argue that many Utahns are socially and fiscally conservative. Most oppose gay marriage and abortion. They want to balance the budget. And, assuming that Utah Democrats won't share the same values, they vote accordingly for the candidate with an "R" behind his or her name.

But I will quibble with Lockhart's MySpace page. The idea that Utahns vote for Republicans because they're the good guys is ridiculous. More likely, Utah's GOP has successfully manipulated and schemed to preserve its partisan dominance.

This is politics. Many Utah Democrats' hands aren't clean either. But a review of recent history - not Lockhart's lobbyist-turned-party hack version - is in order:

Remember former House Speaker Marty Stephens? He rarely let then-Minority Leader Ralph Becker speak on the House floor, ignoring Becker's flashing light for hours at a time. Other Republican lawmakers are more subtle in their attempts to muffle Democratic ideas on Capitol Hill. They routinely block minority-sponsored legislation like the pill bill, gift ban and seat-belt law, burying them in the Rules Committee or sending them to quick death in the Agriculture Committee. Then, they ignore low-income advocates and those they disagree with when such people try to speak in committee hearings.

The take-no-prisoners approach to politics extends to campaigns. Even with a supermajority, some Utah Republicans still resort to unnecessary dirty tricks. Two years ago, Wayne Niederhauser spent more than $100,000 of his own money trying to buy a seat in the state Senate.

But he was looking over his shoulder at Democratic candidate Trisha Beck. So, the final weekend before the election, his camp sent out a flyer alleging Beck wanted to legalize marijuana. Quick work, that.

The same year, the GOP worked with Parents for Choice in Education, going after anti-voucher Democratic incumbents with misleading mailings. They claimed the Democrats raised taxes, went easy on sex offenders and voted for gay marriage - but made little mention of vouchers. The campaign left the party mired in debt and led to mastermind Jeff Hartley's ouster.

When crossed by local government, Republican retribution is swift. Lawmakers fast-tracked the $35 million Real Salt Lake-Sandy bailout despite County Mayor Peter Corroon's questions about the team's finances and Salt Lake City Mayor Rocky Anderson's cheaper Fairpark proposal. And when Salt Lake County Council members balked at splitting the Granite School District, lawmakers simply cut them out of the process.

Now, with a $227 million budget at their disposal, Republicans have bricked and mortared their imbalance of power into the restored Capitol.

Both House Chief of Staff Chris Bleak and Senate Chief of Staff Ric Cantrell have new offices next to their bosses and matching $100,000 salaries paid by taxpayers - nearly equal to that of Governor's Chief of Staff Neil Ashdown. And both still occasionally dabble in GOP campaigning on the side.

Speaker Greg Curtis "is the speaker of the whole house," says Bleak. "But there's a partisan aspect to the job."

Before the remodel, Republicans and Democrats shared the same office space. But that genteel design of a less-partisan time is gone. Now, the minority lawmakers are banished one floor up.

"You're better off if you didn't know what it was like before," says Todd Taylor, state Democratic Party director.

You know. Before the good guys got hold of the floor plans.

walsh@sltrib.com