Just take a gander at the signs littering lawns. Voters "like Dave" or are hooked on Ralph, Keith or Jenny.

But, with some seven weeks before the primary election, a second tier of candidates hopes to break from obscurity.

Clamoring for your vote is a colorful crop that includes: A convict, a man banned from city schools, an off-road-vehicle fanatic, a colorectal surgeon who treats debates like comedy hour, and a twenty-something student who lists a link to Stewart-Colbert 2008 at the top of his MySpace page.

The lesser-known field of five hasn't raised much money - except for the surgeon. And most won't spend any, relying instead on Web sites and word of mouth.

But in their own way - and for far different reasons - each long shot is earnest about becoming mayor. Still, John Renteria, Robert Muscheck, Rainer Huck, J.P. Hughes and Quinn Cady McDonough recognize Sept. 11 may signal the end of their electoral road.

The ride should be fun nonetheless.

Take Huck - dubbed the "Un-Rocky" - a past president of Utah Shared Access Alliance, whose Web page lobs a combo of pithy punches at Rocky Anderson and the outgoing mayor's politics.

"If you love Rocky, you'll hate me," the site announces. The retired engineer insists there is a "conservative vacuum" in the race and complains none of the mayoral hopefuls is willing to "reverse the abuses of the Rocky regime."

Huck vows not to accept a penny - "on principle" - and will allow his Web site to do the talking. Let's listen.

On a downtown sky bridge: "Rocky has shown himself to be a megalomaniac of unbridled proportions with this issue. Earth to Rocky: The Mormons built this town and they own half of it. . . . In my administration, the Mormons will get what they want with no questions asked."

On environmentalism: "A mayor has no business promoting radical and misanthropic theories based on quasi-religious beliefs. The worldwide environmental movement is at its heart a pagan church."

On global warming: "Through the fear-mongering global-warming crusade, the environmentalists are now poised to take control of the world's energy supplies and to distribute them in accordance with their own warped priorities, in the grand tradition of their heroes: Chairman Mao and Stalin."

On monster homes: "The monster-house rhetoric is designed to justify diminishing private-property rights and impose a special brand of egalitarianism more commonly found in socialistic and communistic societies. . . . People who like overwhelming restrictions should move to covenant communities."

On transportation: "Automobile users pay their own way while mass transit always requires subsidies. . . . Mass transit is also vulnerable to terrorist activity and aids in the transmission of infectious diseases due to the close proximity of many people. These substantial downsides are never mentioned in the media."

Another candidate on the fringe is equally strident.

Robert Muscheck quit the race only to return when he learned none of the front-runners was willing to "cross-deputize" police with immigration enforcement.

Muscheck, whose phone number recently was disconnected, also wants to build a solar-power plant on the west side and provide the homeless with showers on wheels. Only drawback: He has no campaign structure and carries a little baggage.

Since allegedly intimidating faculty in 2002 - a court complaint says he would appear at Edison Elementary in military garb, then hurl misogynistic and homophobic verbal bombs - a court injunction prevents Muscheck from being near city schools.

Muscheck, who allegedly called for martial-arts instruction in classes and for teachers to wear uniforms, dismisses the restraining order as punishment for promoting a political agenda.

"I told the kids to sit down and eat their vegetables," he shrugs.

Hughes, a respected surgeon who has run for Congress and the state Legislature, paints quite a contrast. Again, to the Web:

"Let's make it a kinder place," Hughes' page reads. "A place where there is great success in business and greater civility among people."

The Republican also is pushing a progressive platform that includes universal health care for everyone in the city, capital homes for the homeless and expansion of mass transit.

"They told me I was a right-winger," he recalls. "I thought, 'Gosh, if there's one thing I'm not, it's right-wing.' "

And then there is Renteria, the beleaguered president of Centro Civico Mexicano, who will be dragging an ankle bracelet along the campaign trail. Renteria, a perennial candidate for one office or another, was sent briefly to jail last month for violating his DUI-related probation.

If he decides to stump, expect Renteria to champion the capital's west side. And if the past is judge, he will argue the west end is starved for attention, particularly with economic development.

McDonough, however, is more enigma. Positioned together on his MySpace page are portraits of Barack Obama, Ralph Nader and Ronald Reagan.

He says he would like to meet "those who hope for a positive change in the world . . . where the hungry are fed, where the sick are cured."

That is followed by snarky comments from his sea of online "friends."

Perhaps not surprising, the only member of the fringe field who is actively campaigning also is realistic about the odds.

"I'm kind of a wild card," says Hughes, who has raised $40,000 and spent about half on print adds and a billboard. "They say I'm in the second tier, and I think that's correct.

"I think I have a chance, but we all think we have a chance."

Despite their spunk, the so-called lower tier lurks in the basement of most polls.

Matthew Burbank, political science professor at the University of Utah, says "six or seven or eight" gaffes would have to happen to shake up the front-runners - bad news for the forlorn five.

"Even if they do participate in these kinds of debates," the professor says, "it tends to be more comic relief."

Burbank notes most city voters have some notion of the four main candidates. "The other people are literally nothing more than names. That's the definition of a long shot."

djensen@sltrib.com