person as well.

Although many professional politicians in the United States still scoff at the notion, it now seems conceivable that Texas billionaire and Tucker's Town home owner Henry Ross Perot will be elected president in November.

In one of the most remarkable ascents in US electoral history, the latest voter surveys show Perot surging ahead of both Republican President George Bush and likely Democratic challenger Bill Clinton.

Analysts associated with one or the other of the country's major parties are still insisting, though with diminished conviction, that the Perot phenomenon will fade by autumn.

Once voters become better acquainted with the independent candidate's actual policy positions, the argument goes, they will return to their traditional allegiances.

Pundits point out that no presidential hopeful running without Republican or Democratic support has even come close to capturing the White House in the past 80 years.

In 1980, for instance, third party insurgent John Anderson scored high in the polls right through the summer, only to finish far behind Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter when the votes were counted.

But Perot has one key asset that all the quixotic contenders have lacked: an unlimited supply of money. He has promised to spend at least $100 million on his campaign -- an amount that would far outstrip the funds available to either Bush or Clinton.

Perot, unlike the Republican or Democratic nominee, can afford to forego partial public financing of his presidential bid, and so he will not be legally bound to observe any limitation on private contributions, including from his own pocket. And with an estimated personal worth of $3 billion, Perot's pockets are virtually bottomless.

Although their mood could change, voters currently do not appear much bothered by Perot's stated intention of buying his way into the Oval Office. Their indifference in this regard reflects deep disgruntlement with the US political system, which is seen as hopelessly ineffective.

Combined with the gradual weakening of the two major parties to the point where neither commands much loyalty, this widespread yearning for an end to the status quo appears to make 1992 significantly different from other election years.

But in the public mind, the 61-year-old computer magnate is still much more imagined than known. Three months after bursting onto the political scene, Perot remains a basically mythical figure, perceived almost solely through the filter of television talk shows. His skilled public relations team has managed, so far, to depict Perot largely in a manner of his own choosing.

He has come to represent a composite of American archetypes: the valiant cowboy (his tough-talking, Texan background), the self-made businessman (his rapid rise from rags to riches) and Rambo (his sponsorship of a private commando unit that rescued Perot employees from an Iranian jail).

Perot's aura may not continue to shine so brightly for much longer, however.

The press is only now beginning to excavate Perot's past and to scrutinise his views in the same way that Clinton's background and outlook have been painstakingly probed. Tarnish is already appearing.

It has lately been revealed, for example, that Perot had close ties with former president Richard Nixon, who resigned from office in order to avoid impeachment for the Watergate scandal.

Perot's carefully constructed image as a free-wheeling entrepreneur has also been damaged by accounts of how he persuaded federal government officials in the mid-1960s to award highly lucrative contracts to his then-fledgling computer firm.

Besides being ideologically confusing, much of Perot's message is deliberately vague. He insists, for instance, that the enormous federal budget deficit can be sharply reduced by "curbing bureaucratic waste.'' And he has yet to explain specifically how he would approach issues in the areas of trade, the environment, education, health care and race relations.

But whatever Perot eventually says or does not say on these topics may not matter so much as is now presumed. Segments of the electorate are in so nihilistic a mood at the moment that they may well cast a ballot for Perot precisely because no one really knows what he would do in the White House.