Much has been made of soon-to-be-former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevic's hair. It flips. It flops. Mostly, it piles up on top of his head. This isn't the hairstyle of a normal male politician, of course. In fact, this style seems to be largely limited to Democrats--in many cases, Democrats who double as scandal magnets.

In political hair affairs, there is but one gold standard: Jim Traficant. He stacked his hair on top of his head as if he were wearing a combover even though he had all of his follicles intact. Before getting put away six years ago on bribery charges similar to those that ensnared soon-to-be-former Alaska Sen. Ted Stevens, Traficant had the most spectacular beehive in Congress. Sarah Palin's got nothing on him.

A Traficant contemporary, Gary Condit, had impressive hair as well. He achieved his look more with the heavy use of product rather than masses of hair. But the heavens-seeking nature of his do is striking nonetheless.

Blagojevic isn't in Traficant's league. For one, Traficant spent years scoring cash and gifts from pals in the greater Youngstown area. Blagojevic has been governor for only six years, barely enough time to put away enough for a modest Lakeshore Drive love nest. And likewise, Blagojevic's hair simply doesn't rise to the same standard. Perhaps he'll have spruced it up after five-to-ten years, but for now he's strictly minor league.

If you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about, here's a sampler:

By the way, Traficant is A, Condit is B and Blagojevic is C. I apologize for the Traficant; it's one of his weaker efforts. I simply couldn't find a close-up of his brow in full bloom.

So which comes first, the propensity for scandal or the hair? I hate to blame the hair, as I've been known to affect some seriously unadult tresses in my time. I generally let things fall as they may (sometimes well down my back) and have never piled hair up on top, but nonetheless I still don't want to believe that an excess of hair leads to the sort of brain cramping that often induces scandal.

Maybe, just maybe, the problem is the pile (or in Condit's case, the product). This extra coating on the top of the head might serve as some sort of scalp blanket, and as such it ever-so-slightly singes the sensus commonus fold in the corpus callosum. Victims are left without the ability to judge what situations are fraught for personal peril (particularly of the political kind) and thus act like the "actresses" in a Girls Gone Wild video: "You want what? You'll give me twenty bucks? Hell yeah! Big money!"

The opposing argument here is that the aforementioned Sen. Stevens and former California Rep. Duke Cunningham managed perform their money whore dances without the benefit of extra hair. Well, sure. They're Republicans. They've been trained from birth to do whatever it takes to gouge the last nickel out of any potential money-making situation. Of course they're crooks.

Okay, that was a cheap shot. The truth is, crooked politicians come in all shapes, sizes, colors, genders and political parties. The important question here is: Does hair that reaches skyward predispose a politician to scandalous behavior? There's only one way to find out. I propose an experiment.

Here are the photos of the three most promising newly-elected members of Congress. I think you'll agree that their hair has potential.

A., Mark Schauer of Battle Creek, Mich., is mostly a Pat Riley-type product man. His style choice may be scandalous, but it's probably a reach to put him in this company. B., Mike McMahon, the first Democrat to represent Staten Island in ages, piles his hair on top, though it's probably thinning a bit too fast to become truly scandalous. C., Bill Cassidy of Baton Rouge, La., (A Republican! Yes!) has some classic features (plenty of hair, a propensity to push it up top), but he probably needs a bit more length and volume to become truly scandalous.

So here's our experiment: If one of these three men becomes entangled in a scandal while in office, there might be something to this hairy theory. If two or all three find themselves in hot water, I'll be applying for grant money.

Like they say in the lab, all we can do now is wait.

Jon Worley's current hairdo is, sadly, too dull to describe.