Monica Yant Kinney: Why aspire to a cipher's job?

Dana Redd recently unveiled a slick new Web site - http://unitedforchange09.com - and a catchy R&B campaign ditty in her quest to be the next mayor of Camden.

Redd seems like a smart, capable public official, but I'm not feeling the United for Change vibe. And it's not because she totally ripped off Barack Obama's swooshy campaign logo, which, while not illegal, is kind of lame.

For starters, there's the fact that Redd is a state senator, vice president of Camden City Council, and the latest golden girl of the Camden County Democratic Party, which is on the verge of dominating South Jersey the way the communists control China.

There's no shame in being a machine candidate, but if that's who you are, embrace it. Don't pretend to be a change agent who'll shake up the system.

The bigger issue is just how ludicrous it is that anyone is running to be mayor of Camden.

The city has been under state control since 2002, rendering its mayor a glorified bobblehead. She gets a $103,000 salary, a social schedule and a swivel chair. Major decision-making is left to outsiders.

In exchange for a pot of cash to aid the ailing city, Camden has seen its mayorship transformed into a legally sanctioned low-show job that makes a mockery of self-rule. If Gov. Corzine really wanted to save a few bucks, he'd mothball the office.

I've always gotten a kick out of Mayor Gwendolyn Faison. She's the only 84-year-old grandmother I know who wears leather pants. And she speaks her mind, to the horror of her handlers.

Faison is the rare Camden mayor not to wind up in prison - though, admittedly, it's hard to get arrested for cheerleading, which is all she's allowed to do.

Camden is ruled now, and will be until 2012 - or 2017 - by a chief operating officer who serves at the governor's pleasure under the terms of the $175 million revitalization law that was supposed to turn the city around but hasn't.

Retired Superior Court Judge Theodore Z. Davis is no ordinary overlord. He's the single highest-paid public employee in New Jersey, earning $220,000 a year to steer the state's poorest city.

Davis is so powerful, he fired Faison's assistant and didn't even bother to tell the mayor beforehand.

"I have been completely ignored," Faison griped at the time.

I asked his staff if Davis plans to share power with the next mayor, and got a stock answer via e-mail that said only that he intends to comply with the law.

Translation: No.

Under the circumstances, Redd's U-U-U-United for Change drum beat falls flat.

On her Web site, Redd says public safety is her number-one issue, but she neglects to mention that the state and the county prosecutor's office control the police department.

Education is goal number two, not that Redd would have any say over Camden's schools, either. Even the city school board is powerless to Corzine's veto.

The more I read, the more I wondered why anyone would want to be mayor of this mess.

"Camden," Redd explained, "is my first love."

Given the snail's pace of the city's recovery - violent crime and the economy aren't helping - isn't it probable that Camden would remain under the state's thumb for her entire first term?

"You definitely have the power of the office, a bully pulpit," Redd told me. "In time, I'm confident [state oversight] will end."

Other than being eternally optimistic, she offered few specifics about how she would manage being a mayor with no muscle.

Since most folks consider Redd's election to be a sure thing, perhaps she's preparing for the inevitable:

Not having much to say, because when you're Camden's mayor, there really isn't much to do.