South Carolina sits 1,200 miles geographically southeast of Iowa, but culturally a million miles. When I move there for my usual two or three months a year in early summer, I sometimes feel as though I've been transported to a different planet.

South Carolinians speak a charming version of English and drive on the right side of the road, but similarities end there. Especially when it comes to their Republicans.

South Carolina's Republican Gov. Mark Sanford will probably still be governor of the "Palmetto State" when you read this. Last Monday his fellow Republicans voted to censure him, but stopped short of calling for his resignation.

He couldn't get elected to run a school board meeting, much less to a real political office. And when he travels the state these days, he offers no speeches or interviews. He's a phantom skulker of a governor.

Unlike Sarah Palin, who had no trouble resigning her governorship for no clear reasons, Sanford has created plenty of reasons to hit the road:

Lying to his family and staff about why he left the state last month.

He told everyone he was hiking alone in the Appalachian Mountains. In reality, he visited his soulmate mistress for five days in Buenos Aires.

Incognito.

Hypocritically trumpeting family values while betraying his own family.

Abandoning the state. Since the head buck disappeared, no one knew where the buck stopped.

As a lifelong Iowan, I've been trying to imagine how my fellow Iowans would have responded had Chet Culver driven himself to the Des Moines airport and flown to meet his mistress in, say, Belize. And then returned and held two press conferences about his soulmate, the Belizean Bombshell, and tearfully confessed to being lovesick.

Through trembling lips, Chet Culver would admit that though he loved his wife and family, he left his heart in the tropics.

Hearing all this from our stolid governor, Iowans would have collectively fainted dead away. And not gotten up for several minutes.

Still groggy, we could only imagine that an alien (from South Carolina?) had invaded Culver's body. "What have you done with Chet Culver?" we would shout at this alien lovesick soul. Then we would assume insanity had destroyed his ability to govern.

In another minute or two he would be shown the door, given the boot, tossed out on his ear so fast his podium would still be warm after he hit the street. Gov. Patty Judge would barely have time to wave goodbye.

Iowans, in other words, wouldn't stand for such a blatantly incompetent, irresponsible leader for more than a few working minutes.

Yet South Carolina Republicans keep their resident political joke in office. Why? I asked several native Republicans about this, and they collectively offer three answers.

1. Andre Bauer, the separately elected lieutenant governor, would be worse. He's not only utterly inexperienced, he has a reputation as a "skirt chaser" and a ne'er-do well that no one trusts. Worse, as an incumbent, Bauer might actually get elected in 18 months. For Republicans, that's a fate worse than Sanford. Believe it or not.

2. The South Carolina state legislature is so full of incompetents and "slugs" that by comparison Sanford looks good. He's merely the head slug.

3. The governor's office has nil real power. White South Carolinians after the Civil War feared that a former slave might get elected governor, so they removed most of that office's power. Though Sanford can't do much good as a lame duck lovesick soul, he can't do much harm, either. That's good enough for the state's Republicans.

Thanks to the Republicans, the ship of the State of South Carolina founders, dead in the water. I'm back in Iowa, feeling thankful to be home, and even more thankful for our Democrats.