Liberace of patronage. (Off the Map).

* San Francisco, California, where our world is made up of three different kinds of people: Social Democrats, Democratic Socialists, and tourists.

Let me make something perfectly clear. I supported our troops. I'm not precisely sure exactly what that means, but hey, I'm in. If supporting our troops meant hoping they all came home safe, then I surely did that. I also supported the minesweeping dolphins, and I supported the collateral damage known as Iraqi civilians, and I support poolside banana daiquiris and double cheeseburgers with ketchup, pickles, and onions only.

And while we're at it, it's only fair I also reveal what I don't support. I do not support brown recluse spiders. I do not support "Draft Crispin Glover for President" movements. I do not support reclassifying anti-war protesters as terrorists. I do not support the wearing of national blinders in order to prove one's blood is the proper shade of red, white, and blue. I also don't support those who don't support those who support the truth.

Like Rumsfeld telling the networks' military experts that by criticizing his little war plan they were endangering our troops. Hey, back off, Rummy. Free speech is good, remember. Oppression bad.

When asked about kill figures from both sides, Rumsfeld declined to answer, claiming, "Death has a tendency to encourage a depressing view of war." Oh, really?

* Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where the temperature got up to 84 one day and down to 30 the next. If weather were a rollercoaster, Brew City would be Coney Island.

People, it's time to stop whining about whether the war was moral or not and time to start whining about whether the reconstruction of Iraq will be moral or not.

"Thank you, America, for freeing us from the cruel yoke of Saddam. Now we are free to rule ourselves through the merciful hand of Islam. Praise Allah."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute there, Haji. We were thinking more of an independent sort of government might be a better fit for you. Something, like, I don't know, Florida."

You might have thought Bush would have had the common human decency to wait and try to hide the Halliburton contract. You know, slide it onto the second page of the middle of a thick list. But no. First grant down the pike: up to $7 billion worth of pipeline repair and construction. Say what you will about Dubya, he ain't reluctant to be obvious. He's the Liberace of patronage.

* Charlottesville, Virginia, a most hospitable college town, and the mother lode of Virginia liberalism, which is a lot like saying the most Republican block in Berkeley.

In answer to the burning question as to whether or not the U.S. is planning a strike on Syria, Colin Powell says no, declaring the Administration does not have a hit list. The Secretary of State's actual words were, "There is no war plan right now to go attack someone else." Ooh, I don't know about you, but if I were Syria I wouldn't want any part of that whole "right now" crap. What you call your "Not Good!"

Especially when at the very same time at a different press conference, you got Bush accusing Syria of possessing weapons of mass destruction, which to my way of thinking is a second "Not Good!"

Meanwhile, Rumsfeld holds a press conference illustrating how U.S. forces shut down a pipeline carrying oil between Iraq and Syria. Which, if you're keeping score, is a big "Not Good!" times three.

You throw in an Administration official calling Syria "the junior varsity of the axis of evil," and who could blame residents of Damascus for hoarding duct tape and plastic sheeting? Not me. Maybe it's like in the movie Bull Durham (will we get hauled away for even watching it now?) when Nuke LaLoosh hits the mascot and Crash, the catcher, cautions the next batter, "I wouldn't dig in, I have no idea where the next one is going." Not so much a good-cop-bad-cop scenario as good-cop-crazy-flippo-unit-cop.

George Bush needs an intern.

Will Durst, who saw our troops discover stashes of cash in Iraq, wants them to start digging around his backyard.