Never has the “foot” been more important to football. Unlike its international peer, soccer (called “football” everywhere but here), in which the whole sport revolves around the foot, the American game has considered that lower appendage something of an afterthought. A radical solution would be devaluing the field goal. Make it a two-point play. Our game is a sport of running and throwing and blocking and tackling, with the foot playing a subsidiary role. Lately, however, the foot has become increasingly integral to team success. And the foot is killing football — or, more precisely, balls propelled by the foot — that is, field goals, are killing football. The three-point play has been an integral part of the game ever since Jim Thorpe was dropkicking a much-rounder football through the uprights for the Carlisle Indians. But in the modern game, it was always of mixed emotional pedigree. Sure, a long one to win a game was thrilling, but many of the others — the ones from 30 yards in — were considered consolation prizes. The offense couldn’t stick it into the end zone for six points, so the team “settles” for three. Anything over 40 yards was considered significant, and 50-plus-yard attempts were reserved for last-second desperation. Indeed, a mere 34 years ago, in 1991, only 11 field goals were made in the NFL from 50-plus yards (out of 28 attempts). As recently as 2009, the numbers were only 14 made out of 24 attempted. Now, 50-yarders are tantamount to “chip shots.” In 2024, NFL kickers converted 74 out of 97 field goal attempts from 50 yards or longer. That number has already been eclipsed in 2025 — 77 out of 108 (71.3 percent made) — and we’re not yet halfway into the season. From 55 yards, 28 have already been made this season. From 60 yards or over, NFL kickers are four for seven so far this season (57 percent). The kicker from the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, Chase McLaughlin, kicked a 65-yarder in week four (longest outdoor kick ever). The guy from Dallas, Brandon Aubrey, knocked one through from 64 yards against the New York Giants that would have cleared the crossbar from 74. A 70-yarder off the boot of one of these guys, or other select kickers, is a not a matter of if but when. As for 80-yarders … well, give them a couple of years. Why the profusion of long field goals? For one thing, as kicking becomes more important to team success, better athletes are drawn to the skill. This, plus improved specialized coaching and training methods, has spawned the explosion of kicking accuracy and long-distance success. The other thing is the ball. Back in 1999, the NFL, alarmed that kickers were manipulating the balls in creative ways, including by sticking them in microwave ovens and saunas to make them more pliable and easier to kick, started monitoring kicking balls. League officials were tasked with preparing the balls exclusively, giving kickers very little pre-game exposure to the balls they were to kick. Rules have been relaxed over the years until, for this season, teams were given 60 special kicking balls (K balls) before the year, and can prepare three for each game, to be approved by the referees. A single ball can be used in three games before it is retired. The teams cannot stick the balls in microwaves or saunas but may rub them down with towels and a special league-approved brush. Jets kicker Nick Folk told the Associated Press it was a little like breaking in a new baseball glove. “We get to kind of do just like quarterbacks get whatever they want to do to the ball, as long as it looks like a football and the logo’s still there and all that stuff.… It’s a very welcoming thing to be able to kind of look at a ball and be like: ‘All right, I want to kick this one this week.’” Also, the weather might be a factor. It’s still warm out, and balls go farther in warm temperatures than in cold. That’s why it’s happening. Here’s why it’s bad. For one thing, all these field goals detract from the exciting elements of the game. Placekicking is a singular skill not required by 95 or so percent of the other players and is anomalous to the ebb and flow of football. Games should be decided by running, blocking, throwing, catching, and tackling, not by an ectomorph straight from soccer practice trotting onto the field to decide a game with one swing of his leg. The length of the long ones — the 50- and 60-yarders — radically changes end-of-game scenarios, and not for the better. In close games, teams have for the past few decades consciously tried to score near the end of games so as to leave as little time on the clock as possible for the opposition to score in return. Two minutes used to be a challenging amount of time to mount a drive and score at the end of a game. Two minutes is now an eternity. Sheesh! Thirty seconds is an eternity in today’s game. Consider this scenario: Team A scores a touchdown or field goal to go ahead by three or fewer points with 20 seconds to go. Team B needs a field goal to win or tie. Team A kicks off and Team B returns the ball to the 30-yard-line, which is the average return so far this season. That ball is two first downs and change — 27 yards — away from a 60-yard field goal attempt. That’s one pass play, or two, or maybe three if Team B has retained its time-outs. With the new kickoff rules, that starting position could be even better. If a kickoff goes out of bounds or lands short of the “landing zone” (between the 20-yard line and the goal line), the receiving team gets it at its own 40-yard line. That team must make 12 yards to attempt a 65-yard field goal. That’s one play. It’s too much. The reward is too great. It cheapens the score made by the team mounting the game-winning drive if, in one play, the opposing team can position itself to outright win the game, albeit with a 60-plus-yard kick. And finally, field goals are boring. A snap, a hold, a kick. Rinse and repeat. The highlight shows are filled with clips of field goals because field goals are winning so many games. Nobody wants to watch that. Remedies? The league could monkey with the kicking balls or go back to restricting kicker access to them, but using different balls for kicking seems wrong in the first place. That seems not a good remedy. Cinch up the goal posts? Stadium limitations preclude moving the goal posts back, so a remedy would be narrowing the uprights. They could also raise the crossbar. A radical solution would be devaluing the field goal. Make it a two-point play. The NFL is not averse to changing the kicking game. They moved the extra point from the two-yard-line to the 15 a decade ago. They totally rewrote the kickoff rules a few years back. They should fix the field goal situation, too, because all these long field goals are killing football. READ MORE from Tom Raabe: Democrats’ ‘Trans’ Intransigence Religious Liberty Cases Return to Supreme Court Hackman and Hoosiers — A Winning Team  

The New York State Young Republicans didn’t implode because of one chat. They imploded because that chat reflected what too much of modern political culture has become — vulgar, unserious, and detached from the moral roots that once defined conservatism. Some of these kids are hungry for truth and discipline but don’t know where to find it. When screenshots surfaced of racist slurs, antisemitic jokes, and praise for Hitler inside a group chat tied to the state’s Young Republicans, party leadership acted decisively. The New York Republican Party suspended the organization, denouncing the vile content and disbanding the group. It was the right move. But if we stop there—if we treat this as an isolated scandal — we miss the deeper truth. The chat wasn’t an anomaly. It was a mirror. It reflected the moral drift of a generation that has grown up online, shaped less by philosophy or faith than by irony, clout, and shock value. Too many young conservatives have learned to perform outrage rather than live conviction. They can quote Reagan but not explain him. They can meme about liberty but not model discipline. This is the cost of a political culture that prizes visibility over virtue. Social media has become the new mentorship. Outrage is the new identity. And the right, for all its talk of family and faith, has not done enough to build the kind of moral formation that keeps young men and women from mistaking cruelty for courage. Conservatism, at its best, has always been about order — moral order, personal restraint, and the belief that freedom means nothing without virtue. But in recent years, we’ve substituted that foundation with a style of politics that’s performative and tribal. The “based” label has replaced character. The loudest voice gets the platform. The shallowest slogan becomes the creed. The Young Republicans’ scandal didn’t appear out of nowhere. It’s part of a broader rot — one that’s as cultural as it is political. Many of these young activists were raised on a steady diet of algorithmic outrage, rewarded for provocation instead of reflection. They aren’t the first generation to be rebellious. But they are the first to confuse rebellion with identity, and irony with strength. Older conservatives often shake their heads and ask how the youth became this way. But part of the blame belongs to the generation that stopped mentoring them. For years, conservative elders have focused more on winning elections than on forming character. We’ve built PACs, not principles; influencers, not leaders. When conservatism becomes just another brand, it shouldn’t surprise us when its youth start acting like brand ambassadors instead of stewards of a tradition. That failure of moral formation explains why the right’s young ranks are filled with both genuine talent and moral confusion. Some of these kids are hungry for truth and discipline but don’t know where to find it. Others have turned cynicism into a worldview, mistaking mockery for masculinity and vulgarity for authenticity. They think being “anti-woke” means being anti-decency. But moral clarity is not censorship. Standards are not “woke.” Every serious movement — especially one rooted in moral order — needs lines that cannot be crossed. Racist jokes and genocidal memes aren’t edgy, they’re evidence of moral decay. The left’s moral failures do not excuse our own. When I read about the group chat, I wasn’t shocked. I was saddened. Because I’ve met the kind of young conservatives who fall into that trap. Some are smart, restless, and searching. They know the culture is collapsing around them but have never been taught how to channel their anger into purpose. No one has shown them that self-control is power, and that strength without decency is just noise. If conservatism is to survive beyond slogans, we must rebuild a culture that forms men and women capable of bearing moral weight. That begins not with a rebrand but with a rebirth — a return to the quiet virtues that once made the movement great: self-discipline, respect, courage rooted in humility. Disbanding the Young Republicans was necessary, but it was only triage. The deeper question is what comes next. Will the party simply rename and restart, or will it reimagine what it means to raise a generation of leaders worthy of the name “Republican”? Booker T. Washington once said, “Character, not circumstances, makes the man.” He was right. The circumstances of this scandal are ugly, but they can be redeemed — if we see them as a wake-up call. The GOP doesn’t need more young firebrands; it needs more young men and women who understand that moral strength is more radical than any meme. Every movement is eventually judged not by its slogans, but by its sons and daughters. The group chat revealed a generation that has inherited conservatism without absorbing its code. That’s the crisis. And until we take that mirror seriously, the scandals will keep coming. The real task isn’t to clean up after them. It’s to build a culture where they never happen in the first place. READ MORE from David Sypher Jr.: NC Gov. Josh Stein Chooses Softness Over Safety The Mississippi Miracle: What Real Respect for Black Students Looks Like We Told People Not to Have Kids — Now We’re Surprised They Listened

Under Donald Trump, the American Right wields more power and influence than it has in 40 years. It is therefore worth recalling the groundwork laid by earlier right-wing thinkers who expanded conservatism’s ranks by uniting cultural traditionalists with economic individualists. This synthesis — known as fusionism — was the crowning achievement of political philosopher Frank S. Meyer, the man who writer Dan Flynn, in his remarkable new book, called the “man who invented conservatism.” Still, it’s probably fair to say Frank Meyer would have many of the same problems with President Trump as he did with Richard Nixon. Before Frank Meyer became a leader of movement conservatism, he was first an advocate for Marxism. He was born in 1909 to an upper-middle-class Jewish family in Newark, N.J., growing up a smart but rebellious teen who became an atheist and a full-fledged communist. His radicalism was so strong in essays and writings that he had to withdraw from Princeton University during his sophomore year. Still, he did go on to complete his undergraduate studies at Oxford. Later on, he would enroll in the London School of Economics, and there he formed the communist student movement and even started a communist newspaper on campus. Meyer’s political activities led to his expulsion from school and deported from England to America in 1934. Back home, his Marxist activism continued and he actively enlisted Americans to take Soviet Russia’s side in the Spanish Civil War in the late 30s. Slowly over time, he began to see the errors of communism. By serving a stint in the Army during World War II, he encountered working-class men and discovered the communist perception of their plight was wrong. His failed thesis of tying communism to the American founding left him at a political dead end. Subsequently, Meyer had a philosophical revelation when he read The Road to Serfdom by Austrian economist F.A. Hayek and Richard Weaver’s Ideas Have Consequences. He would go on to testify in congressional hearings to convict Communist Party USA (CPUSA) leaders who plotted to overthrow the government. Soon, he quit writing for Marxist publications such as the New Masses and started writing for a libertarian outlet called The Freeman. By the 1950s, Frank Meyer was officially on the Right, and he joined William F. Buckley in 1955 for the creation of National Review, a magazine that would soon become the epicenter for conservative thought for the next half-century. As a senior editor for NR, Meyer’s writing style was a unique blend of conservative philosophy and the political realism of the present day. In the 1950s and early 60s, conservatism was unorthodox and, according to Lionel Trilling in The Liberal Imagination (1950), amounted less to a full-blown ideology than a set of “irritable mental gestures which seek to resemble ideas.” Even so, Meyer took it upon himself to bridge the gap between social conservatives and libertarians, bringing them under the conservative umbrella. His efforts to unite these seemingly disparate groups were instrumental in shaping the modern conservative movement, and his commitment to tying conservatism to the vision of the Founding Fathers is a testament to his dedication to preserving traditional values. In 1962, Meyer released his seminal work on fusionism with a book titled In Defense of Freedom, where he revealed that the government’s role is to protect freedom and that the state has three legitimate functions: police, standing military, and a judicial system. In summation, fusionism is “utilizing libertarian means in a conservative society for traditionalist ends”. Personally, Meyer was not a fan of the word fusionism, as he would rather it be called the “conservative consensus.” The state would honor an individual’s freedom, but it was up to that person to seek virtue. He eventually would convert to Christianity and believe in divine law. In his book, he wrote that conservatives are seeking to preserve, “The Christian understanding of the nature and destiny of man.” Over the course of his career, Meyer was dubbed “Air Traffic Control” by Bill Buckley. The reason for this is that he took it upon himself to recognize and take charge of the different variations of American conservatism and to make sure the right ideas made it off the runway and stuck the landing. With Meyer having been a young Marxist advocate, he was able to use his political outreach skills and organizational abilities to form organizations such as Young Americans for Freedom, the American Conservative Union, and the Philadelphia Society. He was a gifted public speaker and went on speaking tours, and was known for making late-night phone calls on politics and public policy. Reports show that roughly 60 percent of his earnings went to pay for telephone service. Amazingly, much of the resistance to Meyers’ politics came from fellow right-wing peers. His colleague Russell Kirk believed that Meyer’s view of individualism would lead to “social atomism” and would destroy a conservative society. In contrast, L Brent Bozell argued that the purpose of politics was not freedom, but instead creating “a Christian civilization.” As it turned out, fusionism was better in practice than in theory, as Frank Meyer would become an early supporter of Barry Goldwater’s 1964 presidential campaign, the first national candidate to run on a fusionist agenda. After his landslide loss, Meyer turned to Governor Reagan of California for president in 1968 due to his principled stances and “ability as a campaigner,” only to see the Republican establishment coalesce behind Richard Nixon again. Unfortunately, Frank Meyer died of lung cancer in 1972 and was a frequent critic of the Nixon Administration’s policies. It would not be until eight years later that President Reagan would prove fusionist conservatism as a winning formula nationwide. As Dan Flynn writes in The Man Who Invented Conservatism, “Ultimately, the Big Idea united the right.” Still, it’s probably fair to say Frank Meyer would have many of the same problems with President Trump as he did with Richard Nixon. The same schisms between conservatives exist today as in Meyer’s time, and Trump’s brand of nationalist populism, embodied in a closed border and higher tariffs, has further irritated libertarians. The Right must rediscover the right balance of freedom, order, and tradition if it wants to continue being a winning national movement. READ MORE from Alex Adkins: Meet Graham Platner: The Latest Democratic Dud for Senate Is Ro Khanna the X Factor for Democrats in 2028? Andor Is Star Wars at its Peak

Jeff Bezos’ ex-wife, MacKenzie Scott, is often painted as the patron saint of generosity. She donates billions with a smile, a signature, and a self-congratulatory press release. But behind that soft-focus benevolence lies something dangerous. Scott didn’t acquire her fortune but gained it through divorce. A windfall built on Amazon’s ruthless machinery: the warehouse workers timed to the second, the drivers urinating in bottles, the small businesses crushed beneath Prime’s convenience. Hers is wealth minted from exhaustion and exploitation. And now, armed with those spoils, she’s spending her billions not to fix society, but to reprogram it. And that’s why she’s the most dangerous woman in philanthropy. Not because she’s corrupt in the traditional sense, but because she’s convincing. Her giving spree — over $17 billion to more than 2,000 organizations in the space of just a few years — sounds admirable. But look closer at where the money flows. The list reads like a roll call of ideological enforcement: “equity funds,” “racial justice initiatives,” “gender inclusion networks.” Recently, she poured another $100 million into the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund, ostensibly to “protect Black history.” In practice, it funnels millions into identity-based activism that keeps racial division alive — a philanthropy of permanent grievance. This is the modern trick: weaponize compassion. Scott’s brand of racial philanthropy doesn’t heal; it doesn’t reconcile. Instead, it reinforces. By constantly funding movements that treat America as an incurable illness, she ensures the wound never closes. Nonprofits dependent on her largesse must preach the same gospel: that racism is eternal, equity is salvation, and redemption can only be achieved through perpetual atonement. The result is a system that rewards resentment and punishes reconciliation — a spiritual pyramid scheme built on guilt. Scott’s model of “no-strings-attached” giving is the perfect con. When money defines the mission, you don’t need strings; control is already baked in. Every school, charity, or arts institution that accepts her checks bends ever so slightly toward her worldview. Museums rewrite exhibits. Universities reframe their curricula. Nonprofits recalibrate their messaging to align with the language of oppression and victimhood. It’s social engineering masquerading as magnanimity. Defenders say she’s free to spend her wealth as she pleases. Of course she is. But when one woman’s ideology begins to shape what millions see, hear, and learn, freedom becomes a monopoly. The same people who howl about “billionaire influence” when Elon Musk bought Twitter fall silent when MacKenzie Scott buys the culture. We’ve seen this movie before, just with different characters. Bill Gates used philanthropy to refashion global health policy, steering governments toward his pet projects while private companies reaped the profits. George Soros used “open society” foundations to export liberal orthodoxy and undermine elected governments that didn’t align with his politics. In each case, money didn’t just influence policy; it actually replaced it. Scott is merely the latest — and perhaps most insidious — iteration. What makes her especially perilous is her focus on culture, not politics. Gates claims he wants to cure disease. Soros wants to shape democracy. Scott wants to control the story — the cultural DNA that defines how Americans see themselves. Her gifts to “cultural heritage” projects may sound harmless, even honorable. But in practice, they’re about narrative management. Which histories are amplified, which are erased, which are retold in the approved dialect of diversity. When one billionaire decides which stories a nation remembers, that nation loses the right to remember itself. Her charm is her camouflage. She writes blog posts dripping with humility, claiming to give until the safe runs dry. But what she’s really draining is the cultural vault — stripping it of independence, nuance, and dissent. Every dollar comes with a doctrine. Her “philanthropy” funds a moral monopoly, preaching that America is rotten, whiteness is wicked, and salvation comes only through submission. It’s all so elegantly done. No manifestos, no marches — just money. And unlike the old industrial barons, Scott doesn’t build institutions. She rewires the ones that already exist. She’s an algorithm of virtue signaling, a philanthropist who programs morality through the soft power of grants. Her admirers call her a visionary. But philanthropy that enforces ideology is just soft tyranny in pearls. Her billions could rebuild crumbling schools or fund rural hospitals. Instead, they bankroll the bureaucracy of generational guilt — inclusion evangelists, sensitivity consultants, and curriculum reformers who mouth the mantra of progress while entrenching polarization. Scott’s defenders shrug: at least she’s giving, not hoarding. But giving is not inherently good. When the gift comes with invisible instructions, it’s no longer generosity but governance. History is littered with benevolent meddlers who believed they could improve humanity by controlling it. The result is always the same: control parading as care, control parading as compassion. And that’s why she’s the most dangerous woman in philanthropy. Not because she’s corrupt in the traditional sense, but because she’s convincing. Her power operates through trust. Through prestige. The old barons wanted monuments. The new ones want minds. Scott has found a way to colonize both — quietly, efficiently, and with impeccable manners. The media calls her generous. History may call her something else entirely. READ MORE from John Mac Ghlionn: How to Write About Christianity While Knowing Nothing About It Why Are So Many Young Americans Killing Themselves? HuffPostThinks God’s a Fascist      

Transportation is never sexy, but it is an integral part of our economy. In 2024 transportation accounted for nearly $1.7 trillion or around 6 percent of U.S. GDP. While most of us do not realize it, transportation costs are imbedded in everything we buy. No one really cares how your widget of choice ends up at its destination. Cost and service reliability are what matter. America’s railroads are a big part of the transportation equation, delivering over 1.5 billion tons of freight each year. But, like every other segment of our economy, railroads need to constantly increase productivity and lower operating costs to keep up with the competition: trucking, air cargo, water transport, and pipelines. More importantly our railroad system needs to be world class to keep U.S. companies competitive and help deliver higher living standards for all Americans. As America tries to “reshore” manufacturing railroads will play an even bigger part in the U.S. economy. But, will public policy allow railroads to keep up with an ever-changing economy? As a networked industry with massive investment in track, railbed, and other infrastructure, railroads rely on huge amounts of freight from various segments of the economy to make their systems run. Railroads invest around $23 billion dollars annually to maintain and expand track, railyards and equipment. Thus, chemical shippers are reliant on coal movements, and agricultural shippers are reliant on those moving construction materials to generate enough revenue to continuously reinvest. Accounting for around 25 percent of railroad revenues, all railroad customers, especially those shipping bulk commodities, rely on intermodal movements to help keep railroads viable financially. Intermodal movements can easily be diverted to truck. In fact, all intermodal movements will end up on our roads and highways for pick-up, final delivery or both. Railroads provide just the linehaul portion — movements of hundreds or sometimes thousands of uninterrupted miles that are railroad’s bread and butter. But, if it begins or ends on the highway, it can easily be diverted to all highway if the price is right. Unfortunately, these intermodal shipments and other railroad freight are at risk of being diverted to all truck highway movements within the next few years. Trucking, particularly the linehaul segment, is about to experience a revolution in how trucks can be operated that will take billions in cost out of the trucking system. Currently, drivers are the costliest component in the long-haul trucking equation, accounting for around 44 percent of total costs. But, autonomous vehicle technology is so advanced that there are already tractor trailer trucks being tested on highways in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. At the very time truckers are on the verge of adopting driverless technology, Class I railroads, our nation’s largest railroads, are saddled with the Federal requirement that all trains must operate with two person crews. The requirement was passed by the Federal Railroad Administration (FRA) in April 2024, despite there being no evidence correlating crew size with railroad safety. Prior to implementation of the two-person rule, crew sizes were determined by the railroads in conjunction railroad labor unions. As one might expect, crew sizes declined from five in the 1950’s as railroad technology advanced. So, the railroads biggest competitor will soon potentially see a 44 percent reduction in costs from the introduction of autonomous vehicles while railroads are Federally frozen in time with two person crews.  Studies have shown that reductions in trucking cost can easily divert railroad traffic. In fact, one analysis from 2020 showed that a 34 percent reduction in truck costs would reduce intermodal traffic by over 50 percent. One can expect a similar impact from the operation of autonomous trucks if railroads do not have the flexibility to rationalize crew sizes. What can the railroads do? A good place to start would be passage of the Train Crew Choice Act (H.R. 5135) introduced by Rep. Eric Burlison (R-MO). The legislation would repeal FRA’s two crew requirement and allow railroads’ flexibility to determine train staffing levels. Additionally, the Surface Transportation Board should approve the proposed merger between the Union Pacific and Norfolk Southern railroads. The UP-NS merger is projected to eliminate one million carload interchanges each year, saving an average of two days of useless time in rail yards, allowing for better service and reduced costs. American shippers buy transportation as part of the manufacturing process and to deliver goods to American and international customers. No one really cares how your widget of choice ends up at its destination. Cost and service reliability are what matter. Eliminating the two-person crew requirement and allowing the UP-NS merger to go through will help increase railroad productivity and allow the railroad system to keep up in an ever more competitive world. READ MORE from David Ozgo: Childhood Nicotine Poisoning and Public Policy READ MORE: The New H-1B Tax: An Exercise in Crony Capitalism America’s Turn Toward Ad Hoc State Capitalism   David M. Ozgo is Executive Director of the Center for Transportation Advancement and President of Advocacy Analytics LLC. He can be reached at ozgodavid@gmail.com.

Abortion culture has gutted the humanity of America. Respecting life implies sacrifice, but American society seeks narcissism, and we are addicted to the toxic drug of abortion. If Margaret Sanger could time travel to visit a modern Planned Parenthood, would she recognize the organization she started? My home state of Colorado allows abortion for any reason up to birth. It forces insurance providers to cover abortions without even a copay. It went into debt to shovel $4.4 million in Medicaid funds to Planned Parenthood. The state tried to stop my wife as a medical provider from saving unborn babies, even when their crying mothers wanted them. Colorado may be an extreme example, but every state struggles with abortion mania. Did you know the founder of Planned Parenthood never intended this to happen? The feminist crusader for eugenics Margaret Sanger actually had a mission to end abortion. Her writings even show she believed human life began at conception. She believed abortion was evil. According to Sanger’s autobiography, in 1916 she mailed fliers that said “DO NOT KILL, DO NOT TAKE LIFE, BUT PREVENT.” Seeing unplanned pregnancies as a scourge on women, her solution was contraception. She wanted to prevent pregnancy, not end it. “Birth control,” as Sanger called it, was needed because “abortion was the wrong way.” “[N]o matter how early it was performed,” Sanger wrote, “it was taking life.” Contraception was better because “life had not yet begun.” As she stood trial in 1918, Sanger’s court exhibit, The Case For Birth Control, called abortion “the greatest disgrace of modern civilization.” She explained that her movement “is antagonistic to the general practice of abortion.” Her Birth Control League was for “the Prevention of Conception, and not the causing of abortion.” Contraception, she claimed, would “positively do away with the evil of abortion.” In Germany, while evangelizing for “birth control,” she was shocked that the doctors preferred abortions because they believed they could control women. In Berlin, she told an audience that contraception was the “harmless” solution because the only others were “infanticide, which is abhorred, and … abortion, nearly as bad.” A Russian man thought Sanger’s “birth control” meant terminating pregnancies. “No, that’s abortion,” she explained. “We don’t want that. Birth control is different.” In New York she derided the “wise men and scientists” who continued the “barbaric methods” of “infanticide, abortion, and other crude ways.” Maggie won her mission to legalize “birth control” in the United States. The Supreme Court’s rulings in Griswold v. Connecticut and Eisenstadt v. Baird allowed contraception for anyone. The Comstock Act, passed in 1873 banning the mailing of contraceptives, effectively ended in 1972, a century after it became law. Six years following her death, Sanger’s lifelong ambition was realized. Yet, her goal to end abortion was a massive failure. One year after legalized “birth control” came legalized abortion. Roe v. Wade ruled it was needed for “privacy.” Doe v. Bolton said it was for “health.” In 1992, Planned Parenthood v. Casey claimed it was to prevent “undue burden.” In 2000, the FDA approved an abortion pill for pregnancy as if it were a “Serious or Life-Threatening Illness.” Solutions in search of a problem? If Margaret Sanger could time travel to visit a modern Planned Parenthood, would she recognize the organization she started? What would she think of states ending unborn life with impunity? Would the thought of the government forcing people who believe in the sanctity of life to pay for the slaughter of the unborn shake her to her core? Would she reconsider starting that “birth control” clinic in Brooklyn, New York? Unlike Planned Parenthood and their “pro-choice” supporters today, Margaret Sanger opposed abortion from conception. Her “birth control” wasn’t supposed to end life. It was to end abortion. I’m not simping for Margaret Sanger or her quest for “birth control.” I don’t think she would join a “pro-life” organization. But the gap on this issue between today’s Planned Parenthood and the woman who created it is enormous. If Planned Parenthood’s founder considered abortion “barbaric” and “evil,” why do Democrats want to die on that hill? Margaret Sanger tried to eliminate abortion; her own organization has turned it into a sacrament. Maybe it’s time to rethink this religious fervor for abortion on demand. Let’s consider what abortion really is, as Sanger did. It ends human life. READ MORE: How Trump 2.0 Can Get Back to Trump 1.0 on the Abortion Pill When the Abortion Lobby Cries Wolf, They Might Just Summon One Catholic Cognitive Dissonance Daniel Mynyk hosts the weekly theological and political podcast Truthspresso. He holds a B.S. in Computer Science from Pensacola Christian College and a Master’s of Information Systems from the University of Phoenix. He has contributed to The Upper Room, The Thinking Conservative, and the Libertarian Christian Institute. Daniel and his wife Chelsea run Castle Rock Women’s Health, a life-affirming whole women’s health clinic. They have four kids.

1% Biker Snakes His President ??

For the last 20 years or so, there’s been a steady flow of live performance films issued by the living members of Pink Floyd. The band may no longer exist, but you can count on David Gilmour, Nick Mason, and Roger Waters to keep the Floyd fire burning. Gilmour and Waters, in particular, have staged massive concert tours, capturing it on film for eventual release. In 2025, both previewed concert films in theaters before releasing them digitally or on physical media. Like his 2014 The Wall film, Roger Waters’ 2025 This Is Not A Drill – Live from Prague The Movie is as stunning visually as it is musically. With a new album to promote, David Gilmour toned down the eye-popping visuals, as well as a lot of older Floyd songs, and put the focus on himself and his band on his own Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome and The Luck And Strange Concerts set. To be clear, Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome and The Luck And Strange Concerts are two separate sets packaged together on two Blu-ray Discs. Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome was filmed over three nights at the famous Italian venue, was screened in select cinemas around the world, and is now available on a single Blu-ray Disc. The Luck And Strange Concerts is an audio-only companion that replicates the setlist with performances drawn from the 23-date tour. It’s featured on a second Blu-ray Disc loaded up with all kinds of extras, including promotional films, documentaries, and rehearsal footage. It can also be had on vinyl, CD, and digitally. Gilmour plays everything, though not in order, from his 2025 Luck And Strange album. There’s also a couple from 2016’s Rattle That Lock. As for Pink Floyd, you could call it a very lean selection, with five from the 70s and five from the two post-Waters albums of the 80s and 90s. Staples like “Money” and “Run Like Hell” didn’t make the cut. In recent concert films, Roger Waters seems to toil in the darkness of Pink Floyd, serving up large portions of Animals and The Wall aligned with colorful, yet austere, politically charged imagery and messaging. On the Luck And Strange tour, Gilmour offered lighter, simpler fare like “Breathe (In The Air),” “Fat Old Sun,” and “Wish You Were Here” (which Waters also plays, though not as convincingly). Watching Live At The Circus Maximus, we see a round backdrop screen that mostly displays close-ups of Gilmour and the band onstage, with only a few Luck And Strange images, and some older, well-worn clips from The Dark Side Of The Moon and The Division Bell. Gilmour’s relaxed, almost deliberately languid approach seems to create a haven of goodwill among his band and the audience. He beams proudly when daughter Romany comes up on stage, plays the harp, sings “Between Two Points,” or with the other background singers — Louise Marshall, Charley Webb, and Hattie Webb — now collectively known as Marshall Gilmour Webbs. They later pay tribute to fallen Pink Floyd keyboardist Richard Wright with a heartfelt, vocally stunning rendition of “The Great Gig In The Sky” that features Marshall on piano alongside Gilmour’s smooth pedal steel. Guitarist Ben Worsley takes up a few of the guitar, slide, and vocal parts to give the boss a little more wiggle room to sing and strum. He even assumes the lead vocalist post on the chorus of “A Boat Lies Waiting.” Keyboardist Greg Phillinganes sings Wright’s verses in “Time.” The collaborative nature extends right up to the very last song. This is when bassist Guy Pratt, who’s been in the service of Pink Floyd, David Gilmour and Nick Mason since the late 80s, sings the Roger Waters verses of “Comfortably Numb” with relative ease. Waters has realigned and rearranged “Comfortably Numb” to no end. As ruthless and even noble as that may sound, he’ll never be able to match the voice and guitar of David Gilmour. The version from Rome is a classic example of that. After Pratt asks: “Can you show me where it hurts?, the lights come up and the crowd presses forward as Gilmour coos the first few lines: “There is no pain…you are receding…A distant ship smoke on the horizon…” Then, he squeezes out that epic solo, the one every guitarist wishes he’d written, that begins and ends ever so perfectly, sending shivers up and down you and your neighbor’s forearms no matter how many times you hear it. By the looks of it, it was an emotional moment for everyone in Rome. Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome, directed by Gavin Elder, not only captures the show, but also the surrounding ancient ruins of Rome with stylish aerial shots inserted here and there (along with an animated black cat) — adding an exotic, European flair to the proceedings. If you saw the film during its short IMAX run, it probably added to its allure. The Circus Maximus used to host Roman chariot-racing for up to 250,000 spectators. Today, much of it is gone, though part of the present park has become a popular venue for concerts. Gilmour’s sold 90,000 tickets for the six shows he played there in 2024. Watching backstage and rehearsal footage in the extras section on The Luck And Strange Concerts Blu-ray clearly affirms how much hard work, fun, and fulfilling the tour was for everyone involved. Another highlight is the “Luck And Strange” promotional video, which features footage of Richard Wright playing keyboards on the song. The memory of Wright is celebrated by Gilmour as much as that of Syd Barrett by the guitarist, Waters, and Mason. If only Mason could get Gilmour to team up on an updated version of “Echoes,” and pay tribute to Wright with a nod to Waters, so the rest of us could die in peace. Suffice to say, Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome and The Luck And Strange Concerts is well worth the time and investment. Not only is the video a feast for the eyes, but the audio, co-produced by Gilmour and Charlie Andrew, can be played back in 24-bit/96kHz PCM stereo, Dolby Atmos, and 5.1 Surround Sound DTS-HD. Your home theater will transform into the Circus Maximus without the 2,000-year-old architecture. ~ Shawn Perry Purchase Live At The Circus Maximus, Rome & The Luck And Strange Concerts   

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