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The situation for America’s children is grim. Following the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health decision, which overturned Roe v. Wade, abortions have actually increased nationwide. That means that what looked to be a momentous achievement for the pro-life movement was really only a Pyrrhic victory. Make no mistake about it, the pro-abortionists are winning, and they are winning by the widest of margins. It all comes down to their simple strategy: flooding the country with abortion pills like they are candy. In total defiance of numerous states’ abortion laws, criminal rings of pro-abortion radicals are shipping abortion pills everywhere to anyone who asks for them. They have no fear of the law because their states are pledging to protect them from prosecution with “shield laws.” (RELATED: ‘Dr. Maggie,’ Notorious Abortionist) It seems that the only state that is energetically attempting to combat this most dismal of situations, which is resulting in the murders of more than a million children a year, is Texas. No other state seems to grasp that outlawing abortion, limiting it to early in pregnancy, or closing Planned Parenthood clinics will do nothing to decrease abortions when the instrument of death can be mailed in an envelope within a few days’ time. The purpose of the law is to target these rings of mifepristone traffickers via civil lawsuits that include penalties of up to $100,000. On Thursday, Texas took a major step toward combating the abortion pill pipeline when HB 7, the Woman and Child Protection Act, went into effect. The purpose of the law is to target these rings of mifepristone traffickers via civil lawsuits that include penalties of up to $100,000. HB 7 aims to get around pro-abortion states’ “shield laws,” which have been used to protect criminal abortionists from prosecutions and fines stemming from pro-life states. Leftist legal analysts have argued that the Full Faith and Credit Clause, which requires states to recognize other states’ judicial proceedings, has a loophole in that it does not require states to recognize penal judgments, meaning judgments that are intended to punish wrongdoing rather than compensate someone. As civil lawsuits for monetary damages, the suits called for in HB 7 should theoretically sidestep this argument that states are not obligated to enforce other states’ penal judgments. However, lawyers on the left are already claiming that, though HB 7 would bring about civil lawsuits, they would in reality be penal in nature because they aim to punish people for breaking Texas’s abortion laws. (RELATED: How Trump 2.0 Can Get Back to Trump 1.0 on the Abortion Pill) Presumably, Texas would argue that HB 7 indeed calls for civil action. But its lawyers would also argue that abortion states must respect its criminal prosecutions and extradition orders. In a 2025 letter to Congress, 16 conservative attorneys general argued that shield laws violate the Full Faith and Credit Clause because liberal states are “refusing to give full faith and credit to that State’s judicial proceedings” when they “refuse[] to respect a criminal prosecution or a civil judgment against an individual who is accused of violating the abortion laws of another State.” They further argued that abortion states’ refusal to extradite those accused of violating abortion laws violates the Constitution’s Extradition Clause. Right now, abortion traffickers do not seem particularly scared by Texas’s new law. The 19th, a liberal publication focused on “Women and LGBTQ+ people,” surveyed abortion pill providers about their plans for delivering abortion pills to Texas post-HB 7. Concerningly, all the groups the 19th asked said they were committed to continuing to ship abortion pills to Texas. Elisa Wells, the “access director” for Plan C, an organization dedicated to informing people of where they can illegally purchase abortion pills online, told the 19th, “If anything, the implementation of this law makes people more determined to help folks in Texas access abortion pills.” (RELATED: Enforce Comstock: End ‘Mail-Order’ Abortions) Perhaps what has alleviated their fears is that no one attempted to use Texas’s Senate Bill 8, which had a mechanism similar to HB 7, to sue abortion providers. However, John Seago, the head of Texas Right to Life, who had a major role in getting HB 7 passed, has said that he and his allies are already putting together a team to bring one of these lawsuits if the need arises. All sides are expecting that lawsuits from HB 7 could ignite a legal fight that could go all the way up to the Supreme Court. “I’m not naive that there could easily be suits, and that means our lawyers will have to be involved in handling that,” said Dr. Angel Foster, the founder of an abortion pill mill. “But we’re not changing anything about our practice and not anticipating any changes to our practice in regard to HB 7.” Seago, on the other hand, explained that much of the purpose of HB 7 is to get this issue before the Supreme Court. “We think there is going to be a kind of this standoff between Texas and New York that maybe goes back to the Supreme Court,” he told the Guardian. “I would be very interested to get that case. We’re actually looking to spur that on.” READ MORE from Ellie Gardey Holmes: Another Man Accused of Forcing Abortion Pills on Mother of His Child Activists in Michigan Move to Integrate Abortions Into Urgent Care Clinics ‘Dr. Maggie,’ Notorious Abortionist

We’re at the height of the football season in America. Between college football and the National Football League, it’s a great time for the gridiron. Like many a household, these games generate much excitement at the Kengor home with my football-crazy boys. They also generate some nostalgia from their old man. Last week, I caught a halftime tribute to the late, great John Madden that prompted me to wax nostalgic to my boys about the Raiders–Steelers rivalry of the 1970s, and particularly the epic 1975 contest 50 years ago. That battle reached its apex (or low) when Pittsburgh Steelers Coach Chuck Noll referred to Raiders’ safety George Atkinson as representative of the “criminal element” of the NFL. (RELATED: Roger Goodell’s Pagan NFL) The ensuing melee is worth remembering right now, not only because of the rivalry 50 years ago, but given that Atkinson just passed away at age 78. The ‘70s best and second-best The Steelers were the best team in arguably the best decade in the history of pro football. They won four Super Bowls. The only debate is which team would be considered second best. Dallas Cowboys’ fans will make their case, as will aficionados of Don Shula’s superb Miami Dolphins (still the only team to have an undefeated season, in 1972). Some partisans in Minnesota might invoke the terrific Vikings of Fran Tarkenton and crew, though they were essentially the (1990s) Buffalo Bills of the 1970s, having gone to four Super Bowls but never winning one. Cowboys’ and Dolphins’ fans will not like this, but I think a case can be made that the Oakland Raiders were the second-best team. If the Steelers had not prevented them from reaching the Super Bowl more than once, I think the fierce Raiders (who played in six AFC championships between 1971-78) would have dominated the decade, including over the undeniably fantastic Cowboys teams of Tom Landry and Roger Staubach. To be sure, the Cowboys went to seven NFC championship games in the 1970s, winning five of them. They went to five Super Bowls in the decade, winning two. Unfortunately, the Cowboys and Raiders played each other only once in the 1970s, with the Raiders winning 27-23 in 1974. I know the Cowboys were great, but in a head-to-head matchup in the mid-1970s, my money would have been on the Raiders. The only team good enough to knock off the Raiders was the Pittsburgh Steelers, and certainly not always. In fact, of the 11 times the two teams met in the 1970s, the Raiders won six, though the Steelers prevailed in the most significant of the contests — the playoffs. The two battled in the playoffs for five consecutive seasons (1972–76), an NFL record yet to be matched. They bludgeoned each other in three consecutive AFC championship games for the 1974, 1975, and 1976 seasons. The Steelers–Raiders battles were awesome affairs, beginning with the incredible December 23, 1972, Immaculate Reception game in Pittsburgh, where Franco Harris barely grabbed a deflected pass from Terry Bradshaw on fourth and 10 with 30 seconds left in the game and galloped into the endzone at Three Rivers Stadium in what has been named the greatest play in the history of the NFL. The play itself has long remained the subject of heated debate among Raiders and Steelers players. A hilarious documentary film on the play was done by the NFL Network in 2012, with every angle and inch broken down by experts (including from the literal CIA) as if they were watching video footage of the Zapruder film that captured the JFK assassination. The rivalry captured the nation — not just fans in the two host cities. The players on both teams were extraordinary, as both athletes and characters and personalities. Between the two teams, there were close to 30 future Hall of Famers (plus many more All Pros), an astounding number. It was a brutally physical rivalry, captured splendidly in an excellent book on the subject, fittingly titled Hell with the Lid Off: Inside the Fierce Rivalry between the 1970s Oakland Raiders and Pittsburgh Steelers, by Ed Gruver and Jim Campbell. In retrospect, it was fitting that the Immaculate Reception launched the rivalry because the play was made possible when the Raiders’ Jack Tatum, known as “The Assassin” (his autobiography was titled They Call Me Assassin), laid out Steelers’ running back John “Frenchy” Fuqua. Had the ruthless Tatum not characteristically brooded over his prey as a half-dead-looking Fuqua lay on the ground at his feet, he might have seized the ball rather than Franco grabbing it. The game would have been over, with no Immaculate Reception. Tatum spearheaded a vicious defense matched in physicality only by the Steelers’ defense, which included an equally hard-hitting cornerback, Mel Blount, linebackers like Jack Lambert, and the Steel Curtain defensive line anchored by Mean Joe Greene. The 6’3, 205-pound Blount was so dominating that the NFL had to change the rules on how defensive players engage wide receivers after the line of scrimmage. They dubbed it the “Mel Blount Rule.” Receivers today wouldn’t last a game under the old rules, where intense men like Blount and Tatum took them out. Tatum’s list of victims included New England Patriots’ wide receiver Darryl Stingley, who was paralyzed for life — a quadriplegic — after a gruesome hit from The Assassin in an August 1978 preseason game. (RELATED: Reduce the Importance of the Foot in Football) The “criminal element” Jack Tatum’s partner in physicality — if not in “crime” (more on that in a moment) — was George Atkinson. The tandem was particularly unpleasant to Steelers’ receiver Lynn Swann, which brings me to 50 years ago and the 1975 AFC Championship game at a frozen Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, played on Jan. 4, 1976. Atkinson’s repeated antics on the field, but particularly against Swann in that game, led to quite the spectacle both on and off the field. Atkinson was notorious for using his left forearm to level opposing receivers. This time, he uncorked it in the third quarter against Swann’s skull, knocking out cold the Steelers’ star receiver. In a stunning photo from the game, a likewise injured Joe Greene went onto the field and, in a slow limp, helped carry off the concussed Swann, who had to be put on a stretcher and taken to the hospital. It’s revealing that when Swann fumbled the ball and Tatum pounced on it, Steelers players pounced on Tatum. Savoring the opportunity for payback against the punishing defensive back, two Steelers, center Ray Mansfield and the legendary running back Rocky Bleier, drilled Tatum on the ground, inflicting enough pain to injure The Assassin. The Steelers won that game 16-10 and went on to secure the first of two Super Bowl victories against the Cowboys. The Super Bowl would feature an epic performance by the still-recovering Lynn Swann, who was dazzling, producing a highlight reel of leaping, diving catches. Swann was awarded the game’s MVP. But the feud had just begun, especially between Swann and Atkinson. The two teams met again for the September 1976 regular season opener in the Oakland Coliseum. Here again, Atkinson cut loose on his victim. This time, he leveled his forearm against the back of Swann’s helmet, blindsiding the graceful receiver. One of the commentators, former Cowboys quarterback “Dandy Don” Meredith, observed in shock, “They’re picking on Lynn. I don’t think you’re supposed to do that. Atkinson gave him a karate chop against the back of the neck!” That prompted his cohort, the legendary Curt Gowdy, to respond sarcastically, “You mean you’re not supposed to take a guy’s head off?” An injured Swann was escorted (once again) off the field. Was Atkinson flagged for unnecessary roughness? Are you kidding? Not in the 1970s. He got away with it. Meanwhile, Swann missed the next two games because of the injury. After the game, an incensed Steelers coach, Chuck Noll, protested to reporters about the non-call against Atkinson. He said it should be illegal, and worse. Why didn’t the referees flag Atkinson? “Maybe they’re waiting for someone to get killed,” observed Noll. “They went after Swann again. People that sick shouldn’t be allowed to play the game.” But Noll was just warming up with his heated criticisms. The next day, in his weekly press conference in Pittsburgh, Noll went considerably further. He referred to George Atkinson as part of a “criminal element” in the NFL. Because of this Raider “intent to maim” (Noll was no doubt also thinking of Jack Tatum), Noll said of the likes of Atkinson: “People like that should be kicked out of the game…. There is a certain criminal element in every aspect of society. Apparently, we have it in the NFL, too.” The wounded Swann backed his coach’s sentiments, saying that Atkinson’s hit was not only illegal but “delivered with what seemed to be some type of malice. It’s our contention that it was basically criminal.” Yes, criminal. With that charge, George Atkinson went ballistic. The wild man on the field went wild off as well. He sued for slander, and the case went to court. The trial began the following summer, July 1977, in the U.S. District Court in San Francisco. Noll and Swann and Atkinson all took the stand, as did Raiders’ coach John Madden, Steelers and Raiders owners Art Rooney and Al Davis, and several other players. It was quite the fiasco. It dominated newspaper headlines and nighttime news shows. The trial went on for almost two weeks before the jury entered a decision of not guilty. However, one might say that a defeated Atkinson got his victory anyway — on the field, where he preferred it. The two teams that had met for that 1976 regular season opener closed it in the AFC Championship game once again, this time in Oakland on Dec. 26, 1976. Unfortunately for the Steelers, they suffered a devastating pre-game injury report, with both Franco Harris and Rocky Bleier unavailable because of injuries. Remarkably, the two backs had both rushed for over 1,000 yards in the regular season, leading an unstoppable running attack. But not on this day. Both were sidelined. The Steelers mustered just one touchdown, and the Raiders humbled the Steel Curtain, winning 24-7. Two weeks later, the Raiders won their first Super Bowl 32-14 over the Minnesota Vikings. The criminal element in the stands George Atkinson might have lost his battle in the courtroom, but he won on the gridiron. He went out a winner, retiring in 1977. He always resented the charge of criminality. As for Raiders’ fans, it must be stated that they seemed to revel in the “criminal element” charge rather than take offense. Like many Raiders’ players, they embraced the bad-boy image — and then some. Many Raiders’ fans were downright scary, donning skulls and bones, spiked shoulder pads, silver-and-black face paint, Darth Vader costumes, and were notorious for beating up visiting fans. Many of them acted criminally in the stands. They had some of the most thuggish fans in America, certainly not happy spectators like what you saw in, say, Buffalo or Green Bay. The Packers’ fans had cheery cheeseheads; the Raiders’ fans looked like the walking dead with spikes and chains. Alas, a sad coda to the Oakland Raiders, and a colossal demerit to those fans — more symptomatic of the larger Bay area — is that they allowed that historic franchise to leave their city, first to Los Angeles and now to Las Vegas. That’s sad and pathetic. Fans in proud football cities like Denver, Chicago, Kansas City, Buffalo, Green Bay, and Pittsburgh would never allow that to happen to their beloved team. (RELATED: The Pittsburgh Steelers’ Pickett Mob) As for those superb Oakland Raiders teams of the ‘70s, so awesome on both defense and offense — the latter including the likes of Ken Stabler, Cliff Branch, Dave Casper, Fred Biletnikoff — it’s hard to conceive that they won only one Super Bowl. But unfortunately for them, the Pittsburgh Steelers were in the way. Authors Ed Gruver and Jim Campbell closed the story on the rivalry this way: “The most ferocious and violent postseason rivalry in the history of North American sports ended with the 1976 AFC Championship game…. [It] was a place no sports rivalry had been before and hasn’t been since. Hell, with the lid off.” That’s quite a statement. But an argument can be made for its validity, especially that “ferocious and violent” (if not quite “criminal”) element. Other rivalries were very intense, including the Steelers–Cowboys of the decade. And if we’re talking sports generally, it’s hard to ignore epic clashes like the Celtics vs. the Lakers in the decade that followed in basketball. But when it came to sheer brutality, it was hard to beat the Raiders–Steelers of the 1970s. May the rivalry — and George Atkinson — rest in peace. READ MORE from Paul Kengor: My Planned Parenthood Turkeys Maximilian Kolbe’s Triumph at Auschwitz The Mamdani Model: More Socialist Mayors to Come

Beginning in the mid-20th century, Western intellectuals began dismantling the concept of objective truth. Postmodern philosophy insisted that truth is relative, that everyone has their own version of it. The effects have been disastrous. Today, even the most self-evident facts are denied, and reason is routinely replaced by opinion. But the collapse of truth didn’t stop with the humanities. It spread into the hard sciences, which once prided themselves on sober objectivity about the real world. Even physics — the crown jewel of human reason — has not been immune. Nowhere is this clearer than in the rise of the multiverse, perhaps the strangest and most self-defeating idea ever promoted as if it were science. The multiverse claims that an infinite number of unobservable universes exist, each with its own laws of nature. While it sounds harmless, this idea ultimately dissolves the concept of objective reality altogether — an outcome that, for an academic culture increasingly committed to relativism, is more feature than bug. [W]hat motivates multiverse theory in the first place: the attempt to preserve a godless worldview in the face of mounting evidence for design. Before we look at the connection between postmodern relativism and the multiverse, we need to understand what motivates multiverse theory in the first place: the attempt to preserve a godless worldview in the face of mounting evidence for design. “If there is only one universe,” atheist physicist Bernard Carr said, “you might have to have a fine-tuner. If you don’t want God, you’d better have a multiverse.” (RELATED: What is the Scientific Theory of Intelligent Design?) Here’s why. Built into our universe are fixed numbers that determine the strength of gravity, the mass of the electron, and other fundamental properties of reality. Scientists have discovered that these numbers are astonishingly fine-tuned. If some were even slightly different, the universe wouldn’t have atoms, stars, or life. Nothing complex would exist at all. The natural question, then, is what caused these numbers to be set with such precision. The straightforward answer is that they were chosen by an intelligent cause for the purpose of bringing about an ordered, complex universe. But for scientists committed to atheism, the idea that fine-tuning points to God is unthinkable. So they look for another explanation. If there are infinite universes, they argue, then every possible combination of numbers exists somewhere. Most of those universes would be sterile and chaotic, but at least one would inevitably have the right conditions for life. And of course, we find ourselves in that one, because it’s the only kind of universe where observers like us could exist. As strange as that sounds, multiverse theory doesn’t stop there. To explain the apparent design of the laws of nature themselves — not just the fine-tuned numbers, but the very form of the laws — physicist Max Tegmark goes even further. He proposes that every mathematically possible law of nature actually exists in its own universe. “The only postulate in this theory,” he writes, “is that all structures that exist mathematically exist also physically.” In other words, if you can write down a consistent mathematical equation, Tegmark believes it describes a real universe somewhere. That means universes where gravity pushes instead of pulls. Universes with dozens of dimensions. Universes governed by exotic equations that bear little resemblance to the structure of nature as we know it. Physicist Alan Guth summarized it bluntly: in an infinite multiverse, “anything that can happen will happen; in fact, it will happen an infinite number of times.” The growing popularity of multiverse theory among physicists has serious consequences. Beyond the multiverse’s conceptual problems, the idea undermines the very foundation of science itself. For centuries, science has advanced on the conviction that one universal set of laws governs our universe. Great physicists have pursued the dream of uncovering those universal truths and constructing a final theory that could explain the reality we observe. The multiverse overturns that vision and replaces it with a shallow relativism. All laws exist, and all possible universes are real. There is no single objective truth, but instead an infinite number of relative ones. From this distorted perspective, the great scientists of the past did not reveal the structure of nature — they merely described local curiosities in one tiny corner of an infinite landscape where anything goes. And once everything possible happens infinitely many times, nothing is unique or meaningful. Every imaginable event is real somewhere. Every story, every physical configuration, every possible law of nature exists in some universe. A science that treats every possibility as real ends up with no universal truths left to discover. The multiverse removes the very constraint that gives science its purpose: explaining the one universe we can actually observe. Instead of seeking a unified theory that explains what we see, it retreats to the claim that everything imaginable exists. That isn’t progress; it’s a return to a pre-scientific way of thinking. How can any serious scientist not see that this departure from the heart of science drains it of meaning? The answer lies not in physics, but in philosophy. For decades, universities have trained generations of students to believe that there are no moral truths, no objective standards, no privileged perspectives. Every belief is a construct. Every viewpoint is equally valid. Once that way of thinking took hold, it was only a matter of time before it spread to the sciences. The multiverse is the logical extension of postmodern relativism. It tells us that every universe is real, every possibility exists, and nothing has genuine meaning. When that idea enters the halls of science, objective truth quietly slips away. It is the same relativism that hollowed out the humanities, now wrapped in mathematical language. This makes postmodernism and the multiverse natural allies. The first softens the ground by teaching that objective reality can be dismissed. The second offers scientific cover for the idea that everything is equally true. Together, they amount to a rejection of reality itself. For centuries, scientists used the scientific method to study the real universe, and what they found pointed to an intelligent cause behind its remarkable structure. Confronted with the implications of fine-tuning, many retreated to a philosophical relativism that allowed them to push away the very conclusions their own science had revealed. While there are still physicists who understand that the multiverse is a drastic departure from science, they are becoming a minority. We should not stand by as the growing force of relativism begins to reshape the scientific enterprise. Science is humanity’s shared inheritance, and we have a duty to defend it in an age that increasingly doubts the existence of truth. Rabbi Elie Feder, PhD, and Rabbi Aaron Zimmer host the “Physics to God” podcast. READ MORE: A Mathematician’s View of Evolution Science Has Finally Come For Transgenderism A Global Scientific Scandal Is Brewing: What If Scientific Research Is No Longer Trustworthy?

Trump also questioned the sheer amount of vaccines given to Americans versus people of other countries.

The Transparency of the Kash Patel FBI and the Truth About the Crooks Investigation, w/ John Solomon