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Jennifer Siebel Newsom, the wife of the California governor, practically shed tears of outrage as she harangued the press on Wednesday. Her problem? Journalists were not singularly focused on the announcement of $90 million in funding for Planned Parenthood, the organization that proudly murders thousands of babies a year. The press’s questioning of her husband on topics such as high-speed rail and the scandal engulfing the head of the Los Angeles Olympics was an affront against feminism. It was representative of why there is a “war on women.” After all, by the rules of feminism, the focus should always be on baby killing! (RELATED: A Haunt of Demons Shuts Its Doors … The Fall of Margaret Sanger’s ‘Clinic’) Siebel Newsom said it was “incredulous” that members of Planned Parenthood California were standing behind the podium, and yet “the majority of the questions — all of these questions — have really been about other issues.” She ranted, “So it’s just fascinating. You have this incredible women’s caucus and all these allies and you’re not asking about it. And this happens over and over and over again.” Journalists, she complained, didn’t “seem to care” about how they had secured all this extra funding to kill more babies: “You wonder why we have such a horrific war on women in this country and that these guys are getting away with it because you don’t seem to care. So I just offer that, with love.” She then demanded, “Ask about what we’re here for today, don’t you think?” Perhaps he immediately recognized that it was decidedly not a good look to yell at the press for asking questions on topics of their choosing. For his part, Gavin Newsom seemed rather uncomfortable with the rant. Perhaps he immediately recognized that it was decidedly not a good look to yell at the press for asking questions on topics of their choosing. The mainstream California Capitol press all immediately complained. They made clear that it is common practice to ask the governor the questions they want. Los Angeles Times reporter James Queally said, “If you have a press conference, you’re gonna get questions from the press. We’re not beholden to your choice of topic.” Emily Hoeven of the San Francisco Chronicle asked, “We have ‘such a horrific war on women in this country’ because… journalists ask questions that weren’t pre-approved by the people in power?” Jeremy B. White of Politico said, “Truly remarkable to hear journalists get blamed for ‘a horrific war on women in this country.’” Local outlet KCRA pointedly noted, “Most of journalists in the room were women.” Suffice it to say that the mainstream press corps was not impressed. And making it all the more embarrassing for Siebel Newsom, her husband proceeded to take unrelated questions from the press following one perfunctory question about what this $90 million is supposed to actually accomplish. (Technically, it can’t be spent on abortions, but the money will, of course, allow other funding sources to be directed to that murderous purpose.) Another detail that makes this episode all the more embarrassing is Siebel Newsom’s childish behavior leading up to her rant. Siebel Newsom, wearing a blush pink powersuit with a gold cross, huddled with state lawmakers Gail Pellerin and Darshana Patel and sniggered at journalists for having the audacity to ask questions not about killing young humans. Then, when a journalist asked about the closure of an oil refinery, Siebel Newsom’s baby-murdering Planned Parenthood colleagues broke out into the chant “Planned Parenthood, protect women!” Siebel Newsom clapped along before whispering in her husband’s ear and promptly taking over the podium. This is the image — that of a no-nonsense feminist who takes an active role in governance — that Siebel Newsom definitely wants to project. The same day as her feminist meltdown, Marie Claire published a fawning, nearly 4,000-word profile of Siebel Newsom, complete with six glossy photographs by Maria del Rio and a comment from Gavin Newsom on how she would be “extraordinary” as first lady of the United States. Newsom said, “Look, she doesn’t suffer fools. She’s not a fly on the wall. She is not passive.” That’s why, said Newsom, “I think she’d be extraordinary [as first lady of the United States], even if she married someone else and they ran for that office. So forget me is all I’m saying.” The profile made clear that, as first lady of the United States, Siebel Newsom would be devoted to feminist activism. Siebel Newsom said being first lady would be “an incredible platform” to push, in the words of Marie Claire’s Noor Ibrahim, “her agenda around women as power brokers in American life, at home and far beyond it.” But Siebel Newsom then cautioned that the decision of whether her husband would run for president would be “ultimately a family decision.” To prop up her feminist credentials, Siebel Newsom connected Marie Claire with longtime family friend and sort-of relative Nancy Pelosi for an interview. Pelosi said Siebel Newsom’s feminist films — Miss Representation and The Mask You Live In — have “made a very special contribution.” Siebel Newsom is, said Pelosi, “the full package.” The profile, titled “Is Jennifer Siebel Newsom the Most Underestimated Woman in American Politics?”, is gushing and filled with many oh-give-me-a-break moments. “But talking to Jennifer Siebel Newsom, you get the sense she’s been training for this moment her whole life,” says Ibrahim, a graduate of Columbia University’s journalism school, where a 9-month master’s degree fetches $91,854. In another fawning moment, Ibrahim says Siebel Newsom “is a filmmaker, and she moves like one.” At another moment, she describes the Newsoms at a holiday celebration: “There they were: a glittering portrait of an American family, radiating an old-school glamour that drew the room toward them, constituents leaning in as if to take in the whole picture at once. It was hard not to see a preview,” of them as president and first lady, presumably. Ibrahim goes on and on about Siebel Newsom’s feminist trailblazer credentials. She has started a working group on sexual assault. Her nonprofit pushes back against gender stereotypes in the media. Though California for All Women, a “gender-equity initiative,” she has sought to close the male-female pay gap and expand paid family leave. “All of this work,” says Ibrahim, “circles back to the same premise: that women are ‘the backbones of their families, their communities, and the American economy.’” There are some decidedly unfeminist moments from Siebel Newsom’s life that go unmentioned by Columbia Journalism School’s renowned reporter. First, there are the awkward circumstances of what happened after Gavin Newsom was caught carrying on an affair with his subordinate, who was married and the mother of a baby boy. At the time the affair was revealed, Jennifer and Gavin had been dating for a few months. As I detail in my book, Newsom Unleashed: The Progressive Lust for Unbridled Power, Siebel responded to the revelation by publicly humiliating the subordinate, Ruby Rippey-Tourk. She first told the San Francisco Chronicle, “I shouldn’t say this, but there are two sides to every story. If people did research into the scandal… the woman is the culprit. Alex Tourk is a nice man and it saddens me that his wife did that to him.” Siebel then went off against Rippey-Tourk in comments she made on the blog SFist: “I should have said in the article, ‘normally i would support the woman,’ but in this case, I could not, given the circumstances and ruby’s checkered history… which anyone close to the subject matter knows.” “I am a girls’ girl and I’ll always be one… i just wish as women that some of us had more respect for ourselves and didn’t always throw ourselves at the men.” She continued on in what is the definition of what she would term slut-shaming: “I am producing a documentary on strong iconoclastic women who inspire us and can serve as role models to girls around the world, but i am not going to blindly support a woman who has cheated on her husband multiple times and watch while my boyfriend is the only one who gets punished… and, what, for something a long time ago when the man was going through a crises — divorce, the loss of his mother, the pressures of being mayor, etc. and he was vulnerable and lonely? and, what’s your definition of affair? he’s been so hurt by this all — personally and professionally — and it was a few nothing incidents when she showed up passed out outside of his door. come on guys, have a heart. I have tried to see Ruby’s side of the story but unfortunately everyone near to her has stories and says she is bad news.” Siebel added, “I am a girls’ girl and I’ll always be one… i just wish as women that some of us had more respect for ourselves and didn’t always throw ourselves at the men.” She left a parting blow, telling Rippey-Tourk to take responsibility for an affair that happened when she was Newsom’s secretary: “I just wish that she would leave gavin and i alone and stop causing all of this drama and gossip. she did a bad thing to her husband and needs to take responsibility.” Let’s put aside for a moment the concerning comment that the “incidents” that constituted Newsom’s affair with his secretary began when she “showed up passed out outside of his door.” As well as the fact that Rippey-Tourk later admitted to cocaine and alcohol problems, raising questions about her ability to consent to an affair with her superior. (According to KGO-TV, Rippey-Tourk tried to look for a publisher of a self-help book that would tell her story of “hitting rock bottom with Newsom after 20 years of alcoholism and coke use.”) After Siebel made these comments about Newsom’s former secretary, Rippey-Tourk’s spokesman said, “We are certain everyone is equally mortified by her behavior and statements, and we hope and trust that she will find it appropriate to issue an apology immediately.” Siebel then did so. When a reporter called her after her apology, Siebel responded in tears. I have a chapter and a half in my book, Newsom Unleashed: The Progressive Lust for Unbridled Power, that details the many scandals surrounding Siebel Newsom. Notably, several of then concern her engaging in decidedly unfeminist behavior. First, there was the fact that she contacted Harvey Weinstein for advice on how to deal with the publicity surrounding Newsom’s affair. (Years later, Siebel Newsom accused Weinstein of having raped her sometime in the undefined past, but prior to this exchange. The email was used as evidence in favor of Weinstein’s innocence in court, and Weinstein was not found guilty of offenses against Siebel Newsom.) Then there was the allegation made by Rose McGowan, an actress who has also accused Harvey Weinstein of sexual abuse, that Siebel Newsom had tried to buy her silence on Weinstein’s abuse. McGowan said that Siebel had called her and told her, “What will it take? What can Boies Schiller do to make you happy?” McGowan said this referred to the law firm Boies Schiller, which represented Weinstein. Siebel’s brother-in-law worked at the firm. Siebel Newsom’s spokesperson acknowledged that she had talked to McGowan but said that the allegations were “outrageous and false.” Jennifer Siebel Newsom’s version of feminism consists of shaming women, blaming them for being subjected to improper attention from their bosses, and cheering on the murder of baby girls. The “Planned Parenthood, protect women!” version of feminism is very dark indeed. If Siebel Newsom takes on the position of first lady, at which Newsom says she would be “extraordinary,” we know exactly what to expect. She’ll do everything conceivable to make sure women can murder their babies as easily as possible. Ellie Gardey Holmes is the author of Newsom Unleashed: The Progressive Lust for Unbridled Power.

Milano Cortina 2026 is upon us. That’s right, another Winter Olympics. Another two weeks of watching athletes sliding around on snow and ice, performing activities we only see every four years, and playing sports we never play in real life (been luging lately?). While the Games portend many high points of athletic excellence — Mikaela Shiffrin in alpine skiing and “Quad God” Ilia Malinin in figure skating — they have already supplied a few lowlights as well. (RELATED: The Spectator P.M. Ep. 190: The Female Olympian You Should Be Cheering Against) There is a “crotch” controversy, with accusations swirling that skiers from a certain country in Scandinavia, where they eat a lot of lutefisk, are enhancing their “packages” to achieve greater “hang time” in ski jumping. And there are the predictable woke sportswriters wringing their hands about the lack of diversity on the Olympic contingents. “Why don’t the Swedes and Finns have more black ski jumpers?” they lament. The Norwegian Olympic team is whiter than a Norwegian dinner — fish, potatoes, cauliflower, etc. Tamp the outrage, woke sportswriters! We’ll pay attention to you when the NBA is 75 percent white. And, lamentably, some of our athletes are taking anti-ICE sentiment to the streets of Italy. (RELATED: Olympic Athletes Fail at Their One Job) But on the actual ice and snow, the Winter Games are a snooze. Not all the events are boring, of course. Hockey and the downhill have their moments, for sure, but, generally speaking, the Winter Games make falling asleep in front of the TV a daytime activity. One way they do this is by laying on iteration after iteration of the same activity. Take speed skating — there are long-track events and short-track events. Long-track races are like time trials — skating around a track in a lane all by yourself, against a stopwatch. There are 14 different long-track events. Short track is fun for a while — very exciting — but eventually it’s like watching little kids chase each other around the dining-room table. They have nine short-track events. There are also 12 cross-country skiing events. And this year they’re adding a 50-kilometer race for the women. That’s two additional hours of kick-glide excitement for us viewers. Then there are the luge and the skeleton, which are vastly different sports. The former entails riding a one-person sled down a track feet first; the latter involves riding a one-person sled down a track headfirst. You wouldn’t want to break away from that even to walk to the fridge. Once in a while, they add an event to perk things up. In 1992, they added speed skiing. Think about it: a skier assuming a tuck position at the top of the mountain and shooting straight down to the bottom! That’s the sort of thing that’ll get you kicked out of Copper Mountain or Winter Park. But not at the Albertville Games, where Michael Prufer of France reached a speed of 142.480 miles per hour to win the gold. They’re adding an event this year, too — ski mountaineering. In “skimo,” as it’s called, competitors “ski” up a mountain, with adhesive skins on the bottoms of their skis, then remove their skis and walk, or “speed hike,” for a while, then put their skis back on and race downhill to the finish line. This is exactly the sort of thing the Winter Games do not need: people skiing up a mountain. This is exactly the sort of thing the Winter Games do not need: people skiing up a mountain. This is to calm those viewers whose heart rates elevate while watching cross-country skiers on level ground. And, of course, in the grand tradition of Winter Olympics of quadrennia past, merely one “skimo” race will not suffice. There’s a men’s sprint, a women’s sprint, and a mixed-gender relay. If we’re going to add sports, we can do better than that. Here are my humble suggestions for new events. Large Hill Ski Jumping (over moat). It’s time to put a little spice in ski jumping. But, you say, it’s already arguably the most dangerous sport in the Winter Olympics. A skier starts atop the large “hill,” hundreds of meters above the landing area, and then zips down two little tracks before flying off a ramp and soaring 200-plus feet through the air, only to land on two skinny boards attached tenuously to his feet. Scary stuff, right? Sure, for the ski jumper. But what about us, we humble viewers? Truth be told, after watching five or six jumpers go down the same hill, hit the same ramp, and then land in roughly the same place on the mountainside, we’re ready to switch to Ice Road Truckers (even now, in Season 12). The event would be spiced up considerably by adding a moat to the landing area. Now, we don’t want to make the skiers land in the moat; we just want to make the moat a deterrent, placing it in front of the landing area. However, should a skier be so inept as to land in the moat, that mistake has to be punitive. And, no, I’m not talking about stocking the moat with alligators. It’s far too cold in Milano Cortina for gators. A nice environmental touch would be to bring polar bears from the Arctic and put them on ice floes in the moat, where they could consume inept ski jumpers. A double whammy! Inserting excitement into ski jumping and saving polar bears from extinction! Texas Tree Slalom. As now constituted, in the slalom, skiers ski around thin, slight, reed-like poles in the ground, poles with much give in them. These poles, called gates, present no obstacle to a skier’s progress down the hill at all. Slalomers look like they even try to hit them aggressively with their shoulders as they pass them. In the Texas Tree Slalom, the poles would be replaced with trees, and the trees would have white bark — so, aspen or birch — to make them harder to see. This would make the slalom races far more interesting. The “Texas” part of the title is in homage to the many skiers who ski into trees on the slopes, to injurious effect, many of whom, in my experience as an avid skier in Colorado for a decade, seem to hail from Texas. Executive Hockey. This is hockey played by men in dress shoes — no tennis shoes or athletic shoes; footwear must be a wingtip or wholecut oxford, or, at a minimum, a nice derby. If you’ve ever seen a singer or other celebrity try to make it from center ice to the boards safely, you know how entertaining such an event would be. All the better if they were required to wear suits and ties. Maybe have advertisers field teams — so the Swedish team could be Team Volvo, the German team Team Audi, and so forth. A women’s event would mandate stiletto heels. Ice Fishing. The Winter Games need a drinking sport. Now, obviously, all events lend themselves to spectator tippling. The 50-kilometer cross-country ski race would, I think, require numerous curls of the 12-ounce variety just to get through it. And the biathlon is no adrenaline rush either. But what about participant quaffing? Here we run dry, so to speak. The sport most amenable to in-competition imbibing is, obviously, curling, which is almost identical to bar shuffleboard, except it’s played on a sheet of ice instead of in a bar, with participants chasing a curling stone down the sheet while wielding Swiffers instead of mere sand facilitating puck passage. If truth be told, curlers look naked without red Solo cups in their hands. They sup from “water” bottles, of course. Curlers, like other athletes, absolutely need to keep hydrated; the sport is so strenuous. It ain’t all water that’s in those bottles, though, ya know, eh? But all this is pure speculation. Ice fishing would remove the questions. If you think there’s only fishing going on in those little huts, think again. None of these suggestions is likely to be approved by Olympic authorities, of course. But, then again, if they can green-light an event in which skiers race up a mountain, well, who knows? READ MORE from Tom Raabe: Nebrasketball Rising Southeastern Conference Football Woes The Timeless Power of Melody

A close friend, whom I’ll leave nameless for obvious reasons, is an expert on all-things Italian, as are most Italians. He knows a lot about the Mafia. He’s actually related to Francis Ford Coppola, director of every guy’s favorite film, The Godfather. He grew up in Brooklyn and spent time in the Mott Street area of Little Italy. In a curious but related twist, he knows a lot about Donald Trump, having watched and even studied the man for decades. He doesn’t really like Trump, though he has long been intrigued by him and voted for him three times as the lesser of evils, given sordid characters like Hillary Rodham Clinton, Sleepy Joe, and the cackling Kamala. One late evening, smoking cigars on my porch, my friend shared a fascinating observation on Donald Trump that held me spellbound. He compared the Donald — the Don — to a Mafia don. In tantalizing detail that I can’t do justice to here, he related how Trump, like a Mafia don, rewards those who are good to him, favors those who do him favors, but, conversely, blasts those not good to him and strongly disfavors those he believes betray him. My friend waxed almost lyrical with this alluring analogy by making several informed comparisons to “Don Corleone” of The Godfather, plus other real-life Mafia kingpins he had studied. I was captivated by the comparisons. Naturally, many readers will construe this analogy as a terrible insult. The progressive will bark: “Correct! Trump is a crime boss!” But the progressive should not rush to judgment. In fact, much can be said about — and in favor of — many Mafia dons. To that end, I would commend to readers the brilliant insights of the late Luigi Barzini, a dear friend of this magazine and our founder, R. Emmett Tyrrell Jr. Luigi and Bob were tight, with our founder spending much time with Luigi’s famiglia in Italia. Decades ago, Luigi published his classic, The Italians, a must-read for anyone interested in Italian culture. Among his splendid insights, Barzini was indispensable on the Mafia, making nuanced distinctions between crime bosses, rackets, the American mob, and more traditional Mafia in Sicily and elsewhere (such as Calabria, where my people hail from). As Barzini noted, many old high-ranking Mafia were “good fathers, good husbands, good sons; their word is sacred; they fastidiously refrain from having anything to do with spying, prostitution, drugs, or dishonest swindles. They never betray a friend.” Moreover (and this describes a Mafia figure my father grew up with), “They are always devoted churchmen, who give large sums to the local parish or to the deserving poor. Many have sisters in convents and brothers in holy orders.” Some of these men viewed themselves as the “only defense against anarchy,” noted Barzini, as the “only valid law” in parts of Sicily. The most skilled of them “prefer diplomacy rather than force, speak in a low voice and prefer to employ old-fashioned forms of address…. Their politics are conservative.” Oh, yes. Their politics are conservative. “They want to keep things as they are,” wrote Barzini. They want to conserve. They defend the family, the community, the Church, tradition, and civilization. “The first nucleus of the Mafia is the family,” wrote Barzini. They adore and support their children, their family — alla famiglia. (Trump is the same way.) Oftentimes, the Mafia don was a force for good, especially in cultures rife with government corruption. Oftentimes, the Mafia don was a force for good, especially in cultures rife with government corruption. Though far from being angels — many being outright criminals and even murderers — often the don did good. Italians found much to appreciate among these maintainers of order in their community. Of course, conservatism is first and foremost about conserving order. Order is the highest virtue for the conservative. The conservative seeks what the likes of Russell Kirk, Ronald Reagan, John Paul II, and Thomas Merton referred to as “ordered liberty.” In many Italian villages, the Mafia don was the enforcer of order. “Order has to be preserved,” wrote Barzini. “Justice must be assured.” A good don prevented chaos, and the best did so “without undue recourse to violence” and “scattering corpses.” Such dons were respected (and frequently feared), sometimes even revered, such as the legendary Don Vito Cascio Ferro or the “Sicilian patriot and good Catholic” Don Calo Vizzini, whose funeral was worthy of a prince. The Mafia head held a position of honor. Thus, the honorific title: Don. As Luigi Barzini explained, “Don is the corruption of the Latin dominus. It means a little more than signore. It is used for noblemen, gentlemen of means, priests, and Mafia leaders.” That brings me back to Donald Trump. I share all of this now because of a recent action by America’s Don that Italians really appreciate. President Trump is planning to install a statue of Christopher Columbus on the White House grounds. (Read: Aubrey Harris, “Trump to Honor Columbus With Statue at the White House. Good.”) Remarkably, the work is reportedly a “reconstruction” of a statue unveiled in Baltimore by President Ronald Reagan but pushed into the city’s harbor by assorted maniacs in the lunatic summer of 2020. What are Trump’s thoughts? White House spokesman Davis Ingle explained, “In this White House, Christopher Columbus is a hero. And he will continue to be honored as such by President Trump.” Hilariously, this line was reported as an explicit echo of “Tony Soprano,” the mob boss in The Sopranos. In a well-known scene replayed on YouTube, Tony and his wife talk to their son about his screwball teacher’s claim that if Columbus were alive today, he would be put on trial for war crimes. “He discovered America!” Tony snaps. “He was a brave Italian explorer, and in this house, Christopher Columbus is a hero!” Bravo, Tony! In Tony’s house and Trump’s house, Columbus is a hero. Of course, he was a hero in the house of every Italian American, including my family on my mother’s side. My relatives were intensely proud of Columbus. My grandfather and uncles, like Bruno Carnovale and Joe Labrozzi, played cards and drank wine at the local Sons of Italy and served as members of the Knights of Columbus. Every Catholic parish to this day has a Knights of Columbus chapter. The explorer was our fratello, an Italian native son, the first of a long line of paisanos to come to our blessed shores. Of course, his real name was Cristoforo Colombo, from Genoa, before the dunderheads of Protestant America changed his name to sound like a WASP. They Anglicized damned near everything. Consider some famous Italian American crooners: The cool-sounding Dino Paul Crocetti became the lame “Dean Martin.” The jazzy Anthony Dominick Benedetto became “Tony Bennett.” The darling Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero became “Connie Francis” (Our Dan Flynn said that “Connie Francis” sounded like the name of an old waitress at a truck stop). (Read: Paul Kengor, “Bobby and Connie: A 1950s Romeo and Juliet.”) Couldn’t these blockheads leave our lovely language alone? Gosh, they even Anglicized Roma as “Rome.” Is it really that hard to spell and pronounce “Roma”? Anyway, I digress. Columbus is a hero. Donald Trump, who loves America, also loves the great Italian who discovered America. Fittingly, the Trump International Hotel at One Central Park West sits at Columbus Circle, where the NYPD also sits in an effective second precinct. Crass, classless dirtbags walk by and flip the middle finger to both the hotel and statue (I’ve witnessed that on multiple occasions, as have my little kids). Trump wants such statues to remain. He wants them re-erected, to the point of salvaging a reconstructed statue at the White House. Those of us with Italian heritage are grateful for this favor from our Don. For that, the Donald, our Don, is our paisan. READ MORE from Paul Kengor: Confederate Liberals A Haunt of Demons Shuts Its Doors … The Fall of Margaret Sanger’s ‘Clinic’ Mike Reagan, Twice Adopted, Rest in Peace