Should Pregnant Women Who Hate Trump Keep Taking Tylenol?

In a recent news release, the Food and Drug Administration announced findings that pregnant women who take acetaminophen, the active ingredient in Tylenol, may run an increased risk of autism for their unborn child.

In a news conference, President Trump and HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr emphasized the importance of the FDA's advice. In his inimitable way, Trump urged pregnant women to "tough it out" rather than ingest Tylenol Tablets.

Democrats quickly renounced Trump and Kennedy's advice. Representative Rosa DeLauro, the purple-haired Democratic congresswoman from Connecticut, denounced Kennedy's Tylenol warning. In a prepared statement, DeLauro called Kennedy's warning "absurd" and urged women to ignore it.

The claim from President Trump and Secretary Kennedy is baseless. Scientists and doctors agree that Tylenol, or acetaminophen, is one of [the] few safe pain relievers available to women during their pregnancy. President Trump and Secretary Kennedy’s claim is misinformation and it should not be taken seriously, as it could lead to women taking dangerous alternatives. 

NPR, ever ready to criticize the Trump administration, also cast doubt on Kennedy's Tylenol warning. NPR began its story on the topic with this headline: "Trump blames Tylenol for autism. Science doesn't back him up."

However, Kennedy and Trump's warning about the dangers of taking Tylenol during pregnancy is not baseless. In an internal email message, Rachel Weinstein, director of epidemiology at a Johnson & Johnson subsidiary (manufacturer of Tylenol), alerted J & J's global head of epidemiology about a disturbing scientific review. 

As reported in the Epoch Times, the review "concluded that nine studies suggested that use of acetaminophen—the active ingredient in Tylenol—by pregnant women was linked to autism and other neurodevelopmental issues in the women’s children." Weinstein added that “[t]he weight of evidence is starting to feel heavy to me.”

Professor Zehan Liew of the Yale School of Public Health had this to say on the Tylenol controversy:

We do not know yet for sure whether acetaminophen [Tylenol's active ingredient]causes autism. Multiple observational studies conducted across different populations have shown associations between frequent and long-term use of acetaminophen in pregnancy and some negative effects on a child’s neurodevelopment.

In addition, a Harvard study reached similar findings. Andrea Baccarelli, Dean of the Harvard School of Public Health, reported on a "rigorous review" that "found evidence of an association between exposure to acetaminophen during pregnancy and increased incidence of neurodevelopmental disorders in children.” The study recommended that "[a]ppropriate and immediate steps should be taken to advise pregnant women to limit acetaminophen consumption to protect their offspring’s neurodevelopment."

Americans can conduct their own review on the possible link between Tylenol and autism; it's easily accessible online. Nevertheless, everyone should know that the Trump administration's advice about Tylenol is not baseless or absurd. 

Congresswoman DeLauro urged her constituents not to take medical advice from Secretary Kennedy. I encourage them not to take medical advice from DeLauro or the rabidly anti-Trump media.

Pay no attention to the purple-haired lady wearing green glasses.

 

Stick a fork in the Democrats: They're Done

Like I have a potty mouth, especially when I’m mad.

Representative Jasmine Crockett 

 Perhaps you've noticed that the United States no longer has a two-party political system.  

The Republicans are alive and kicking, propelled by an energetic septugenarian president. The Democrats, however, have devolved into "the Resistance." 

As demonstrated by today's government shutdown, the Dems no longer see a need to compromise on significant policy issues. Their congressional leaders are content to engage in bombastic, profanity-laced rhetoric and embarrassing public spectacles, like Representative Al Green's tantrum during President Trump's congressional address earlier this year.  

At the local level, Democratic-run cities are unable to keep crime in check, operate functional schools, or control illegal immigration. They care more about transgender sports than children's reading proficiency.

The Democrats' elites realize that they have no hope of winning the next presidential election. The swing states are shifting red, and voter registration patterns favor the Republicans. California Governor Gavin Newsom has a better chance of becoming the Pope than being sworn in as the next POTUS. As for Illinois Governor JB Pritzker, he comes off to most voters as a real-life Jabba the Hutt.

The Democrats' new strategy is to sabotage American culture and undermine democratic values from their sinecures in blue states, blue cities, and safely blue congressional districts. Their party leaders--Chuck Schumer, Adam Schiff, Bernie Sanders, AOC, Jasmine Crockett, the Squad--seem to think their jobs are simply to be obnoxious.

However, the Democrats have one last chance to regain relevance. If they pour millions of dollars into key congressional districts during the 2026 election season, they may be able to recover the majority in the House of Representatives. 

If the Democrats regain control of the House, they'll pass an impeachment resolution to oust Trump. Of course, the Senate will never vote to impeach him, but the histrionics around an impeachment effort will give Democratic politicians media visibility.

Even if the Democrats recapture the House of Representatives, they are done as a viable political party.  Americans in the Heartland are sick of them, and there are enough voters in Flyover Country to consign the Democratic Party to the dustbin of history.

The Democrats are done. Stick a fork in them.

Our Madmen Assassins: Their Political Ideologies May Not Matter

Over the course of a few weeks, assassins with murky motives have murdered strangers with guns.  Robin Westman, an 18-year-old, shot up a Catholic mass in Minneapolis, killing two children and wounding 18 more. Tyler Robinson, age 22, allegedly assassinated Charlie Kirk, a young, conservative Christian spokesperson, while he was speaking on a Utah college campus. Then, more recently. Joshua Jahn, twenty-nine years old, shot into a Dallas ICE facility, killing a Hispanic detainee and wounding two others.

Two of the assassins--Robinson and Jahn-- shot themselves at their killing sites. Tyler Robinson, the man who reportedly killed Kirk, was captured alive.

Politicians and the legacy media have attempted to identify the political ideologies of these murderers. Some commentators blame right-wing politics for the violence, while others argue that political violence is most often associated with leftist ideologies.

I don't think the political leanings of these madmen explain their violent actions or are even relevant. They're all nuts. 

Without exception, the killers are young men suffering from mental illness, although a few identify as women. They are isolated, lonely guys who spend too much time playing video games, and most of them probably smoke too much marijuana. They don't have a girlfriend or romantic partner. None of these killers has a clear vocational identity or any hope of joining the workforce. None of them dream of owning a home, marrying, or raising a family.

 In short, all these sadsacks are losers, not in the perjorative sense but in the existential sense. These guys were never going anywhere in life, and they all know it. 

So, why not get a gun, preferably a semi-automatic assault rifle, and start killing people? By committing murder, at least they'll get their 15 minutes of fame, a brief burst of online notoriety.

Every time a school shooting or mass killing occurs, left-wingers call for gun control. But that horse has already left the barn. The United States has almost 400 million guns in circulation, more than one gun for every man, woman, and child. We will never get those firearms out of circulation, even if we had the political will to try.

And rifles and pistols are cheap. Even a guy working at McDonald's can afford an off-brand assault rifle. 

Our society is to blame for all this carnage. What kind of world have we created that has caused some men to invest in killing tools rather than marriage, a family, and a vocation?

ICE to Deport an Iowa School Superintendent: A Story with No Heroes

Ian Roberts, a citizen of Guyana, entered the United States under a student visa in 1999. He obtained four degrees in the U.S., including a doctorate from Trident University. 

While in the U.S., Roberts pursued a career in public education, holding jobs in California, Maryland, Missouri, New York, the District of Columbia, Iowa, and Pennsylvania. He is the author or co-author of at least three books, including Radical Empathy in Leadership, published in 2021, and The Power of Seven Second Chances (co-authored with Nicole Price in 2023).

In sum, until last week, Roberts was enjoying a brilliant career in public education. He was Superintendent of the Des Moines School District, Iowa's largest school system, pulling down a salary of $286,000 a year. According to his supporters, almost everyone in Des Moines loved him.

Then it all came crashing down. Unbeknownst to the Des Moines school board, Roberts was not an American citizen, and his federal work permit had expired. An immigration judge had issued a deportation order against Roberts in May 2024.

On Saturday, September 26, ICE agents sought to arrest Roberts, but he allegedly fled in his vehicle. With the help of Iowa law enforcement officers, he was apprehended and jailed. Police found a loaded handgun in his abandoned vehicle.

Roberts's supporters maintain that he's an excellent school administrator who should not be deported. Des Moines School Board Chair Jackie Norris called for her community to show "radical empathy" for him, a sly reference to one of Dr. Roberts's book titles. Demonstrators protested Roberts's detention, whom Time Magazine described as a "beloved superintendent."

However, Roberts' civic record is not unblemished. He was cited in Pennsylvania for illegally possessing a loaded firearm in a vehicle in 2022, and federal sources claim he was charged with a weapons violation in 2020. The loaded handgun that police reportedly found in Roberts's vehicle last weekend is another blemish on his record.

I confess I have some sympathy for Dr. Roberts. After all, he's resided in this country for a quarter of a century, and his federal work authorization didn't expire until 2020. Thus, he was a legal resident in the U.S. for more than two decades.  

Roberts's supporters say the embattled school leader is the target of an "overzealous and racist administration," but I disagree. It's more accurate to say that Roberts's predicament is an example of a poorly administered immigration process. 

Deportation is a harsh penalty to impose on a man who has a strong record of public service as an educator. Nevertheless, Roberts is partly responsible for his woes. ICE alleges that Roberts possessed a loaded handgun on the day he was arrested. If the charge is true, that fact won't help him avoid deportation.

Ian Roberts. Photo credit: Coppin State University

Would RFK Jr. be Welcome at Cid's Natural Food Market? Make America Healthy Again

My father built a cabin in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of New Mexico not far from the historic town of Taos. My family has vacationed there for more than 60 years, and over that time I've seen the sleepy town of Taos transformed into an upscale vacation destination and skiing community.

It was inevitable then that Cid's Food Market, a natural food store, would open in Taos, where affluent, health-conscious shoppers can buy organically grown vegetables, grass-fed meat, and other food that isn't ultra processed or laced with preservatives.

Cid's groceries are expensive, but I shop there occasionally beause it's conveniently located on the road to my family's cabin. I dropped in a few days ago and bought a bag of groceries costing me $132.

Among my purchases was a green chilie and bacon quiche, expensive but very good. I also bought a loaf of rustic bread--all natural ingredients and no preservatives. Also very tasty.

I observed my fellow shoppers--a few aging hippies from the days of Easy Rider but mostly affluent people with ample disposable income and a desire to eat healthy food. I wondered: what are the politics of people who shop at Cid's?

I suspect everyone in the store are Democrats--people who voted for Joe Biden in 2020 and Kamala Harris in 2024. If I were to walk into Cid's in a MAGA hat or a Trump campaign button, I might spark a heated confrontation.

How do these folks feel about HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and his Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) campaign? Do they appreciate Kennedy's efforts to improve our nation's food supply and eliminate ultra-proccessed corn syrup in so many packaged foods? Do they approve of his work to lower our obesity rates and diabetes diagnoses?

I hope I am wrong, but I suspect the nation's healthy food community lump Secretary Kennedy's MAHA campaign with Trumpian politics, Indeed, as some Democratic Senators maintain, they may have written Kennedy off as a wingnut and and anti-vaccine zealot.

If so, that is unfortunate. In this time of heated partisan rhetoric and hyperbolic speech, I believe Americans need to become more discerning in shaping their political philosophies. Whatever progressives may think about Donald Trump and the MAGA movement, they should celebrate the appointment of RFK Jr. as the nation's Secretary of Health and Human Services. 

Finally, a guy has shown up in Washington who is alarmed by the fact that Americans are the unhealthiest people in the developed world. Kennedy wants to make us healthy again, and we should show him our support. And we should rebuke the Senate Democrats--Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, Maggie Hassan, Ben Ray Lujan, etc.-- who are trying to discredit and destroy him.

Second Thoughts About the Death Penalty After Charlie Kirk's Assassination

Yesterday, my local newspaper ran a story about a 25-year-old man charged with raping a four-year-old girl. According to the news report, the man, who had a history of indecent behavior with juveniles, infected the child with chlamydia, a sexually transmitted disease.

What punishment is appropriate for such an offense?

A few months ago, a 45-year-old man shouting "Free Palestine" set Jewish Americans on fire in Boulder, Colorado. An 82-year-old woman died from her injuries. 

What is a just punishment for such a vicious, racially motivated hate crime?

Earlier this week, an assassin killed Charlie Kirk while he was speaking on a university campus in Utah. Kirk, a conservative political activist, was 31 years old with a wife and two small children.

A 22-year-old Tyler Robinson was arrested. If convicted, what should be done with him?

When I was a college student, I took a class in criminology, which included a field trip to the Oklahoma's maximum-security prison. The warden was our tour guide, and he appeared to take pleasure in showing students the prison's death chamber, where the electric chair was displayed. 

I recall the wooden chair was fitted with restraining straps and a metal cap with wires attached. It looked like a medieval torture device.

I also remember a viewing area where seated spectators could watch a prisoner being electrocuted. Over the chair was a large sign stating "Crime Doesn't Pay."

All the students were shocked by the scene. I, however, was overcome by nausea, physically sickened and frightened by what I saw.

From that moment until this week, I've been opposed to the death penalty. Gazing on the electric chair,  I was overcome by the brutality and ugliness of capital  punishment. I felt coursened by the sight of that chair and by the fact that I lived in a society that would kill a man in such a way.

This week, however, I re-examined my stance on capital punishment. I asked myself whether there are some crimes so heinous, so destructive to moral order, that the death penalty is the only appropriate punishment. Does society have the right and even the duty to signal its repugnance to certain violent acts by killing the perpetrator?

This morning, I was prepared to believe that a man who rapes a child deserves the death penalty as does a man who sets people on fire out of racial hatred. And I was certainly prepared to believe that the man who killed Charlie Kirk in cold blood should be executed.

But then I saw an image of  Tyler Robinson, the man who was arrested on the charge of murdering Charlie Kirk. So young, so confused, so obsessed with violence. 

If Robinson is convicted of this killing, he certainly deserves to die, and society has the moral right to execute him. Nevertheless, I hope the state of Utah doesn't inflict the death sentence because killing Tyler Robinson coursens us all.

Rather. I hope he is sentenced to a very long prison sentence, perhaps life in prison. After all. as Pope Francis observed, a life sentence is a death sentence, and that should satisfy society's sense of justice.

Weekend at Lake Mary: Gratitude and Expectations on a Mississippi Autumn Morning

The days I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations, those are good days.

Ray Wylie Hubbard

I have suffered from insomnia for at least 65 years. Even as a small child, I had trouble sleeping, and my inability to nod off easily made me perpetually anxious about the coming day.

Perhaps this affliction could be traced to the stories my father told me when I was four years old about his years in a Japanese concentration camp during World War II. He often described fellow prisoners who starved themselves to death, committed suicide, or drowned when a prison ship sank and they didn't know how to swim. 

I interpreted my father's stories to be a message that weak people die when confronted by hardship, and I felt certain at age four that I would never be strong enough to survive what my father endured as a Japanese prisoner of war. My father ate bugs and lizards to stay alive, and I could hardly swallow broccoli!

Or perhaps my nighttime anxieties sprang from my encounters with the hell-and-brimstone Protestant religion that my childhood friends practiced and my fantasies about roasting on hot coals for eternity because I was a Methodist and not baptized by immersion like my playmates.

Now I'm in the evening of life and sleep better, especially when I'm home on Lake Mary in southern Mississippi. Last weekend, I slept exceptionally well and awoke refreshed just before 5 AM. I told myself it would be a good day because I planned to mow my property's four-acre woodlot. I would start early and finish my work before the day turned hot.

Some of my family members are early risers and nearly always start the day before me, but I woke up long before dawn that morning. The darkened house was quiet when I walked into the kitchen. I pushed the brew button on Mr. Coffee, which began gurgling benignly, filling the kitchen with the heavenly fragrance of dark-roast Community coffee.

I found a pack of Pillsbury biscuits in the refrigerator and a pound of Wright's thick-cut smoked bacon. I opened the biscuit package, placed eight dough globs on a baking sheet, and slipped them in the oven to cook.

I fried bacon while the biscuits baked, and in a few moments, I had prepared a feast. I buttered the biscuits, smothered them with mayhaw jelly, and made bacon-and-jelly biscuit sandwiches, which I ate with my coffee.

Knox, my family's genial springer spaniel, woke when he heard me stirring. He smelled the bacon and came into the kitchen, subtly letting me know he was joining me for breakfast. 

"No, Knox," I told him, "this bacon isn't for you," but I warmed a hot dog for him in the skillet and poured the warm bacon grease over his dry dog food. Knox seemed satisfied.

It was dark outside, and there was no sign yet of dawn. I sipped my coffee and ate my simple meal silently, pleasantly conscious that I had no morning newspaper to read or email to open. 

Gradually, the sun introduced itself with long shadows creeping over the roof from the east and casting its pale light on Lake Mary. The lake was placid with no wind this morning, and the water looked bluish white in the predawn ambience.

Finally, the morning sun rose high enough to dominate the day, and it was light enough for me to begin mowing the four-acre woodlot with my zero-turn lawnmower. The grass was overlong because the mower broke down the last time I mowed, and it took me several days to get the replacement part I needed to drive the lawnmower blades.

Would my mower start? I asked myself, and suddenly recalled repeatedly pulling the starter rope on my family's Briggs & Stratton push mower when I was a kid. The misery!

Fortunately, my Toro zeo-turn mower has a battery, not a starter rope, and the engine roared to life with one turn of its key. I set the cutting level at three inches, and soon I was off, riding in padded comfort into the woodlot.

I drove slowly and cautiously to keep the long grass and weeds from overwhelming the mower.  As I crept over the field, I stirred up dust and bugs, but I'd smeared insect repellent over me--the good stuff, laced with DEET. The bugs didn't bother me.

I remembered mowing 40-acre fields when I was young, pulling a brush hog behind my father's John Deere tractor hour after hour. I suffered from asthma as a teenager and self-medicated with double doses of Dristan--eight pills a day.

To stay hydrated on mowing days, I'd make a couple of gallons of Nestea instant tea in a plastic jug, sweeten it with copious amounts of sugar, and fill the jug with ice from the old-fashioned ice trays that I'd take from my family's venerable Frigidaire.

I would end every summer day of mowing covered with dust and grit and my face blackened by diesel smoke. Even my teeth would be black.

This day, however, I only had four acres to mow, and if I needed refreshment, I could get a cold beer out of the refrigerator--much better than powered instant tea.

If I cut my grass weekly, the mowing job takes less than three hours. It would take longer on this day because the grass was so long. Nevertheless, I was starting early while the day was still cool, and I would be shaded for much of the time by the lot's many trees--cypresses, red oaks, pecan trees, and sycamores.

And so I traversed my woodlot, moving along slowly and steadily, taking satisfaction from seeing my property slowly transformed into a neatly clipped, tree-shaded lawn.

 I was finished before noon--just in time to watch the New Orleans Saints play the Cardinals. My wife grilled venison burgers from a deer I shot in January.

It was a good day. As Ray Wylie Hubbard might have said, my gratitude exceeded my expectations. I was grateful for my little piece of Mississippi ground, my wife and family, my riding lawnmower, my venison burger, and my cold beer.