The circus that the Lindsay Clancy trial has descended into is disgusting. I personally take little interest in these made-for-TV voyeuristic fetish fests. But, as with the O.J. trial, the Luigi Nicholas Mangione trial, and so many others, the grotesque sideshow on the front steps of the courthouse has overshadowed the actual trial.
Regarding the case itself, my opinion on its merits isn’t the focus of this article. Lindsay Clancy murdered her three children. The defense is claiming she suffered from postpartum psychosis. The prosecution is claiming that this was a carefully planned murder committed by a rational person. Some say her husband was neglectful; others say the healthcare system dropped the ball. In the end, only God knows for certain. The rest of us will have to trust the judgment of the jury.
In the interim, one would think the horror of three murdered children would humble even the most narcissistic members of the box wine-sipping activist class enough to take a step back from making everything about them. Guess not. And therein lies my own inexcusable naivete in assuming they can’t get any more despicable.
Yet here we are, with the “I Am Lindsay Clancy” movement. And the Free Palestine No Human Is Illegal This Is Stolen Land Feminists Versus the Patriarchy activists are out in force until the next news cycle. And the accusation is as predictable as it is tedious. The System has failed them. Not the three kids. Them.
Hundreds of these activists have gathered outside the courtroom wearing pink shirts with phrases such as “Believe,” “She Needed Help,” and “Peace For Lindsay.” Supporter April Vincent said, “Women are being dismissed, neglected, and ignored when we speak up. We’re scared because nobody takes us seriously.”
Well, April, certainly nobody takes you seriously. Better to be dismissed, neglected, and ignored than strangled to death in a cold basement, eh? But to the serious “feminists” out seriously marching in serious support of Lindsay Clancy, I would pose a few serious questions:
Did you march in support of Riley Gaines and the countless other women whose sports have been invaded, whose victories have been stolen, and whose decades of hard work have been negated?
Did you march in support of Iryna Zarutska, who was brutally and senselessly murdered by a career felon while on her way home from work on a light-rail train in Charlotte?
Did you march in support of Laken Riley, Kate Steinle, Rachel Morin, Mollie Tibbetts, or Jocelyn Nungaray, all of whom were brutally murdered in cold blood?
Did you march for Paula Jones, Juanita Broaddrick, Kathleen Willey, or Tara Reade when they credibly accused powerful men of sexual misconduct?
Did you march for the hundreds of women who were sexually assaulted on New Year’s Eve in Cologne, Germany?
Did you march for the reported quarter million women and girls who were gang-raped in Britain, with the full blessing and assistance of the British government?
And if not, why not? In every single example above, men were the aggressors against innocent women, and those men were ignored, excused, aided, abetted, and even celebrated by The System. If you supported The System for doing so, then you don’t care about women. You’re a Machiavellian opportunist who supports women only when it’s politically convenient to do so.
The American Psychiatric Association has no official diagnosis for postpartum psychosis. Are you surprised? They’ve spent half of Lindsay Clancy’s lifetime positing that there is no such thing as a woman. Wouldn’t you think that The System first needs to define what a woman and a mother are before it can define what postpartum psychosis is? Otherwise, I myself, a biological male, could claim that I am a mother suffering from postpartum psychosis. And I would be “living my truth.” And you would be a hateful bigot if you didn’t fully accommodate me.
Where do you pro-Lindsay marchers stand on this? In the interests of tackling postpartum psychosis, can you at least provide us with a definition of a woman? Because Ketanji Brown Jackson can’t. Did you support her nomination after she threw your gender under the bus?
But if you remain indignant that The System fails people along gender lines, we can delve a little deeper into your theory.
Men account for 80% of suicides in the United States. Once you factor in marital separation, divorced men are nine times more likely to commit suicide than divorced women. The unemployment rate is higher for men. The homelessness rate is higher for men. On average, men die five years earlier than women. Men are more likely to die from cancer than women. Men account for over 90% of all workplace fatalities.
Tonight, over 30,000 military veterans, almost all of them men, will sleep on the streets. These are people who spent years defending your precious right to march for Lindsay. This isn’t a problem you’re unaware of. You are very uncomfortably aware of it, which is why you turn your head and try to avoid eye contact every time you pass one of them. You expect the world to stop spinning to acknowledge your grievances, but you can’t even give a homeless vet a single dollar.
So, yeah. It would seem that The System sucks for a lot of people, not just angry feminists who need a cause to fill the void in their lives. The System fails women whose murders and sexual assaults and stolen scholarships are politically inconvenient. The System fails American workers who trust that their leaders won’t outsource their labor to the Third World. The System fails black people who want to see their neighborhoods policed. The System fails California residents who trust that their local fire departments are competently led. The System fails white people who are punished by DEI regimes for the color of their skin.
The System fails children who had two years of schooling during critical years stolen from them, elderly relatives who were isolated from their families and left to die in group homes, and a citizenry who assumed that their elected leaders weren’t funneling their tax money to create man-made diseases in connivance with communist governments.
The System fails merit and competence. The System fails honesty and integrity. The System fails good, moral people. The System fails the American Dream. That’s what it does.
And that’s what it was designed to do, on the premise that more funding, more clout, more advocacy, more focus groups, more government grants, and more control will “fix” the problem once and for all.
But until the Lindsay Clancy Fan Club concedes that we’re all in this together and The System has not uniquely targeted them, they’re gonna keep tripping over their Birkenstocks and landing on one of their dozen pet cats.
Either we’re on the same team, or we’re not. If you’re marching because you recognize that The System is a worthless leviathan of bureaucratic putrescence, and you’d like to make it a little less worthless, then I’m by your side. If you’re marching because awareness of postpartum psychosis is the cause you are sincerely prioritizing in good faith, then I’m on your side. If you’re marching because you are a mother who has legitimately suffered from postpartum psychosis, then I’m by your side.
But if you’re marching out of a cynical, narcissistic attempt to make yourself the victim in this macabre mess, then maybe you’re the one who needs a mental evaluation. You are not Lindsay Clancy. You are not special. You are not the victim of The System. You are The System.
There are only three victims here. Cora. Dawson. Callan.
Say their names.
Instead of your own.
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