The bizarre fandom around is the latest example of a moral rot infecting a small cohort of conspiracy-minded, self-engrossed women.
In a clear case of female empathy gone awry, they have transformed a Mᴀssachusetts nurse who strangled her three babies into the sole victim in this tragedy, while demonizing their poor father, Patrick.
The murdered children, Cora, 5; Dawson, 3; and Callan, 8 months, barely get a mention in the outpouring of who has become a vehicle for the “TikTok Moms’ ” own fake victimhood.
Lindsay has pleaded not guilty to the 2023 murder of her children who she methodically strangled, one by one, with exercise bands after sending Patrick out to pick up dinner and medications. She does not dispute that she killed the children but claims she was “suffering from psychosis at the time.”
The prosecution contends she “acted intentionally, rationally, and swiftly to accomplish a very specific goal — to kill . . . She knew exactly .”
The five-week trial has been televised to an increasingly obsessive audience of true crime nuts, ᴀssorted snoops and a disturbing number of women who have taken to filming themselves holding babies and whining about how hard it is to be a mom.
Some women even caption their TikTok videos “Same, Lindsay.”
It’s a twisted form of attention-seeking in the guise of empathy. These women are normalizing the horror of a mother killing her children, making it seem like a natural response to the everyday challenges of child-rearing, which far-less privileged women have managed to navigate since the dawn of time, like every other challenge in life.
‘We are all Lindsay’
Lindsay fans have raised almost $1 million in the name of her parents, and hundreds dressed in pink and rallied for her outside the court last week.
“We are all Lindsay” is their sick message.
One woman sobbed on camera that Lindsay can’t hug her children’s stuffed toys because her cruel husband supposedly threw them away. But what about the children who can’t hug their toys? The father who can’t hug his children?
It’s the same inversion behind the Luigi Mangione fangirls, the London mob who valorized Cambridge hoaxer Jason Arday and the demonization of Erika Kirk.
The hand in hand with the left’s upending of the moral order, in which sympathy is reserved for murderers, rapists and illegal migrant child molesters while police must be defunded, ICE abolished and prisons closed.
Lindsay Clancy watches as her attorney Kevin Reddington prepares to interview a witness during proceedings in her murder trial, Friday, Aug. 21, 2026, in Plymouth, Mᴀss.Mark Chavous/Pool The Enterprise via AP
The Clancy trial is simply a promotional vehicle for this new amorality.
There is a soap opera pathos to this real-life drama of a perfect family brutalized by unspeakable tragedy.
Each day, the people who loved the children best have been called to the witness box: the husband, the parents, the in-laws, the sister, the friends, the nanny — all with the same haunted look. You wonder at the public interest of televising their private grief.
Patrick’s father, Chris Clancy, described them as “the all-American family” and praised Lindsay as a “very, very good mother.”
True anguish
But unlike a soap opera, there are no , apart from the one person who committed the crime, whose suffering is impossible to discount.
Lindsay, 36, presents as a sympathetic figure in court. She is in a wheelchair because a suicide attempt left her paralyzed from the waist down. She sits wan and mostly silent, quietly sobbing when the children are mentioned, her face half-hidden by her long, lustrous brown hair.
In a moment that encapsulates the heartbreak of this family cataclysm, she broke down one day during graphic autopsy testimony, whimpering “I can’t do this” as a medical examiner described the ligature marks around Cora’s neck and the broken blood vessels in her eyes and said it would have been a painful death for the little girl.
Only a heart of stone could fail to be .
But she showed her children no mercy that day and this trial is for them. Prosecutor Shanan Buckingham makes that point to the jury by wearing bows in her hair every day in memory of Cora who loved big bows in her soft blonde hair.
All three children died the same painful way; Dawson first, then Cora and finally baby Callan, who was still alive when paramedics found him but died in the hospital.
After strangling her children, in the basement while she went upstairs to her bedroom, slit her wrists and throat and threw herself out the second-story window onto the snow-covered lawn below where her husband found her when he returned from the errands she had sent him on.
You wonder how a woman could inflict such unimaginable cruelty on her husband, let alone her children.
First responders on the scene described primal howls of pain coming from the basement when Patrick found his babies after paramedics arrived to treat his wife.
Demonized dad
Evidence before the court is that the and neck were superficial, leading the prosecution to suggest that it was a fake suicide attempt, which the defense denies. She almost died.
Lindsay has said she heard a voice instructing her to kill the kids and her lawyers claim she was suffering from postpartum psychosis, a rare ailment that usually occurs immediately after childbirth, not eight months later.
Patrick, 38, is admirably stoic in his testimony but when asked to describe each of his children, he could barely get the words out. He and his parents have been remarkably sympathetic to Lindsay in their testimony, describing her as a devoted mother. He comes across as a patient, thoughtful husband who did everything humanly possible to help his wife with an illness he couldn’t fully fathom.
He has since remarried, which is deemed a capital offense by the Lindsay fans who interpret his stoicism as guilt.
Lisa Rinna, the pneumatic-lipped actress of “Real Housewives” fame, is typical of this halfwit crew, and took to social media last week to allege: “Patrick’s the one who did it . . . Not Lindsay. Patrick did it. Because [I] heard that women, typically, don’t strangle.”
It’s hard to understand why the grieving father is subject to such vitriol, other than the fact that he’s a man, which is a crime in itself to the perpetually angry TikTok brigades.
Closing arguments begin this week so we will soon see if the jury finds Lindsay mad or bad. Either way she will be locked away for a long time, whether in jail or a psychiatric facility.
That’s sad, but her children deserve more sympathy for the lives they never had a chance to live.
💔 STELLA PARTON BREAKS HER SILENCE — What She Said About Dolly’s Health Has Fans Looking Back
Dolly Parton’s Sister Breaks Silence What Really Happened - GMT - G1
Stella Parton was born May 4, 1949, the sixth of twelve children raised by Robert Lee and Avie Lee Parton in Sevierville, Tennessee — a household defined by noise, limited money, and almost no privacy, the kind of environment that produced strong, determined personalities.
Stella was one of them.
By seven, she was appearing alongside her older sister Dolly on a Knoxville television program; by her teens, she was writing her own songs, though marriage and motherhood pulled music to the margins of her life for a stretch.
The dream never fully disappeared.
In 1967, she recorded a gospel album with her mother and sisters, and later worked clubs in Washington, D.C., before founding her own record label in 1975 and releasing “I Want to Hold You in My Dreams Tonight,” which climbed to number nine on the country charts.
Long before any of that commercial success, Stella had already shown a willingness to take positions others avoided.
At 26, amid backlash against Australian singer Olivia Newton-John for winning recognition in country music, Stella recorded “Ode to Olivia” in her defense — a stand that offered her no career benefit and real risk of criticism, but one she took anyway simply because she believed staying silent was the wrong choice.
That instinct defined the rest of her career: hits like “The Danger of a Stranger” and “Steady as the Rain” (written by Dolly) built a genuine, independent following, including in the U.K., while Stella also worked in New York theater and spoke openly, often controversially, about poverty, domestic violence, and the treatment of women in the music industry.
She was named the Christian Country Music Association’s Female Vocalist of the Year in 2004.
Through all of it, she remained defined publicly, more often than not, as simply “Dolly’s little sister” — a label she spent five decades quietly proving didn’t tell the full story.
That same directness is why her comments in the fall of 2025 carried real weight.
Stella had never positioned herself as the family’s image manager or spokesperson; she was, by reputation, someone who believed difficult truths shouldn’t stay hidden indefinitely.
What she described wasn’t dramatic or accusatory — it was a portrait of a woman who had spent years prioritizing everyone else’s needs over her own.
The context mattered.
Carl Dean, Dolly’s husband of nearly sixty years, died in March 2025 at 82, after a long illness during which Dolly had devoted herself almost entirely to his care.
She later acknowledged that in the process, she’d neglected her own health significantly.
The loss reverberated through the whole extended family — the Partons had lost three brothers in the years surrounding this period, compounding grief that, for a family that had once crowded twelve children into a single small home, meant losing pieces of a shared childhood one after another.
Stella herself went seven years without releasing new music during this stretch, later describing the period simply as one shaped by sorrow, while still speaking about the importance of finding moments of laughter within it.
Looking back, one moment reads very differently in hindsight than it did at the time: in late September 2025, Dolly postponed her planned Las Vegas residency, citing health challenges — a rare cancellation for a performer whose six-decade career had included very few of them.
At the time, most fans treated it as a minor, temporary setback.
Stella’s later reflections suggested the signs had actually been building for some time, visible to family in ways the public smile made easy to miss.
That concern crystallized publicly not long after, when Dolly’s younger sister Frieda posted a simple request on Facebook asking fans to pray for Dolly.
What looked at first like an ordinary, well-meaning gesture spread rapidly, sparking widespread speculation about how serious Dolly’s condition actually was.
Dolly herself responded directly within days, appearing in a video from a Grand Ole Opry commercial shoot, insisting with her familiar humor that she wasn’t finished yet — the now widely remembered “I ain’t dead yet” moment that briefly quieted public concern.
In the months that followed, the pattern repeated: reassuring updates about kidney stones, dehydration, and treatment, paired with continued work on new projects, right up until Dolly Parton’s death on August 25, 2026, at 80.
Looking back across that full timeline — the postponed residency, the family’s public worry, Stella’s own account of a sister who consistently deprioritized her own wellbeing — it becomes easier to see what the people closest to Dolly understood well before the rest of the world did: that the warmth and resilience the public saw every time she appeared on camera came at a real, largely invisible cost.
