I am a skeptic. While I dislike pigeonholing myself with such an effusive label, the true definition of the word is a fair characterization. Many people misunderstand the meaning and assume that a skeptic is someone that instantly rejects everything, and believes nothing. That is descriptive if a Nihilist, not a skeptic. The word itself comes from “skeptikos” in Greek, meaning “thoughtful or reflective.”

I think, therefore I am.

Charlene Dorcy is not a skeptic. Charlene is willing to accept anything anyone says as truth without evidence, either clinical or otherwise, to support their claims. Charlene believes in “natural medicine,” herbal cures, homeopathic treatments, reiki healing, psychic touch, “intuitive medicine” and who knows what else. Charlene is a moron, or rather, was a moron. These days, Charlene is something else.

Normally, your run of the mill moron, into tea therapy and chakra alignment and getting needles put into their skin, is not a real danger to anyone but themselves. They spend millions collectively to buy pills filled with water, pay unqualified people to jab them with steel, “crack” their bones and wave their hands around their aura going “woo-woo” and all it proves is that they’re assholes that are easily impressed and more easily relieved of their money. But Charlene is a beast of a different color.

Charlene is a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. Her doctors prescribed a cocktail of anti-psychotic and anti-depressant medications to control her violent hallucinatory tendencies, and allow her to live as close to a ”normal” life as someone with such a disability could. This was not good enough for Charlene. Charlene believed that “natural” medicine had the answer she needed. After all, the people who sell these callogen pills filled with grass, claim on their websites to cure what ails me and guarantee no side effects, right?

The “woo-woo” crowd strikes again.

Charlene stopped taking the medicine prescribed by the trained and educated healthcare professionals in favor of several “herbal cures” manufactured by Chinese kelp farmers with third grade educations. I only wish the consequences were as amusing as he stupidity.

In June of 2004, four years after abandoning the medication she’d been prescribed, Charlene took her two young daughters, Brittney and Jessica, age 2 and 4 respectively, to the bottom of the rock quarry in Pinchot National Forest in Washington State, and murdered them with a hunting rifle. Yesterday, she was convicted on two counts of first-degree murder and was sentenced to a paltry 63 years in prison for the deaths of her own children.



During the court session, Charlene delivered a rambling and unfocused speech to the courtroom, never mentioning her children, but lambasting anyone that might judge her for her crimes. In her words, “Unless you’re vegetarian, every time you eat meat, you’re a murderer.”

…
An open letter to Charlene Dorcy and the hippies of the Pacific Northwest,

You worthless, murderous, psychotic, pathetic, evil, twisted hippy fuck. Even without a scrap of faith in the myth of extra-worldy justice, I find great solace and comfort imagining you slowly roasting in hell, screaming in agonizing pain, in the company of the demonic hordes and their blunt and rusty tools of eternal torture. You should be publicly flayed, doused in salt, flayed again, tarred, feathered, toothed, drawn and quartered.

And you, you hippy fucks, this is what you have begat. A woman who feels more remorse for the death of chickens and cows than the brutal and senseless murders of her own young children, a death she herself wreaked upon them with an old rifle at the bottom of a filthy rock quarry. A woman whose acceptance of your comfortable distrust for “western medicine” and embrace of your ridiculous claims of “natural health” and “herbal purity” came at the cost of two beautiful and innocent lives.




You miserable, worthless, asinine, self-important, “can you pass the organic, non-gmo, macrobiotic, homeopathic soybeans” pieces of shit. You and your monstrous ilk care more for fish and birds than for men and women. Your quaint faith in the claims of charlatans is exposed as fashionable idiocy. Your lives are exposed as privileged hypocrisy, and you have blood on your hands.

It happens again and again, the questions comes to “what harm can it do?”

The “woo-woo” crowd strikes again, but this time they’ve shown us how dangerous they really are. They care more about your cat than they do about you. They care more about “feelings” than results.

But after all, what harm can it do?