That's how the Pennsylvania Board of Medical Examiners described Dr. Kermit Gosnell's baby-murdering clinic and opium den a year ago, after a raid by federal agents found blood on the floor.
Today the Philadelphia District Attorney described it as a "baby charnel house". Gosnell kept parts of fetuses in jars all over the office. He performed "abortions" on breathing babies by severing their spinal cords after delivery. According to one report, the place was run as much by Gosnell as by an unlicensed graduate of the medical school we fought to liberate in the Grenada invasion, who doubled as a drug pusher. Gosnell was sued for malpractice 46 times. Women were butchered by the unlicensed staff, and left to moan in pain all day, until Gosnell arrived late at night with his morphine.
In the understatement of the year, Gosnell's defense attorney described the charges against his client as "very, very serious," and urged people not to rush to judgment. Of course, I agree. I'll presume his innocence right up until the jury pronounces him guilty of the monstrous crimes of which he's as guilty as Judas.
Yet Gosnell's clinic, before it was raided by federal agents in 2010, hadn't been inspected in sixteen years. Evidently cheesesteak joints are held to a higher standard in Philadelphia than doctors.
The worst part is, the city and state medical authorities knew the place was a filthy malpractice trap, even if they didn't know it was a murder factory. They did nothing to shut it down.
The temptation, when horror stories like this come to light, is to say "We need more government to prevent this sort of thing," or perhaps, "We have all this government and this is what we get? We need less government." That isn't the lesson I take from Gosnell's house of horrors, for which you can read the full grand jury report in all its monstrous detail here.
This is a story about bad government. The city and state knew, but didn't do a damned thing. Gosnell was enabled by the people paid to watch him. He was enabled by the attorneys who sued him and advised their clients to sign confidentiality agreements. He was enabled by the malpractice insurance companies who kept his practice afloat in return for premiums. Heads should roll all over Pennsylvania.
Or if there's justice, they should be snipped off and placed in formaldehyde jars.