MR WRONG: Prayers up
Indignity Vol. 5, No. 129
COLUMN DEP’T.
MR WRONG: Where's a Terrible Swift Sword When You Need One?
ALRIGHT, LIKE I was saying last week, before I interrupted myself with all that off-topic crapola, I am not happy with the weather in my neighborhood, plus-also the whole fucking planet, and we got a buncha flat-earthers saying everything’s a hoax and the government is shutting down money to stuff that pays attention to the weather, and all those children got killed in those Texas floods because they didn’t do an alarm and the pinheads in the Halls of Power are saying all we can do is pray, and yeah, you know what? I will totally pray! Let’s pray, fuckos!
We pray, right now, on genuflected knees, that the HOLY SPIRIT doth descend to discipline all these smarmy creeps who are turning the dial back on My America, goddammit. This we pray, in the name of the ALMIGHTY, amen, and stuff.
We further pray to the MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE for the return of nice things, like Vaccinations! Against Pestilence!
We beseech the UNIVERSAL LIFE FORCE to aid the powers of the Wind and the Sun to provide cheap and plentiful electric energy so we can stop shitting into the lungs of the Earth with the carbon emissions of Satan.
Heretics say one cannot petition THE LORD with prayer, but in the Full Faith and Credit of The United States of America, we do so, as we pray for Public Television, and the funding thereof, which is, even as we speak these words of supplication, being threatened with nonexistence in the aforementioned and debased Halls of Power. We pray for the immortal souls of Cookie Monster, Grover, and the blessed Elmo, unless they already got bought by Home Box or Uncle Disney. Look, I don’t keep up with the Entertainment News because I am too immersed in my Prayers, OK? Amen again!
Also, we now—even though today some of us might have the misery in our lumbar region—fall down to prostrate ourselves upon the floor, and if I may take a moment, on a personal note, O LORD, it is the floor of my Rumpus Room, in the basement of my castle, where I have my desk, for which I give thanks to THE MAKER, the gift of a surface upon which to place my devices which unto and into I type the Mr. Wrong column, and I kowtow or whatever you wanna call it to the SUPREME BEING, who has given us so many wonderful things such as the Taco Bell Burrito Supreme®, not to mention the Crunchwrap Supreme®, of which there are many false supremes and pretenders, I beseech thee, O, great and powerful CREATOR, to open the eyes of the teeming millions who voted us into this abyss, so they shall see the error of their ways, hopefully not before they realize they lost a big chunk of their state Healthcare assistance because they didn’t understand it was funded by the federal government but I guess it is too late for that, eh, OMNIPOTENT ONE? Amen!
Also, again on a further-personal note, dear INFINITE SPIRIT AND PRIME MOVER, kindly smite mine enemies, to whom I say: Fuck you for your attention to this matter!
The MR. WRONG COLUMN is a general-interest column appearing weekly. No refunds. Write Wrong: wrongcolumn@gmail.com.
WEATHER REVIEWS
Bethany Beach, Delaware, July 16, 2025
★★★ A cloud held off the sun long enough for the walk out to the beach umbrella. The salt haze bashed up by the advancing tide cast everything in pastels. The cumulus formations were moving so slowly it was hard to judge which way they were moving at all until a distant patch of brighter, greener waters suddenly reached the shore and the air briefly warmed. Between the choppy, erratic waves and the ever-fleeting sun, there was never a propitious time to get out past the sandy churn and try for the swells. An extra-large wave overtook sand constructions and sent the occupant of an aggressively placed beach chair looking up from his phone and scrambling for drier ground. The waves hit heavily and bent the hips of a body turned flush to them. The bright periods grew rarer and gray parts started sagging lower from the clouds, as the indirect light showed off the wrinkles on the surface of the water. After it was finally time for giving up, full sun made a return appearance just to heat up the walk back. In late afternoon, the humidity and the lingering clouds meant the misting fans on the miniature golf course, rather than promoting cool evaporation, simply left the fake turf and the scorecard and passing shirts waterlogged.
EASY LISTENING DEP'T.
THE INDIGNITY MORNING Podcast is on vacation! Here is the Indignity Morning Podcast archive!
TOM SCOCCA
ADVICE DEP'T.
HEY! DO YOU like advice columns? They don't happen unless you send in some letters! Surely you have something you want to justify to yourself, or to the world at large. Now is the perfect time to share it with everyone else through The Sophist, the columnist who is not here to correct you, but to tell you why you're right. Direct your questions to The Sophist, at indignity@indignity.net, and get the answers you want.
SANDWICH RECIPES DEP'T.
WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS in aid of the assembly of sandwiches selected from Encyclopedia of Cookery; 1001 Recipes, Menus & Rules for Modern, Scientific and Economic Cookery (Vol. 4), by Eugene Christian and Molly Griswold Christian, published by the Corrective Eating Society in 1920, and available at archive.org for the delectation of all.
CHICKEN SANDWICHES TOASTED
Slice the bread and spread with melted butter or mayonnaise dressing, then place over this thin slices of chicken and a bit of chopped parsley. Press the pieces of bread together firmly and toast both sides, butter and serve.
CLUB SANDWICHES
Cooked chicken
Lettuce
Tomatoes
Bacon
Salad dressing
Toast
A bit of chopped parsley
On a slice of buttered toast, place a lettuce leaf spread with mayonnaise dressing and a thin slice of chicken. Over this another piece of lettuce, then mayonnaise, then a piece of crisp bacon and a bit of chopped parsley, then the thin slice of tomato, more lettuce and dressing. Press firmly together the first and second piece of toast. Cut in half, garnish with lettuce hearts, serve.
If you decide to prepare and attempt to enjoy a sandwich inspired by this offering, be sure to send a picture to indignity@indignity.net .
SELF-SERVING SELF-PROMOTION DEP'T.
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