MR WRONG: Brain goes blah, fingers go click-click
Indignity Vol. 5, No. 19
COLUMN DEP’T.
MR WRONG: Just Keep Putting One Word in Front of the Other
I REALLY DIDN’T feel like making a Mr. Wrong column today, because every once in a while I get a little sad about the world, especially in this Economy, and when I get sad, I don’t want to do anything. I mean, when I get sad, I don’t even like to listen to music. When I get sad, I don’t want to watch teevee and sit on the couch and eat crunchies. When I get sad I just kinda don’t wanna do nothin’, you know? I mean, when I get sad I don’t even want to have a cold frosty beer or a delightful cocktail made outta Potent Potables, that’s my “pathology” or whatever, I kinda do the opposite of the typical application of alcohol, you know? I only want to get loaded when I’m happy, maybe they should study my Brain after I check out, eh? I’m making it official, somebody please do a Study of my Brain, Scientifically, after I am on the Rainbow Bridge to Valhalla or whatever, OK?
OK! Now, back to my topic, which is a paradox, I think, having a Topic about how I didn’t even want to start typing anything, column-wise, but here’s what happens. It’s corny, but I have a Responsibility to the Gentle Readers of the Mr. Wrong column, and I take that shit seriously, even when I am sad! Some people even give money to the Indignity site especially on account of the Mr. Wrong column, which is a little surprising, but also, it has created a Contract, and I am motivated to adhere, right? Motivation is not always one hundred percent pleasant and lovely, see, it can be Pressure, the kind needed to create the weekly Diamond that is the Mr. Wrong column, har!
Also, I really backed myself into a corner with my slogo or whatever, which is Always Be Columning, an Ethos which springs from my response to all the mopes who always wanna talk about what a tremendous effort it is to be a Writer, barf. Write stuff, fucko, that’s being a Writer. Some of it might be worth reading, but that has never been a particular concern of mine! Learn not to care about if the stuff you write is good! Most of it isn’t! Just saying, no offense. Meanwhile, here at the Mr. Wrong desk, we just type the fucking column! We take it so seriously that we start referring to ourselves as more than one being! We are legion! This might be a good section of today’s column to show to whoever they get to Scientifically analyze my brain, if Science is even legal by then, eh?
Anyway, see? I just put one fucking keystroke in front of the other and I got about 450 words of column, which is a large portion of a dose of the average Mr. Wrong column. So now, I’m like, jeez, I got this fucker half-typed typed or whatever, I’m on the downhill run, baby! I got this in the bag, see? This is sorta the power of Routine.
I read a thing about how people generally do better in life, as far as being alive in a pleasant manner, and notwithstanding, like, getting killed by guns and stuff, if they have a Routine, like if they socialize, for instance, it’s important to socialize, somehow, even if you don’t like most people, you gotta get together with some other human beings and interact, it does something for you. Church groups call it “Fellowship,” which just means being fellow beings, I guess. It’s a low bar for the quality of the interaction, possibly, but it’s important.
I bet animals count for socialization, like if you really hate people but you love animals, it’s good to have some around, and I’m not talking about these kooks who are Collectors, that’s an illness, these folks who have like a hundred cats and stuff. I mean, I like cats, we have a coupla cats in my home, but c’mon, there really is an amount of cats that is too many. Or people who have like a herd of the same type of dog, I saw a lady in Upstate NY who got on the news because she had a herd of fuckin’ Saint Bernard dogs, Jesus H. Canine, of all the dogs to have in mass quantities, oy vey, I cannot imagine the lawn at that place. Anyway, she got her dogs confiscated. What the hell was I talking about?
Oh yeah, Routine. I do not enjoy the company of most people, so I consider myself fortunate that there are a few groups of beings that I get together with on a regular-enough basis so that I am certain I am fulfilling the Routine and Socialization things that I agree help us stay alive and functioning, OK? I’m talking meeting for breakfast and/or luncheon, attending Cultural events such as Wrasslin’ or Bowling, you can scoff, but consider the alternative. To life, seriously, nobody fucking knows! For reals, you should self-Motivate. Stick around for your Three Score and Ten, or 20, whatever the conversion is for Metric. Do something! It doesn’t have to be great, look at me, cheered myself up and minted another perfect Mr. Wrong column, hiyo!
The MR. WRONG COLUMN is a general-interest column appearing weekly. No refunds. Write Wrong: wrongcolumn@gmail.com.
WEATHER REVIEWS
New York City, January 29, 2025
★★★ Clouds advanced in close procession, their shapes handsome and suggestive: a glimpse of musk ox, a bulging peapod, the British Isles. The air out on the stoop was mild for a moment and then the wind picked up and kept picking up. A loose clump of weave rolled back and forth like a tumbleweed. Angling sun made the store signs almost unreadable. A man weaved up Columbus Avenue on a skateboard, against traffic, playing "I Got the Feeling" on a portable speaker.
EASY LISTENING DEP'T.
HERE IS TODAY'S Indignity Morning Podcast.
Tom Scocca
Click on this box to find the Indignity Morning Podcast archive.
TOM SCOCCA
ADVICE DEP'T.
GOT SOMETHING YOU need to justify to yourself, or to the world at large? Other columnists are here to judge you, but The Sophist is here 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 A Book of Dorcas Dishes: Family Recipes Contributed by the Dorcas Society of Hollis and Buxton, edited by Kate Douglas Wiggin, printed in 1911 and available at archive.org for the delectation of all.
Indian Cellar Sandwiches
(Nora A. Smith)
- Tongue or ham minced.
- Equal parts of chicken and cold ham finely minced.
- Thin slices of cucumber dipped in French dressing.
- Sardines made to a paste with lemon juice.
- Minced hard-boiled eggs, 1 sardine to every 3, seasoned with lemon juice.
- Cold baked beans mashed to a paste and seasoned with mustard or chopped celery.
- Canned salmon mixed with hard-boiled eggs chopped fine.
- 5 heaping teaspoons powdered sugar, 2 of cocoa, and 2 of boiling water. Stir over the fire until smooth. Add a few drops of vanilla and cool.
- Orange marmalade.
- Cottage cheese and jam or marmalade.
- Cottage cheese, lettuce leaves, and French dressing.
- Peppergrass mixed with chopped hardboiled eggs.
[Ed. note: The Indian Cellar was a teahouse by the Saco River in Hollis, Maine. According to News Center Maine, it has been defunct and derelict for decades, with the scenic rapids beside it cut off by a dam, but the building is due to be rescued and relocated: "People would come across the bridge, which used to be right here, and sit on the banks of the gorge because the river hadn't filled in yet, and it was a bit of a destination spot."]
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.
