Skip to main content

21st Century Problems: Episode 1 (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)


A man asked me the other day if he could use the internet in my home. I asked him why he had to use the internet and he claimed he was waiting on an important e-mail and that his internet had suddenly crashed and he had no clue what was the cause. He was frantic like a heroin addict. Though, usually, it would have been in good nature to let the man inside my home to use my internet, I, instead decided to lie and tell the man that I was naïve to the internet and the only mail I knew was delivered from the post office. I told him I was old school, which the man had trouble processing because he was nearly twenty years older than me in appearance. Either he was indeed older or life had not been good to him. He asked me how I could not possibly know what the internet was and I asked him why he could not possibly believe that there were other possible ways to receive “important” messages besides the internet. He became frustrated with me and told me that the internet was the quickest way to receive information and I was like “Really?” I told him pulling his e-mail up on his smartphone would be quicker then. He said he didn’t have a smartphone. I asked him, "Who’s smarter: the person without internet or the person without a smartphone?" Clearly, the answer to this question is the person without internet, but if you haven’t caught on yet, because of his short attention span I was able to distract this man from thinking the world was ending because he could not have immediate access to the internet. For a few minutes I ended his addiction. I doubt he will ever appreciate this, because, in the middle our conversation his wife yelled that the internet was back on and he ran off.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Louisiana Words Remembers Jorge Arturo

There’s nothing that hurts more than when we lose someone from our Louisiana Words family. But, the beauty of our writing movement is that the words of our loved ones live on with us.   On June 20th, 2023, Louisiana Words Allstar, Jorge Arturo, moved on from this world leaving our hearts broken. He was a charismatic and talented human being. Jorge resided in New Orleans, LA and had been active on Louisiana Words for over a year. To honor Jorge’s life and work, we will be sharing his writing and live performances all Summer 2023. Please help keep his spirit alive by sharing his work. We know that Jorge’s words will connect with our readers and we hope to keep his spirit alive.  Jorge’s first submission: “The Dog Show” debuted on February 6th, 2022 and is his most successful piece to date. In 2022, Jorge spent 10 weeks in the top with “The Dog Show,” “Weavers,”  “They Say Love Kills, This Time It Really Did,” and “If Hell is Real, It Looks Like an Airport.” His last piece was “Fairy Tale

The Man Under the Water (TK Craft - New Orleans, LA)

              Sitting at the edge of the small motorboat, Jordan willed himself to take deep slow breaths. Every time he opened his eyes and looked out at the endless water; panic began to overcome him.  Against the vastness of the ocean his small frame felt like almost nothing, this sense only made his fear grow worse. All he could do was stare out at the still surface for what felt like hours trying to gather the strength to jump into the depths.              When he was fifteen, Jordan almost drowned in the ocean. He hadn’t been particularly frightened of the water till that day. In fact, he had no real emotional connection to it at all. He’d taken swimming lessons every summer so when the riptide carried him further out to sea he didn’t panic. He just reoriented himself to the shore and dove down to begin a swim towards land. That’s when he saw him glistening in the depths.             Jordan was proud of himself for sitting on the edge of the boat as long as he did. He spent the

Ash Wednesday (Brian Falcon - New Orleans, LA)

  It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far more i