Deepak Chopra's Deep Thoughts on Lady Gaga
MTV caught up with spiritual leader Deepak Chopra to record his thoughts on Lady Gaga. In the clip, Chopra’s minute-long monologue attempts to portray Gaga as a complex and tortured artist, but his verbal diarrhea of blanket statements really only captures Chopra lacking the backbone to make a single substantive comment in an entire minute of airtime.
What's funnier, Deepak Chopra feels the need to endorse his proximity to the celebrity realm by saying “. . . and I've met all of them [celebrities].”
To recap, here's Chopra on Gaga:
- She has exquisite talent
- an extraordinarily mature mind
- existential angst
- is troubled by her own questions of existence (is this different from...
Fidelity of Trees: Part 2
Today, a promise between Phoebe and me: no subletting our space unless both of us stay in the same place.
I promised Phoebe I’d forget that damn straw devil and its infernal maker. She says I have too much time on my hands, “Idle—the devil,” and such superstitious nonsense. I caught someone filming me while I was staking out our building. I felt my privacy evaporate, and that my behaviour was open to enormous amounts of misinterpretation (some can’t see the truth through the mediums). I have begun to seek out the trees, instead of demons and devils, like the mighty tiger and my cousin Dean.
“Keep your head down, and stay out of the trees,” my grandfather told Dean the year he got his first set of golf clubs and my sister bought a print of a snow tiger in a tree. That same year I was uprooted by my first girlfriend and began to nurture my strong dislike for patchouli,...
Taking the “Me” out of Women Doesn’t Mean You’ve Won!
My good friend caught me searching her computer for something to post. I know, terrible. I should have waited until she left me alone. So I had to make her a deal: she won’t throw me out of her apartment until after Phoebe’s temporary residents leave on Saturday if I let her write something and I guarantee to post it. Also, she doesn’t want me to edit it. So it’s all her.
First, some facts that we women have to overcome every day: we menstruate because we ate an apple, it is our fault that men force themselves on us, and our work is less valuable than men’s work.
I was in the car with my mom years ago when this other car with three guys in it pulled up next to us and asked her to pull over and made jokes about her and me. Now that I’m older I see the ridiculousness in her showing her wedding ring and screaming, “I’m married!” and I understand the patheticness of those guys. They eventually sped off. My mom was shaking. I asked her what they wanted and she...
Stephen J. Harper
Continuing with the couch surfing, I stayed with this poor bastard. He actually sent this off!
To the other Stephen J. Harper,
You are making my life hell! Yes, my name is Stephen J. Harper too. My middle name is Jason, not Joseph, but it might as well be, the way I’m being treated, and there seems to be no end in sight. You’re probably kicking back, thinking how lucky you are to be Stephen Harper, but I’m not. It’s no fun anymore. Everyone has some problem with me and it has nothing to do with me! I went for an interview a few years ago and one of the interviewers joked, “I wouldn’t vote for you again.” It’s been downhill ever since.
In my line of work I have to travel a fair amount, but lately, since the world woke up and saw Canada win all that damn gold, I’ve become fearful of travelling because the world now knows a new Canadian name. That’s right, Stephen Harper, and don’t let me stop you from imagining the trouble it is to get on a plane when...
I'm Free!
I’m free! But I’m hungry again, and I smell.
Breakfast was scrambled eggs and sliced sausages served with Raychel’s homemade blood pudding and a bowl of fruit on the side. I ate and didn’t stick around.
I’m going to see Phoebe.
Maybe we can sneak into our place again, or into where she’s staying, like we used to do when she lived with her parents. Last evening’s buzz will soon wear off and my head is going to throb, and there are so many people around that I can’t find a quiet place to eat my newly purchased shrimp and walnuts.
~JB
Narwhal is an arts magazine from Vancouver, BC, that publishes well-told and often funny stories.