...When we invented fight club, Tyler and I, neither of us had ever been in a fight before. If you’ve never been in a fight, you wonder. About getting hurt, about what you’re capable of doing against another man. I was the first guy Tyler ever felt safe enough to ask, and we were both drunk in a bar where no one would care so Tyler said, “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to hit me as hard as you can.I didn’t want to, but Tyler explained it all, about not wanting to die without any scars, about being tired of watching only professionals fight, and wanting to know more about himself.About self-destruction.At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything down to make something better out of ourselves. I looked around and said, okay. Okay, I say, but outside in the parking lot. So we went outside, and I asked if Tyler wanted it in the face or in the stomach.Tyler said, “Surprise me.”I said I had never hit anybody.Tyler said, “So go crazy, man.”I said, close your eyes.Tyler said, “No.”Like every guy on his first night in fight club, I breathed in and swung my fist in a roundhouse at Tyler’s jaw like in every cowboy movie we’d ever seen, and me, my fist connected with the side of Tyler’s neck.Shit, I said, that didn’t count. I want to try again.Tyler said, “Yeah it counted,” and hit me, straight on, pow, just like a cartoon boxing glove on a spring on Saturday morning cartoons, right there in the middle of my chest and I fell back against a car. We both stood there, Tyler rubbing the side of his neck and me holding a hand on my chest, both of us knowing we’d gotten somewhere we’d never been and like the cat and mouse in cartoons, we were still alive and wanted to see how far we could take this thing and still be alive.Tyler said, “Cool.”I said, hit me again.Tyler said, “No, you hit me.”So I hit him, a girl’s wide roundhouse to right under his ear, and Tyler shoved me back and stomped the heel of his shoe in my stomach. What happened next and after that didn’t happen in words, but the bar closed and people came out and shouted around us in the parking lot.Instead of Tyler, I felt finally I could get my hands on everything in the world that didn’t work, my cleaning that came back with the collar buttons broken, the bank that says I’m hundred of dollars overdrawn. My job where my boss got on my computer and fiddled with my DOS execute commands. And Marla Singer, who stole the support groups from me.
Nothing was solved when the fight was over, but nothing mattered..."
Chuck Palahniuk's novel and David Fincher's movie presents an amazing "club" rejecting any from of social contract. In fact, acting against every artefacts decoy-ing humans from their ability to feel life and death, what Tyler Durden tends forward is a return to natural state for humanity. He imagine a city invaded by jungle and the way of life it implies. Far away from gently and politicaly correct sustainibility, he gives himself all means to succeed.
And to prove you, Durden is not just a novel/movie character, here is a video of a live hijacking of last week end's super bowl, by a 30 seconds porn video !
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