Do you remember the first rule of Fight Club? What about the second rule? Read on to refresh
your memory! Jack, a burnt out
white collared worker, is fed up with the routine of life. Watch as he transforms into something
that, maybe, he really didn't want to be.
: For six months, I couldn't sleep. [Echo] I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy, of a copy, of a copy.
: I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host ot cancer or parasites; I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around.
: Every evening I died, and every morning I was born again. Resurrected.
: ... instead of just waiting for their turn to speak.
: I don't know. When people think you are dying, they really listen, instead ...
: You wake up at SeaTac. S.F.O. You wake up at Loga, L.A.X., B.W.I. Pacific, Mountain, Central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.
: Right. We're consumers. We're by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty -- these things don't concern me. What concerns me is celebrity magazines, televeision with five hundred channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.
: The things you won, end up owning you. But do what you like, man.
: Most of the week, we were Ozzie and Harriet. But every Saturday night, we were finding something out ... we were finding out, more and more, that we were not alone.
: Gentlemen! Welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of fight club is -- you don't talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is -- you DO NOT talk about Fight Club. The thrid rule fo Fight Club -- someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Forth rule -- only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule - one fight at a time fellows. Sixth rule -- no shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule -- fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule -- if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.
: Who you were in Fight Club is not who you were in the rest of the world. A guy came to Fight Club for the first time, his ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood.
: Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.
: Congratulations, you are one step closer to hitting bottom.
: Look around, look around and I see a lot of new faces. [Rumble from the crowd] Shut up! Which means a lot of you have been breaking the first two rules of fight club. Man, I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who have ever lived. I see all this potential -- damn it, an entire generation pumping gas and waiting tables; they're slaves with white collars. Advertisements have them chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We are the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no great war, or great depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised by television to believe that one day we'll all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars -- but we won't. And we're learning slowly that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
: You are not your job, you are not how much money you have in the bank, not the car you drive, not the contents of your wallet. You are not your kahkis. We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
: [Voice Over] Tyler built himself an army.
: We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. We are all part from the same compost heap.
: Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not beautiful or unique snowflakes. We are the same decaying orgainc matter as everone else.
: In Tyler we trusted.
: Hitting bottom is not a weekend retreat, it's not a damn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go!
: Please return your seatbacks to their full and upright and locked position.