| I just watched the DVD to Fight Club for maybe the sixth time last night and I got to thinking some about it. Yes, I own the book. Yes, I own the Dust Brothers soundtrack. No, I don't have a problem with that.
I'm one of those people that just about anyone will tell their most shameful secret to. I'm not surprised at all when a guy I barely know coughs up the information that he and some of his friends have started their own Fight Club, imitation being the sincerest form of flattery. Makes me wonder what the fans of 8mm are doing right now.
I had actually wondered, seeing him bruised and bandaged a few times, what was going on. He's scrawny ("skinny guys fight til they're burger") and just not that much of a hard customer. He tells me how he and his friends were bouncing each other off of cars.
I just smile in a non-commital manner and wonder about the homoerotic overtones. He's not a "good guy" or a "straight edge shiny Christian," he's a hardcore punk who has scarfed loads of drugs, and yet won't sleep with his wonderful, beautiful girlfriend, who practically begs for it. He's way too talented to get all of that repressed rage bottled up, so I have to wonder why he's doing all of this.
My conclusion is that people are not very original and that he missed the point of the whole film.
Don't get me wrong, I was interested, but I also took Kenpo/Kempo (depends on how you like to spell it!) for a few years and I'm not anxious to lose any more brain cells by slamming my gray matter against the inside of my skull. For that matter, I really like my teeth where they are. Project Mayhem, on the other hand ... | 
