Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Tyler Durden



LOUD. An enormous CROWD of guys, including Jack and Bob,
stands around Tyler, who's in the center of the circle,
holding up his hands to quiet them...

I look around... I look around and
see a lot of new faces.

An enthusiastic RUMBLE from the crowd.

Shut up! Which means a lot of you
have been breaking the first two
rules of fight club.

A glum silence falls. Guys look at each other.

I see in fight club the strongest and
smartest men who have ever lived --
an entire generation pumping gas and
waiting tables; or they're slaves
with white collars.
Advertisements have them chasing cars
and clothes, working jobs they hate
so they can buy shit they don't need.
We are the middle children of
history, with no purpose or place.
We have no great war, or great
depression. The great war is a
spiritual war. The great depression
is our lives. We were raised by
television to believe that we'd be
millionaires and movie gods and rock
stars -- but we won't. And we're
learning that fact. And we're very,
very pissed-off.

The crowd erupts into a DEAFENING CHORUS of agreement. Jack
looks at the blazing excitement in the eyes of the crowd.

We are the quiet young men who listen
until it's time to decide.

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