بخش 01

: باشگاه مشت زنی / فصل 1

باشگاه مشت زنی

10 فصل

بخش 01

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فایل ویدیویی

متن انگلیسی فصل

People always ask me if I know Tyler Durden. Three minutes. This is it. Ground zero. Do you have a speech for the occasion?

With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels. I can’t think of anything. For a second, I forget about Tyler’s controlled demolition thing and I wonder how clean that gun is. It’s getting exciting now.

That old thing, how you always hurt the one you love. Well, it works both ways. We have front-row seats for this theater of mass destruction.

The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundations of 12 buildings with explosives.

In two minutes, primary charges will blow base charges and a few blocks will be reduced to smouldering rubble.

I know this because Tyler knows this. Two and a half. Think of everything we’ve accomplished.

Suddenly I realize that all of this, the gun, the bombs, the revolution, has got something to do with a girl named Marla Singer.

Bob. Bob had bitch tits. This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie slobbering all over me, that was Bob. We’re still men. Yes, we’re men. Men is what we are. Bob had had his testicles removed. Then hormone therapy.

He developed bitch tits because his testosterone was too high and his body upped the oestrogen.

  • That was where I fit…
  • They’ll have to drain my pecs again.

..between those huge sweating tits

that hung enormous, the way you’d think of God’s as big. OK, you cry now. No, wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.

For six months, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep. With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everything’s far away.

Everything’s a copy of a copy of a copy. When deep space exploration ramps up, it’ll be the corporations that name everything.

The IBM Stellar Sphere. The Microsoft Galaxy. The Planet Starbucks. I need you out of town this week to cover some red flags.

It must have been Tuesday. He had on his cornflower blue tie. You want me to deprioritize my reports until you advise of a status upgrade?

Prioritize these. Here’s your flight coupons. Call me if there’s any snags. He was full of pep. Must have had his grande latte enema. Like so many others, I had become a slave to the Ikea nesting instinct. Yes. I’d like to order the Erika Pekkari dust ruffles.

  • Please hold.
  • Anything clever,

like a coffee table in the shape of a yin-yang, I had to have it.

The Klipsk personal office unit. The Hovetrekke home exerbike. Or the Ohamshab sofa with the Strinne green stripe pattern. Even the Ryslampa wire lamps of environmentally-friendly unbleached paper.

I’d flip through catalogues and wonder “What kind of dining set defines me as a person?”

I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof that they were crafted by the honest, hard-working, indigenous peoples of…

  • Please hold.
  • ..wherever.

We used to read pornography. Now it was the Horchow collection.

  • No. You can’t die of insomnia.
  • What about narcolepsy?

I nod off, I wake up in strange places. I have no idea how I got there.

  • You need to lighten up.
  • Can you please just give me something?

Red and blue Tuinals, lipstick-red Seconals… No. You need healthy, natural sleep.

Chew some valerian root and get more exercise. Hey, come on.

  • I’m in pain.
  • You wanna see pain?

Swing by First Methodist, Tuesday nights. See the guys with testicular cancer.

That’s pain. I always wanted three kids… two boys and a girl. Mindy wanted two girls and a boy.

We never could agree on anything. Well, I… She… She had her first child last week. A girl.

With… With her… With her new husband.

Fuck!

Thank God, you know… I’m glad for her. She deserves… Everyone, let’s thank Thomas for sharing himself with us. Thank you, Thomas.

I look around this room, and I see a lot of courage. And that gives me strength. We give each other strength.

It’s time for the one-on-ones.

So let’s all of us follow Thomas’s example and really open ourselves up.

Could you find a partner?

And this is how I met the big moosie. His eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears. Knees together. Those awkward little steps.

  • My name is Bob.
  • Bob?

Bob had been a champion bodybuilder.

You know that chest expansion programme on late-night TV?

That was his idea. I was a juicer. You know, using steroids? Diabonal and

Wisterol.

Oh, they use that on racehorses, for Christ sakes. And now I’m bankrupt.

I’m divorced.

My two grown kids won’t even return my phone calls. Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big, rubbery one.

Go ahead,… Cornelius. You can cry.

And then… something happened. I let go. That’s really good. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete.

I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. It’s OK. Babies don’t sleep this well. I became addicted.

If I didn’t say anything people always assumed the worst.

They cried harder… then I cried harder. Now we’re going to open the green door, the heart chakra…

I wasn’t really dying. I wasn’t host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around. Imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light. It moves over your body, healing you.

Now keep this going. Remember to breathe and step forward through the back door of the room. Where does it lead?

To your cave. Step forward into your cave. That’s right. You’re going deeper into your cave.

And you’re going to find your power animal.

Slide.

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