بخش 05

: باشگاه مشت زنی / فصل 5

باشگاه مشت زنی

10 فصل

بخش 05

توضیح مختصر

  • زمان مطالعه 7 دقیقه
  • سطح خیلی سخت

دانلود اپلیکیشن «زوم»

این فصل را می‌توانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زوم» بخوانید

دانلود اپلیکیشن «زوم»

فایل ویدیویی

متن انگلیسی فصل

I wrote little haiku poems. I e-mailed them to everyone. Is that your blood? Some of it, yeah.

You can’t smoke in here. Take the rest of the day off. Come back Monday with some clean clothes.

Get yourself together. I got right in everyone’s hostile face. “Yes, these are bruises from fighting.”

“Yes, I’m comfortable with that.” “I am enlightened.”

You give up the condo life, give up all your flaming worldly possessions, move to a dilapidated house in a toxic waste area, and you have to come home to this.

  • Hello.
  • This is Detective Stern with the Arson Unit.

We have some new information about the incident at your former condo.

Yes.

I don’t know if you’re aware, but someone sprayed Freon into your front-door lock.

They used a chisel to shatter the cylinder. No, I wasn’t aware of that. I am Jack’s cold sweat. Does this sound strange to you? Yes, sir, strange. Very strange.

  • The dynamite
  • Dynamite?

left a residue of ammonium oxalate potassium perchloride.

  • Do you know what this means?
  • No, what does it mean?

It means it was home-made. I’m sorry. This is just coming as quite a shock to me, sir. Whoever set this dynamite could have blown out your pilot light days before the explosion.

  • The gas was just a detonator.
  • Who would go and do that?

  • I’ll ask the questions.
  • Tell him.

Tell him the liberator who destroyed my property realigned my perceptions. Excuse me. Are you there?

I am listening. It’s hard to know what to make of this. Have you recently made enemies who might have access to home-made dynamite?

  • Enemies?
  • Reject civilization,

especially material possessions.

  • Son, this is serious.
  • Yes, I know it’s serious.

  • I mean that.
  • Yes, it’s very serious.

Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me. That condo was my life. OK? I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that got destroyed.

  • It was me!
  • I’d like to thank the Academy.

  • Is this not a good time for you?
  • Just tell him you fucking did it!

Tell him you blew it all up! That’s what he wants to hear.

  • Are you still there?
  • Wait. Are you saying that I’m a suspect?

No. I may need to talk to you, so you let me know if you’re gonna leave town.

  • OK?
  • OK.

so the best fat for soap comes from humans.

  • Wait, what is this place?
  • A liposuction clinic.

Pay dirt!

Richest, creamiest fat in the world. Fat of the land! No! Don’t pull it, don’t pull it!

  • Oh, God!
  • Give me another one.

As the fat renders, the tallows float to the surface. Like in Boy Scouts.

  • It’s hard to imagine you as a Boy Scout.
  • Keep stirring.

Once the tallow hardens, you skim off a layer of glycerin. Add nitric acid, you’ve got nitroglycerin.

Then add sodium nitrate and sawdust, you’ve got dynamite. Yeah, with enough soap, one could blow up just about anything. Tyler was full of useful information.

People found clothes got cleaner when washed at a certain point in the river.

  • You know why?
  • No.

Human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burnt. Water permeated the ashes to create lye. This is lye. The crucial ingredient. Once it mixed with the melted body fat, a white soapy discharge crept into the river. May I see your hand, please?

What is this?

This is a chemical burn. It will hurt more than any burn and it will leave a scar. Meditation worked for cancer, it could work now.

  • Don’t shut the pain out.
  • Oh, God!

The first soap was made from heroes’ ashes, like the first monkey shot into space. Without pain or sacrifice, we would have nothing. I tried not to think of the word searing of flesh.

Stop it! This is your pain, this is your burning hand.

I’m going to my cave to find my power animal. No! Don’t deal with this the way those dead people do! Come on!

  • I get the point!
  • No! You’re feeling premature enlightenment.

It’s the greatest moment of your life, and you’re off somewhere else! I am not!

Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God.

If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God? Listen to me. You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, He hates you.

This is not the worst thing that can happen. We don’t need Him!

  • I agree!
  • Fuck damnation, fuck redemption.

We are God’s unwanted children? So be it!

  • I’m getting water!
  • You can use water and make it worse or…

  • Or use vinegar to neutralize the burn.
  • Please let me up!

First, you have to give up. First, you have to know, not fear, know that some day, you’re gonna die.

You don’t know how this feels! It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.

OK. Congratulations.

You’re one step closer to hitting the bottom. Tyler sold his soap to department stores at $20 a bar.

God knows what they charged.

  • This is the best soap.
  • Why, thank you, Susan.
  • It was beautiful.

We were selling rich women their own fat asses back to them. He was wearing his yellow tie. I didn’t wear a tie to work any more. “The first rule of Fight Club is don’t talk about Fight Club.” I’m half-asleep again. I must have left it in the copy machine. “The second rule…” Is this yours? Pretend you’re me. Make a managerial decision.

You find this. What would you do? Well, I gotta tell you, I’d be very, very careful who you talk to about that. Because the person who wrote that is dangerous. And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR10 carbine gas-powered semiautomatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you’ve known for years. Someone very, very close to you. Tyler’s words coming out of my mouth. And I used to be such a nice guy. Or maybe you shouldn’t bring me every piece of trash you pick up.

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