It was 20 degrees and I rode my bike to work. Shady spots of road had still had ice and snow on them. Once, stopping at a stop sign, I fell, and my bike skittered over the ice away from me and would likely have been hit if a car had been on the perpendicular street. I'm here to tell you that I love my bike helmet, and without my helmet I might have a nasty goose egg, or even a cracked egg, on my head. Then, as I biked one way and a 11-year-oldish boy walked the other and I passed him, he yelled at my back (I'm pretty sure at me, since there was no one else on the street), "Bitch!" I was wearing a helmet and sunglasses and a face mask, so even if I had a mean expression, he couldn't've seen it. I know I've seen him before, walking probably to school, but I'm certain I've never been unkind to him. I know I ought to conclude that he is just a pubescent boy experimenting with malice and power plays, but I can't quite whole-heartedly do that because part of me is still 11 myself.
I liked it. RDC asked if it was as good a novel as a movie, and it's hard to tell. I liked them both. How the two met is different in the movie, because the book's scene would have been so expensive to film, I suppose. And Brad Pitt's line, "How's that working out for you, being clever?" is not in the book. I thought it was great, but I have heard such varying things about the rest of Chuck Palahniuk's stuff that I wonder if I will continue with him.
"Fight Club" is to "Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension" as Angel Face is to Perfect Tommy. Also, all the goings after balls reminds of "Stand by Me": "Chopper, sic balls!"