I watched "Fight Club" last night. The narrator says "I began to wonder, ‘which dining set defined me as a person,’" . One of the great cinematic lines ever. This movie grabs me, leads me. I begin to think of how consumerism rules the world. How it takes the souls of men, and women. How it drowns our minds, clouds our hearts. The almighty buck, or pound or yen. I get angry. I want to embrace anarchy. I want to be Tyler Derdan. Grown men with careers and families, becoming mercenaries in the war against capitalism. Not really capitalism, but what it has become. You are not your mind or your soul, you are the sum of your possessions. Your net worth becomes your self worth. You are a success or a failure based on weather or not you have kept up with the Joneses. Let’s tear it down. Let’s destroy the system that creates this vacuum in human hearts.

I think of how many kids grow up fatherless, because dad is out chasing the American dream. I just didn’t want the kids to grow up driving in second or third hand cars, or fords and chevys. Or grow up in an apartment or a track home, or public school. I wanted them to have something better than what I had. I show them I love them by how much I buy them. So love is now a commodity also. It is all shit.

I watch this movie on Dec. 27th. Two days after the glorious crowning achievement of marketing. I have just spent days getting trampled by 120 pound mothers, rushing to buy buy buy. Hundreds of thousands of hot, sweaty, desperate shoppers greedily hogging the precious air. Mall rent a cops running to chase down suspected shoplifters. Wishing to God I had done all of my sacrificial giving from convenient on-line distributors of Christmas cheer. Getting sprayed by the latest vile cologne by some half asleep teenager in a fake Armani suit. Getting harassed by credit card salesman. Getting my precious television taken over by ad after ad. I deserve a break today.

I feel guilt for not being able to buy my wife what I really think would show the appropriate love for her. I remember the leaner Christmas when my wife cried because it looked like we couldn’t afford a very generous Christmas for our two little girls. What a horrible father I felt like. What anger I had. Anger at Santa, and myself, and the world. Buy Buy Buy. The Christmas spirit. Show Jesus how much you appreciate his humble birth by putting yourself in impossible dept. What have we become?

Into this particular context of anger, and guilt, and greed pops this little movie "fight club".

Oh how I am moved. Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Meatloaf play my anger like a beautiful instrument. The pressure of all of this consumerism, cracking a man in half. What could be more appropriate. And the question of course that I ask is "how then shall I live". I cannot experience this magnitude of emotion and conviction and not respond. What shall I do?

I have never bowed to this god of wealth and purchase. My family lived a simple life. I haven’t had a new car in fourteen years, but that wasn’t enough. We lived cheaply inexpensively to allow us time for the important things. But that wasn’t enough. I taught others to follow their hearts and not their wallets, not enough. What am I going to do, in response to this evil world of merchandise, in response to the message of fight club. Of course anything less than blowing shit up would not be enough. I must destroy the enemy. It must be an all or nothing proposition. So I asked myself "what is the target? what is the epitome of American greed, consumerism, and culture of want?" And at that moment I knew. The mall!

Of course there are malls everywhere, but this mall was the worst. It was in the middle of spend county, behind the orange curtain. It had them all Sax, Nordstrom's, Robinson's and a jewelry store on every corner. Rodeo drive indoors. And I would bring it down, all of it. I had no choice, have no choice. It’s gonna burn. I would consult the anarchist cookbook, make my own bombs, write letters to the press, maybe some napalm. I would infiltrate the sound system playing a track from the fight club. I would wear a Brad Pitt as Tyler Derdan T-shirt. OC’s finest was gonna blow.

So I wrote a plan, research six months. Accumulation of explosives three months. Preparation for media blitz, I can do it all in less than a year, in time for next Christmas.

Now pull out my day timer. Problems.

I need to find my three people to do really big, good deeds to and instruct them to pay it forward.

I need to become the greatest cage fighter in the world so I can upend the evil Mr. Bush and allow Ralph Nader to take his rightful place leading our nation.

I need to find seven powerful illustrations that will wake the sleepers at my church while teaching on the deadly sins.

I need to invite conservatives over to my house for dinner, conversation and murder.

I need to become a drunken brawler poet.

I need to make the Notre Dame football team.

I need to save princess Buttercup.

And become Spinal Taps new drummer.

This year will be very tight time wise. Maybe I should just go get a caramel frappaccino, an expensive cigar and "the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" and figure this whole mess out.