Do not write about Fight Club.

Do not scrapbook, journal, or vision board about your past favorite or future aspirational fights.

Do not doodle what you believe would be sick logos for Fight Club on your Trapper Keeper.

Do not circle days on your calendar containing only the exclamatory text “Fight Club! 10pm!” This is not only divulging, but disrespectful: the preliminaries begin at 8pm, and less-established fighters deserve our encouragement and support.

Do not distribute leaflets advertising Fight Club to pedestrians, nor affix said leaflets to lampposts, telephone poles, windows, bulletin boards—and, pardon our curiosity, but why include Greg’s phone number on tiny strips of paper at the bottom of the leaflets? If an interested party calls Greg, he is prohibited from talking to said party about Fight Club.

We called Greg about this matter, but it went to voicemail, and before you ask, yes, the outgoing message was a promotion for Fight Club.

Needless to say, this is prohibited.

Greg is on thin fucking ice, and he knows it.

Which reminds me.

Do not fax, text or email about Fight Club. To be clear, we believe these are prohibited under the “write” clause, but we are covering our bases for the pedants.

On the subject of bases:

Do not pay to have advertisements for Fight Club displayed on the stadium Jumbotron.

Do not hire biplanes to trail banners asking whether Fight Club will marry you (what does that even mean?!).

Do not signal about Fight Club to the pitcher by pointing one to four fingers in a previously-agreed-upon direction.

Do not signal about Fight Club to the baserunners by means including but not limited to tipping your cap, pulling your earlobes, or rubbing your arms and belly. You look ridiculous, and by extension are sullying what would be the good and well-respected name of Fight Club.

If you are a baserunner, do not steal and relay the opposing team’s signals despite the competitive advantage this may provide—this is in poor taste, or is possibly illegal. Though foundational and hallowed, the rules of baseball are somehow less clear than the rules of Fight Club.

Do not distribute messages about Fight Club via smoke signal or Morse code except in cases of emergency outlined in statute 5.4.1, subsection B.

Do not attempt to circumvent rules pertaining to leaflets and flyers by promoting a show for your band and at that show singing about Fight Club—does Greg really intend to argue that singing is not a subcategory of talking? We saw his band’s show, and in addition to many barely veiled allusions, it did not escape our attention that the set list was an acrostic poem whose key letters spelled “Fight Club.”

We have left Greg a voicemail regarding these many, blatant infractions, and if he weren’t the president’s nephew, he’d already be relegated to a bare knuckle boxing league fighting D-list celebrities for a pittance. And before you contend that a pittance is more than we make fighting in Fight Club, technically, yes, but while “getting that bag” via increasingly outlandish means may highlight the absurdities of capitalism, the bag-getter is still operating within the bounds of a corrupt and amoral system.

Do not search for Fight Club in a web browser except from an incognito window from a device with an active VPN connection.

Do not enter Fight Club into online translation tools.

Do not use Fight Club as an AI prompt, even if the image results are dope as hell. It is the stance of Fight Club that the output of large language models is a hollow facsimile of true human creativity and endeavor.

Do not smile and sigh wistfully about Fight Club in the presence of others—scan the room thoroughly before each wistful sigh; look over both shoulders. Ignorance is no excuse for noncompliance.

Do not think loudly about Fight Club in the presence of a telepath. Imagine the telepath naked; if they blush, you may think about Fight Club only less than this loud.

Keep imagining the telepath naked, quieter and quieter, until they stop blushing.

Possibly, this volume is safe, or they have grown inured to your perversion.

Think something worse—not illegal or immoral—it is the belief of Fight Club that the precogs have been introduced to their nutrient baths and are in the process of calibration, and we aren’t keen to be implicated in your future crimes, so rather than “worse,” we should clarify to think sillier and more outlandish perverse thoughts—

Sorry, we’re getting wrapped around the axle on this statute. I’m not sure why we decided to publish this memorandum stream of consciousness in real time.

Not to belabor the point, but for the safety and secrecy of Fight Club, you must presume every person is a telepath until proven otherwise. We recommend to practice thinking even mundane desires towards your partners and spouses before vocalizing anything aloud. We have uncovered on good authority that your closest confidants are telepaths and potential enemies of Fight Club, thus, it is best to never outwardly express your needs, simply think (and scan for blushes), first quiet, then louder, then louder, then louder (are they blushing?—no? strange…perhaps you are not thinking loud as you imagine…).

As a member in good standing of Fight Club, you should be familiar with acts of sabotage, so really lean-fucking-in to silence as a remedy to any and all problems.

Mentally compile your regrets and grievances. Enumerate reasons despite continuous idyllic surroundings why you shouldn’t be happy, and think them so fucking loud at the walls of your beautiful bedroom that even your pets are put off by your weird energy.

We assure you, eventually, your partner or spouse will notice.

We only hope by then it’s not too late.

To save Fight Club.