Wallace explains that what makes a work "Lynchian" is the constant presence of the macabre in the mundane.
Wallace argues that Lynch's films are so emotionally effective because they implicate the audience in the evil that they witness on screen.
Wallace analogizes the pampering given to cruise passengers to the care given by a mother to her infant, so in many ways a cruise is a way for adults to revert to the status of children.
Wallace also quickly grows accustomed to the level of luxury of the ship and finds that he only desires more because there is no way to satisfy the childish impulse to want everything.
Wallace concludes that people go on cruises but do not feel that they deserve such treatment and so in some way resent the people who give it to them.
The word’s overused and banalified now, despair, but it’s a serious word, and I’m using it seriously.
And I'm starting to see how as time gains momentum my choices will narrow and their foreclosures multiply exponentially until I arrive at some point on some branch of all life's sumptuous branching complexity at which I am finally locked in and stuck on one path and time speeds me through stages of stasis and atrophy and decay until I go down for the third time, all struggle for naught, drowned by time. But since it's my own choices that'll lock me in, it seems unavoidable--if I want to be any kind of grownup, I have to make choices and regret foreclosures and try to live with them.” ― “How can even the idea of rebellion against corporate culture stay meaningful when Chrysler Inc.
advertises trucks by invoking “The Dodge Rebellion”?
It’s wanting to jump overboard.” ― “I am now 33 years old, and it feels like much time has passed and is passing faster and faster every day.
Day to day I have to make all sorts of choices about what is good and important and fun, and then I have to live with the forfeiture of all the other options those choices foreclose.