It is a recurring, nagging feeling of mine that the reality we're all trappd in is,in actual fact, if you dissect it, like a nightmare. I'm always looking for ways to escape that reality. One escapes it by going to the movies. One escapes it by becoming involved in the trivial nonsense of “Are the Yankees going to win?” or “Are the Mets going to win?” When in fact it means nothing. But life means nothing either. It means as much as the ballgame. So you're constantly looking for ways to escape from reality. And one of the fallacies that comes up all the time is the Golden Age fallacy, that you'd have been happier at a different time. Just as people think, “If I moved to Paris I'd be happier” or “If I moved to London…” Then they do, and they're not. Even though these places are great, they're not happier,because it isn't the geography that's eating them up, it's the existential reality of how grim a predicament we're in. So, I've played around with that before, the notion of wanting to get out of the real world, get out of time. Here, Owen does get a chance to go back, and it's fine. But he realizes as he looks around that those people want to go back too, and that it doesn't matter where you go, that life is unsatisfying whether you lived in the renaissance orla belle époqueor now or 100 years from now. It's an unsatisfying situation.But he realizes as he looks around that those people want to go back too, and that it doesn't matter where you go, that life is unsatisfying whether you lived in the renaissance orla belle époqueor now or 100 years from now. It's an unsatisfying situation.But he realizes as he looks around that those people want to go back too, and that it doesn't matter where you go, that life is unsatisfying whether you lived in the renaissance orla belle époqueor now or 100 years from now. It's an unsatisfying situation.
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