I recently read that there is an irresistible urge for bloggers and diarists to write about the movies they just viewed. I admit that is true. I’m about to succumb to that very phenomenon.

I don’t rent movies that often. Hollywood doesn’t generally make a lot of things that interest me, and TV is showing a hundred channels of free stuff, 24-7. So why go out of your way, ya know?

I rented and watched Lost in Translation yesterday. I loved it. I especially liked the pacing of it, and the fact that not much happened. Which, all in all, should make for a boring movie, but that wasn’t the case. I don’t want to talk too much about it, because I’m sure you all have already seen it, you being much cooler than I. But I really liked it. I like Bill Murray, and the movie made me fall in love with Scarlet Johanson, which I suspect was one of the goals of the film all along.

I also fell victim to another one of those cheesy movies on TV that sucks you in: Real Genius. When it comes on, I have to watch it. It’s a moral imperative.

I have a strong memory associated with that movie. I first saw Real Genius when I was in college, when it was fairly new. They played it on campus, and my first roommate Jeff and I went to see it. This was probably in the spring of ’86. We were just finishing our first year of college, like the young kid in the movie. We were idealist, nerdy outsiders. We thought of ourselves as smart and misunderstood. Naturally, we identified heavily with the movie. I remember that afterwards we climbed to the top of a concrete hand-ball wall and just hung out for a while, perched 15-20 feet in the air on an 8-inch wide wall. I don’t remember what we were talking about, just that the semester was almost over, and I was moving off campus the next year, and it was the end of a (very short) era. Maybe we were just pumped up by the theme of the movie, which seemed much less cheesy back then. Everybody wants to rule the world, indeed.

Tomorrow is Fat Tuesday. Or, as it is known here in Lancaster, PA: Fasnacht Day. Fasnachts are a special kind of fried donut, made of potato dough I believe, usually covered with powdered sugar. The purpose of Fasnacht Day is to use up all of the fat, or lard, or whatever they are fried in, before Lent. It is a huge tradition in this County and every church is probably churning out dozens and dozens of these stomach bombs tonight. Seriously, these things hit your gut like a ton of bricks. They almost aren’t even tasty. I say “almost” because, well, come on! They’re fried and covered in sugar! That alone is enough to make you have one or two each year. It’s tradition! It’s religious… God wants you to eat one. You regret it almost immediately, because it feels like a ball of dough sitting in your stomach. Which, of course, is exactly what it is.

I wonder if they’re making any Atkins-friendly ones this year… fried sugar on a bed of shredded lettuce?

There are signs on every block around here, directing you to the nearest church where you can buy them by the greasy bag. Somebody will surely bring in boxes and bags of them in to work tomorrow. And I’ll eat them. I won’t be able to resist their siren song. “We’re fried… we’re sugary… we’re righteous… we’re… uh… we said fried, right?”

Maybe I should wear sweat pants.

For more information about Fasnachts and Lent, consult your local library.