As I noted on Twitter, it seems that Jonah Goldberg stopped publicly archiving his weekly “Goldberg File” at about the same time he quit letting pictures of himself be taken. That being so, if you want to read this (mostly) weekly , hilarious commentary on… well who can really say, you have to subscribe. However, this description of his most recent trip to the theater (the pedestrian Main Street kind, not the swanky/snobby uptown kind. Not that that there’s anything wrong with that) is a great example of what to expect from it, and is too funny not to share. Without giving away the punchline, having been burned before, I understand his trepidation:

Dear Reader (and those readers who are not dear and those who are dear but who do not read),

The last time I went to the movies to see an adult film . . . er, I should say the last time I was in the theater to see a film for adults. As far as I can tell, they haven’t had adult theaters since On Golden Blonde was on the big screen.

Anyway, the last time I saw a non-animated movie in the theater, I saw True Grit. The Fair Jessica and I had a matinee movie date.

Before the movie started, there was a preview for a movie coming out later this year. At first it seemed to be like a big-budget film on the Moon Landing (I am choosing to capitalize that, like it or not), mixing archival footage with new stuff. The words “Our Nation’s Proudest Moment” flash on the screen. So far so good. Then, when Neil Armstrong lands on the moon, a new phrase appears: “A Secret Hidden for Forty Years.”

Uh-oh. What’s this? I thought. Intriguing. Exciting. Maybe someone in Hollywood has read one of my weekly letters and is finally making the movie “The Trial of Capricorn One,” an awesome sequel to the forgotten O. J. Simpson classic.

Then, we see real footage of Walter Cronkite telling viewers that the crew is on the “far side of the moon” and thus out of radio contact. Then the boss at Mission Control (more questionable capitalization!) tells Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin that “the mission is a go.” They have 21 minutes to check out something cool.

Oh, man, this looks great.

Suspense builds like a Sim City metropolis called “Suspense” created by an introverted South Korean kid with asthma, a broken leg, and rich parents. The astronauts moon-trot over a lunar ridge to find the massive wreck of a spaceship. Coolness! They start exploring it. More drama! Excitement!

Self, this is a movie I’m going to see, I said to myself.

My wife looks over to see me nodding as if a waiter just asked me if I like cold beer and ribs.

Then: Four of the most disheartening words in all of cinema appeared on the screen. You know of what I speak.

“From Director Michael Bay.”

Suddenly, the bowels stew like a forgotten fondue pot left too long over a lit can of Sterno.

Oh dear Lord, I know where this is going, I say as I look for the eject button on the arm rest.

Too late.

It’s a preview for Transformers III.