2001-11-28


Alethea first told me about the mystical properties of 11:11 back in New York. I had never heard of such a thing and as a student of a rigidly empirical science, thought it to be a load of shit... but within a month my iron-clad skepticism had become soft. I started to notice that 11:11 was appearing more often than 1:55 or 2:12. In two months, I was seeing 11:11 everywhere; on clocks in automobiles... at Times Square... at the train station... on the Weather Channel... 11:11 had even surpassed 4:20 in terms of personal significance. So often would my head be turned (as if by an invisible hand) toward a quartet of ones, that I began to wonder like a child. What did it mean? Should I immediately be seeking the nearest slot machine? At 11:11 I'd perform rituals, make wishes, mix drinks, light fires and raise the windows - scanning the city as if a Thanksgiving Day float would soon round the corner festooned with the ANSWER.

The answer turned out to be quite simple and unromantically prosaic. Just like the believer in astrology who fails to take into account the many misreadings that occur for each single and vague success, I had been disregarding all the times I would look at a clock when it was not 11:11. The spell broken, gradually my sightings of the Ones began to dwindle...Carl Sagan would have been proud.

Full Circle. After many years, I notice an uncanny return of 11:11, and once again I entertain superstitious notions and gaze toward the horizon in blind hope of good things to come... sorry, Carl.

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