My Shriekin’ Rican, Willy, has been very excited about today for a couple of weeks now. “Ju know,” he said the other day in the kitchen. “It’s berry good to start anything on this day. It’s once, once, once—eleben, eleben, eleben—which in numerology means…”
“Stop,” I interjected. “That’s too much bullshit for my first cup of coffee.”
“Okay. Anyway, we gonna have a pahty.”
Poutrel was in “Sarah’s Key,” which I panned earlier in the week. She does stand out despite the fact she has no lines and literally wades through the film. I found her mesmerizing.
I’m still trying to figure out if there’s some poetic meaning behind the Spanish spelling of eleven being ‘once’ and it being repeated three times today, but it just reads like a repetitious excerpt from a sentence in an early Hemingway novel. It has no meaning symbolically any more than it does numerologically. Still, we are launching this new segment of the blog on this auspicious day, 11.11.11, which is a sort of Week in Review the New York Times would never run, but which hopefully will be entirely inappropriate in an apropos PFC kinda way.