Translate iPigeon.institute in to your native language 💱

Thursday, October 21

Product Review: Alpha Ionone (Natural), from Perfumer’s Apprentice.

 Dedicated botanists, as for backdrop to a fragrance-making and mixing enthusiast “hobbyist” sort of pseudo-professional profile of perfume-maker - not quite a lab chemist, ever, foreseeably, yet not quite an elementary-level “essential oils only” type of fragrance mixer, by moonlight, as it were… would not quite classify the Iris as a notably fragrant flower. No, by it’s formative traits, it is a perennial tuberous root-replicating crop; a rhizome, that is. The flowers? Classic, via our Art History lessons, as Jean Claude Van Damme, though… man, he could kick some ass. 

I’m still on, like, my last blog post’s lingering persona and effects, and attitude. 


Sorry about that. It’s Claude Monet, who did the famous landscapes of the folk-ish peasant pastorale, he, himself, a master of observation, and an indulgent one, when it came to large strokes, and goop, with his impasto technique, with the tube of acrylic, forming some of the characteristic primary favorites of art lovers, of the Early Modern Period; here, Impressionism, as it’s known, along with Van Gogh, who did similar work, stylistically.

Botany enthusiasts ex art lovers-slash-historians would instantly draw a connection, between Claude Monet and his Irises. 

Lately, my Facebook News Feed is a Glorious Cash Cow, of Menial Effort Required.

 The thought of it is obviously compelling - easy cash, for doing “most-simplistic” sorts of tasks, completing surveys, questionnaires, mystery shopping, etc. 

But how does one discover, or happen upon, this sort of chance deal and offer, in one’s own news feed, etc.? 

As I’d noted, in prior blogs, or on my social media newsfeed outputs, themselves, (for me, that would be mostly on my Facebook or one of my various Twitter (okay, mostly - I have 2 Twitter accounts): the point is, is that sometimes, I try to list out, and reiterate - some sort of moralistic aptitude, of life’s fated time-in-passing’s “lore,” as it were, …

Actually, as I hear people whackin’ and smackin’ shit, out over in the background. 

Brian Laundrie just got fwopped bwopp out somewhere, over on the news… “Hey? Huh…?” 

Then, there’s the “try: to remember;” thing - what was it. What is it? The response? 

For how do-doo I did people, out here, out in this implode-cell of lavish indulgence and ego? I did people do-doo. 

Frangipani Absolute - Pure Aroma Ingredients from iPigeon Aroma Ingredients

 A richly fragrant deep, indole | narcotic floral aroma absolute; this product is 100% undiluted extract from freshly-picked plumeria blossoms, otherwise known as Frangipani. The fragrance is loved all the world around, for its powerful and diffuse fragrance.



Tuesday, October 19

An [imaginary] day of recognition for iPigeon.institute and for me, Jay Ammon.

 I stayed out for the weekend. It was exhausting, but I got the birds fed, most definitely. 

A couple of notable things happened, both of them in succession to one another. As I was hanging out in Grand Park, taking inventory of my day, and catching up on internet aspirations, and such, a lady came up to me. She somehow intuited that I was the perfumer of the area. I had been cleaning out the spray mechanism of my new tropical perfume spray, Southern Critters Skeet Skeet, and I let out a few spritzes of it. It’s an unexpectedly vastly diffuse spray, and, as such,  it’s suitable for environmental, rather than personal fragrancing. I was sitting by the top of the water fountain when she came up to me, and she kindly commented on the beauty of the perfume that had enveloped the area, and she asked for a sample. I gave her several milliliters in a sample spritzer, and I applied a label on to the spritzer, with my information, so she could follow me, and contact me, in the future, if she was interested in my developments in perfumery, etc.

That was the first thing that happened. After that, I heard a richly-developed remote-sensing episode play out;  both somewhat a social work awards and recognition showcase and a 12-step self-help meeting, all in one. They had gathered to recognize the work I had been involved in doing, as far as keeping the birds fed, around town. It was a dearly heartfelt outpouring of support for me, and while they were at it, they had also reprimanded, publicly, the ones who had been persecuting me, as part and facet of the 12 steps nature of the program, as it were. 
I came home and rested for a few days, and now, my time is up, here. I’ve got to go back out and feed the birds, but the recognition I had received, through this “imaginary” program which had played out, turned out to be very therapeutic, and I feel as though perhaps I can be healed of my drug addiction, at least, for now. Thank you so much, people of social work, in the downtown Los Angeles area, for putting this together for me. It really helps out. 

Sunday, October 17

It’s slim pickings, at the end of my food supply, for the Figueroa at 4th underpass pigeons, today.

I'm at the end of my food supply for the birds, out here, in Downtown Los Angeles, and it's been a rough patch for this flock,over the past week, in my care and watch over them, which I'd been making sure to get to. I do 4 flock areas, in Downtown Los Angeles, when I come out here.

(Update): I had recalled that I found a container of some sort of rich beef soup, and I gave it to them. This past week, it seemed as that there might have been some people present, in the nearby vicinity, and the birds weren't perching at their regular location, in a notch, under the underpass bridge. The birds were super excited to get some food in them, as this spot is most typically my last stop, in visiting the birds of DTLA.



Another Downtown LA (Though Slight) Occupation and Riot - October 2021 DTLA Folklore.

 Who could deny it, for either living here or ending up here, any time over the past several weeks or so?

The evidence is present for the daytime locals and locality regulars, (such as myself) to come to understand. As pictured here, at the [… insert apartment complex name], property damage is being threatened and waged, lately, by roving waves of seemingly random, yet quite common casually psychotic individuals. It’s a burgeoning mental health crisis, out here. Much of the dissent and “acting out” is based upon some demographic crisis, of which the truth of the matter could ostensibly be difficult, even for professionals, social workers, and mental health outreach teams to effectively understand, in terms of some means of civil service being put in to effect, which could quell the ongoing drama and settle the unease of the citizens who reside here. 

Being on the ground level, out on the streets, here, myself, in particular - for being one of the dedicated bird flocks’ caretakers in the locality, as well as that I happen to patronize Skid Row drug dealers, I get, at a minimum, at least some conjectural intelligence and informed status, in regards to what seems to be going on, within the campus that precludes downtown Los Angeles. 

The mental health system is failing abuse victims, as the prevailing disposition that I’m presented with, for example. I do my best to accommodate my otherwise poor emotional support mechanism, in life, through aesthetic means, whether it be situational, environmental, artistic, and sometimes, I seek the pleasurable. Long days of persecution, of my schizotypal mind, by personas that fall by the wind, during the majority of my life - who truly is in my life, to any appreciable degree? 

My apologies, for making this a personal note, on my blog. It got neglected, of my earlier ambition to cover the greater mental health victims demographic, and I got swept in to a several-hours long remote sensing debacle, largely of forgettable and transient things, lacking in accountability, and yet seething with sadism about it. Apparently, one person cares to see me incarcerated, rather than that I take, for myself, an amount of crystal methamphetamine that drug dealers care to allocate and provide, of my purchasing from them.

Update: 10/17/2021: As it turns out, today would perhaps stand as one in which infamy reigned over personal freedoms and the autonomous mind. I made a report, last night, to the FBI (or tried to; there was an impassable form input error message). Would that have happened to have hijacked my attention span? All in all, I made some off-color jokes last night, and people are in an uproar about this and that, still; people from my past, who harbor a distaste for me, for my penchant for honesty. Today was a day of descent, so to speak, in to the recesses of the prelimbic mind, (which happens to be under review, or subject to < rescind >, “apparently,” as far as autocorrect goes). Yikes. Watch out, there. In any case, I founded this .institute aspiration and enterprise based upon much of what an intelligence and development enterprise ought hold as sacred knowledge; things that must be kept, throughout disaster and peril. 

The disavowal of pre-limbic mind. Mind control. I’m just, at this point in time, (acutely), being offered dissent, in regards to my freedom. It appears to be a home town row and hazing of me; I can tell: the type of demographic is telling, at times. People speaking so freely, and without care, or consideration towards me, and as I’d mentioned, I’m simply largely alone, in life, at this point in time. I suppose that I’ve upset some people. Not everyone, by any means, but quite apparently - some people. 

The DTLA Civil Defense Audible Apparatus Installations (updating)

The downtown Civil Defense Apparatus first caught my eye as an interrent homeless person in DTLA last October.

The device looks as though it might be a flame-heater « au jour » for the civilians to make use of in public (which would be a fortunate thing, at some points in time; being myself: homeless). [revised: originally composed 05/16/2019]


A DTLA Civil Defense Apparatus
Hill at 8th

Various lores about the need for these installations to have come in to place - namely to the effect of that they were old announcement satellite speakers that would herald some sort of Cold War anomaly going on.




Mid-Wilshire

Update: I happened upon another Civil Defense Audible Apparatus in South Los Angeles, the other day, after having jogged and walked back towards my home, from the Inglewood area. (October 16th, 2021); I’m now housed, thankfully, as an update.


Manchester at Harvard - Happy Fish Market | Ralph’s



Given various critical analysis; it would be obvious that there would ostensibly be a <_ alarms="" aloof="" an="" autonomous="" be="" being="" box="" crane="" dictattaphoneur="" for="" gain="" hoisted="" if="" in="" ladder="" lift="" man="" nbsp="" need="" of="" or="" p="" perhaps="" platform="" some="" sort="" sounded.="" status="" superior="" the="" there="" to="" up="" used="" visually="" was="" were="" while="" yet="">
Given the wear on the objects, and that [I believe]: that these things had been relatively new additions to DTLA and surrounding areas as of this past year, 2018. 

Maybe back then, the things did serve fire and heat

to continue; of that they are rusted, yet not thoroughly; and perhaps they are refurbished and remanufactured with some grit about the outsides of the poles. 


Saturday, October 16

Stub: The Impending Crisis for Mental Health Patients - Neck Cancer.

 Neck cancer is a relatively new topic for me. I hadn’t heard of it, prior to a couple or so months ago (it’s now mid-October, 2021, at the time of this writing).

Cancer of the neck? I’ve had esophageal tuberculosis (I think it was; the doctors said that it was something else, or … I dunno. They kind of just disregarded it. Anyways, I lost my voice for perhaps a few months. It turns out that there were hard gobs of mucous stuck inside of my vocal cords, and I could get them out with a Q-tip. I surmise that I had contracted the disease through a tuberculosis test which I had been administered while hospitalized for an acute psychiatric emergency, for a month, or so. They denied that the TB test would cause tuberculosis, though. Some doctor had disavowed it, later on, in history. 

Here’s some of the knowledge base on neck cancer, from cancer.gov:


My red mark-up indicator brings to light a corollary topic which pertains to mental health, and remote sensing, as well as persona marketing, counter-intelligence, mind control, and gang stalking contexts. I’ll only get in to it stub, here, for brevity’s sake, and I’ll keep it simple, such as to let the reader’s mind ponder. 

Now, as well, with the advent of the cytokine storm of COVID-19 infections, which is an inflammatory disease, we see some notion of the otherwise common person, pushed too far, perhaps in their digital life, where life seems more compelling to indulge, for some, as that the constraints of the physical become the pains in the neck, whereas some of our hormones are regulated in the thyroids, which are situated right next to our major neck arteries. 

Some quick tips, as for harm reduction:

  • Don’t smoke scuzzbwies and drywall. Just… just [fuck…] already. 
  • Smoking is for tobacco, as far as lawful behavior is concerned. Becoming casual about “smoking” of other sorts lends itself to increased risk for total recall (full body scans, and transmutability unto others, aka Scientology “gods,” or idols of some sort, out of the subject.
  • Remember the lessons of childhood. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Respect your elders. Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. 
  • I’ve got an “advanced neck cracking” instructional video up on YouTube. Check it out. It might be revolutionary for you. Sure, it looks bad, but hey, this is the neck at issue. What kind of donor could offer a suitable adjunct parcel of body form and what kind of treatment protocol could be supposed, in such a situation?
  • Just watch the video. I’m shooting for organic hits, here, and I know, it’s significantly niche, but if I do something on camera, and leave it posted, I’d hope that it at least helps some people out of their otherwise misery that they’re living through.

Tuesday, October 5

LA Metro subterranean blasting causes plurisubharmonic seismic vibrations, shaking South LA and West Hollywood.

 Being that I stay up for a long time; days, even (still, at this point in life), I have a keen sense of when things seem to go awry, of slight motions and activities of people around me. 

Today was a particularly strange day, nearly gone by, at this hour - of the “latest” waking period, as I call it, colloquially, in my own estimations. There were significant thunderstorms and rainy activity 😗 umm… yesterday, that is… since I’d not slept last night, as it turns out. <_<…? In any case, there were significant thunderstorms yesterday, and leading up to it, I felt that some sort of barometric pressure was pushing through the locality around me, even affecting me inside of my bedroom. Sometimes I wonder if it’s my ionic mineral supplementation intake, being subsumed by the planes flying overhead, in the jet stream line-of-sight, leading up to LAX Airport’s landing runway. During the day, there’s typically even shadows cast, commonly, over my head, or “in the way” of the sunlight, with the shadows of the planes flickering the light, shining through my window, or sometimes I go out for a cigarette, and I get flashed by the plane’s shadow. It’s enough to cook up some viable paranoia, right? 

So, the barometric pressure is one thing, the storms are another, and the reputation of the area, this being South Los Angeles, makes for a suggestible fable to be run by me, such as that “terrorists” are flexing their might, in opposition to the authorities, and they’re going around, blowing up the water mains, underground. On top of that, the story had gotten so detailed, such as to suggest that much of South Los Angeles was going to be host to a massive sinkhole, like the ones that we hear or read about, sometimes, happening in South America. 

But this evening, as I went out to West Hollywood to do some gig work, I felt a distinct blast; I heard it, as well, and some shockwaves followed the blast, so I reasoned that the blasting must be for the sake of Metro’s subterranean station and terminal outlets, for the private spaces and expanse required to keep the train lines running smoothly, which they do. I must say that hold-ups and delays of the trains are typically trivial in the Los Angeles Metro Train system, and they only last a few minutes, at most. There are two lines being developed, one of them the Crenshaw Line, which would reasonably assume that my area, running parallel to Crenshaw Blvd., would see some shaking, over in my area, of this sort. The other line being developed and worked on, at this point in time, is the expansion of the Purple Line, in to the Westside localities of Beverly Hills and Century City, going up Wilshire. 

So that was it, as far as terrorist plot explosions theories, broken water mains, and sinkholes becoming established. It’s all part of the workweek, in other words. 

The sun sets over rush hour traffic, somewhere in Los Angeles.


Wednesday, September 29

A 6th Step Meeting of Narcotics Anonymous - Reflection.

 As a former 

attendee of 12-step self-help meetings, I recalled, upon passing by The Lodge, in West Hollywood


(out on a jaunt, hauling my shelf back home, from Century City),



the eponymous “reflection meeting,” apparently characterized as a facet of a 6th step meeting.

Friday, September 24

Updating: Analyzing and Comparing the Efficacy of Two Common Learning Methods - Immersion Versus Self-Quizzing.

 Every now and then, I get quizzed on knowledge base, perceptual acuity , memory tasks of contexts pertaining to occurrences and developments in my life, and of “seemingly” random tidbits of learning, taxonomy, culture, or lore (otherwise), in my remote-sensing environments which happen upon me.

This sort of thing happens on a regular basis. The remote-sensing quorums are attended by various classes and types of individuals, yet commonly, the topic basis is one of a civil complaint against me, and I find myself chronically stressed out, in life, of various sorts of consequences. The pursuit of an ever more leisurely outlook and disposition, in life, is an obvious lure for me, and unfortunately, I find myself deprecating in to former and legacy modes of behaviors, such as seeking novel or imprudent sorts of entertainment online, for example, rather than using my strengths, and building upon gainful and productive aspirations in life. 

 The app I have in mind, in this instance, is a simplistic one, although I would strongly presume that the merits are founded, and sure. 

Why an app? 


Mobile development is an industry that had a significant heyday leading up to the time of the Pandemic, and by all means, it’s an industry that will see growth, to come, as various demographics see a rise and fall in their social and class status underpinnings; I’d suppose that would happen, based on much of the “conjectural” (perceptual?) confessionals and Freudian Slips that I’d been privy to, as we’re all under interrogation by the higher authority, until we become the highest authority, when it comes to a remote sensing tech and lifestyle sort of, uh, lifestyle. 

Within the gold rush timespan, leading up to the era of high-powered mobile device hardware, we saw many shining stars emerge in app development, which fulfilled many of the needed purposes to be seen through in app development in an ever-increasingly more compact, more large if need be; more graphics, higher data throughput and storage capability expectation and demand, on our devices. Activities and pursuits of merit, once confined, largely, to the classroom environment and to libraries, were suitably accommodated and made much more accessible to the layperson of an aspirational creed, who would shrug off the influence of pirating goods (and jailbreaking,, etc.), and go with the program, as far as discovering what was available and being offered through mainstream big tech app stores, offered by Google, Apple, and now Amazon (does Microsoft do an App Store for their mobile devices? I don’t know, off-hand, but I’d assume so). 

The point is,

is that many developers and programmers had staked their worth and product offerings, early on, and they’d established themselves, app-wise, as the go-to solution that people would come to discover, and support, for menial scrum pay - that many App Store offerings were given to people as, with archetypes such as the iTunes Store’s $0.99 offerings of parted-out pieces of what could, would, or had been full albums, previously; many of such apps, themselves, offering a similarly compartmentalized concept of what productivity and development, or “work,” on mobile devices could, and ought be, as it was envisioned and carried out. 

My go-to app, for learning about neural networks, all learning and literature (mostly) aside, came to be Neuronify. Was it free? Did I pay for it? I don’t quite remember, but if it cost anything, it was a couple, or several dollars, or so. It seemed to do the job, as imaginable as it might be, for a dilettante entry in to app-attainment goals, for my arrays, choices, and learning-basis inclusions on to my mobile devices, and for that matter, SSD hard drive space, on an iPad, even more so than on a mobile phone device - it goes a lot further than on a desktop environment (as well as better than phones can offer). I’ve currently (September 2021) got 569 apps, 6020 photos, 346 videos, 168 songs, on my device, which features 256 GB of SSD storage, and I’m only down to about 161 GB remaining. I do anywhere from a 4+ hour to 8-hour screen time daily average, given a week, on my iPad Pro device, particularly now that I’d lost my Google Android Pixel 4a 5G, which is part of a great series of mobile phones, for the cost, by the way. For that matter, the Google Store also features the Neuronify DIY neural networks mapping (doing) app, as well. 

The premise of a neural network is fairly basic, in essence. There aren’t all that many parameters and objects that would be featured in Neuronify, but the significant feature of having development and productivity, on mobile, playing out, at the speed of whatever measure of achievement that could be wrought out of the device and app, through the user’s input, as a moving visual image: interactive, and engaging that it is, playing out on the screen, is part of an attainment, in mobile device development, particularly on the iPad (Pro), which would have formerly only existed in richly-resourced study and research learning and development environments, and tracing even further back, in static image renders, of the calculations involved, and even further than that, in people’s imaginations. At some point, the technology falls back in time, in to philosophical codices, with the basis and need for the science of neurology being a pursuit, study, and investigation of what comprises the mind, itself, and it’s functioning, at the most critical points of investigation and discovery that could be had. What works? What doesn’t? What is the most effective cause and effect cycle and premise? Which types of decisions and behaviors are harmful, or wasteful? These sorts of questions could be proven, to as best the researcher could prove, to the scientific community, whom, in turn, would be capable of producing the same results, in a lab setting, thus validating the discovery. 

Within the app itself, as I’d mentioned earlier, there are only several parameter objects and icon type tools, or actions and feedback mechanisms, in other words, of the interface. The interface, in and of itself, is a node-based class of workflow environment.

The Neuronify app interface, on a 2020 model iPad Pro.

Here, then are the various user interface tools of the app:

Leaky excitatory neuron
Leaky excitatory neuron
Adaptive excitatory neuron
Adaptive excitatory neuron
Leaky inhibitory neuron
Leaky inhibitory neuron
Adaptive inhibitory neuron
Adaptive inhibitory neuron
Voltmeter
Voltmeter
Spike detector
Spike detector
Firing rate plot
Firing rate plot
Loudspeaker
Loudspeaker
DC current source
DC current source
AC current source
AC current source
Irregular spike generator
Irregular spike generator
Regular spike generator
Regular spike generator
Visual input
Visual input 
Touch activator
Touch activator
Note
Note

My hypotheses:

Premise 1: innovative skills arise out of need, as well as out of rote. 

Some findings and observations, upon that basis:

  • Needful skills could only possibly attend to the problem which arises. In this case, I’m choosing productivity as the title of merit. Takin time to discern and decipher, as well as determine that the problem is resolved, and move forth, is hampered by products of neural activity that could rely on lesser or greater electrical pulses, at a more accommodating timing, if the problem at hand were capably handled by a more singular and fluid, unique mind, rather than a mind of more randomness. Electrical efficiency is the requisite object of attainment.
  • My preference, for deciphering that engaged and interactive learning, for example, is the superior backdrop to a greater productivity, is that the problems are being resolved in an engaging, real-time environment. Calculations happen quicker through methods gained in using hand-eye coordination types of skill sets - gestural and procedural industriousness, of various other enterprises of life, which pertain to economics, could be translated over in to the argument for an active learning environment basis to a more capable and effective problem-solving style, compared to a “flash card” setting, of completely randomized data sets, this being the cards. 
  • The goal of this hypothesis would be to employ certain scientific control environments of my own study, ask individuals for their input, and analyze their statements and claims, as well as their preferences, and discover, within the control environment, whether or not they find similarity, or comparability, in their input received, when calculated against my personal findings. On one hand, it takes a high Intelligence Quotient (IQ) to discern valid mathematical truths about a visual environment, of an insightful nature, yet - I would assert that we, as intelligent and rational creatures, would pursue and develop upon gainful, rational, formal structures, rather than something more founded upon chance, randomness, (even within a finite series of choices), memory - which would alter the resonant section, even, of the brain, itself - a costly transformation; I would say more so, than if the knowledge were understood by an actively engaged mind, of rote discipline, and familiarity, set about in a workflow and industrious setting and environment. 
I’ll pause here, in writing, because I’ve arrived at my destination, of where I’m going, for this part of the day.

 

Tuesday, September 21

It’s nesting time, for the pigeons.

 It’s the end of a balmy summer, out here in South Los Angeles, and the Harbor Freeway (Highway 110) underpasses are a favorite nesting spot for the flocks of pigeons. 

The Manchester underpass of the Harbor Freeway features a stoop for pigeons. I’ve been visiting this brood since 2018. 

Nearby, as I got out of a medical appointment earlier today, I came across a darling pigeon parent moment: the nest-making ritual. Here, the babies had already been born, and they’re growing up, fully feathered, and soon, they’ll be ready to fly. The parents make the nest, over and over, to teach the young some pertinent bird mannerisms, such as the use of the bill, for feeding, and for general use in procuring things that they need. Around town, the birds have the habit of asking for food by pecking around on the sidewalk, and the street. It’s what they know how to do, as a sociable gesture towards their caretakers - us, as humans. 

This busy pigeon parent was witnessed remaking the nest for baby pigeon. It’s exciting to see the pigeons pairing up and having success in breeding. The pigeons had been seen through a faithful series of seasons of regular feedings, and they’d been well supplemented this year, on top of that, so they’re taking care of themselves, and their young, particularly well. 



Saturday, September 18

Essential Urban Survival Technique - Thwarting an Ether Faucet Attempt.

 Any well-traveled trekker | overnighter of the urban landscape knows the feeling well: 

Having happened upon life, as such, as that sleep becomes unfortunately inevitable, at an inopportune time, in an inappropriate locale; that is, might seem as though it’s somewhat the sufferer’s own fault, for grazing in unfamiliar territory. 

 Even so, don’t be afraid, and don’t be discriminatory in where you set foot, about town; simply go about life as a well-prepared individual, well-resourced, well-packed, and you’ll do just fine. 

I’d not done so well, in previous years, but I’m nearing upon age 40, and I’d say that I’d experienced the vast majority of life experiences that I’d possibly come across, in my time, and there’s not much that could be done to me that I hadn’t experienced, previously, as a well-heeled trekker of the Los Angeles urban landscape. Just this past week, in fact, I thwarted a so-called (nicknamed via my own predilections) ether faucet, which is a classic simple petty theft’s criminal’s doing, or perhaps they’d do worse, to a lady, or something like that. 

It happens as misfortunately as described, just prior: a sudden need to fall asleep at an inopportune time, in an inappropriate place; perhaps a poor part of town, infested with tents, cockroaches, trash, rioting going on - that sort of thing. The police are on top of it, or something like that. People have to rest, sometimes, and letting loose an ether faucet will put the freeze on things, so to speak. 

What is ether?

I don’t really know what, or which - (ether) is the particular ether in question, and I’m not going to look it up, either. For my purposes, ether could potentially be a fragrance chemistry industry solvent, (… eh, I won’t elaborate on it - I don’t own any, myself), and ethers are a particular class of chemical compound, aside from that. It’s the sort of thing that could get somebody some unfortunate attention, perhaps, from the authorities, that is. My purpose here isn’t to educate the reader about ether, the drug: the primitive anesthetic that it is, as a basis. I had first learned about it from the drug-lore film, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” in which one of the guys was playing around with it, and look how Johnny Depp ended up - handsome heartthrob, early on, and well in to his later career, yet he’d been beset with tabloid scandal, in his later years, for living out his acting career roles (ostensibly) to a real-life pitch, in the behind-the-scenes sort of lifestyle that inevitably becomes the duty of the actor, playing the part. The other guy, Guillermo Del Toro, (or something like that; this is all off the top of my head, here), ate more food, throughout life. A bit more innocent, as far as analysis goes. I hadn’t caught wind of any poor press about him. Johnny Depp, on the other hand, had recently hit the scandal headlines, with his breakup from Amber Heard, a model, etc. etc.

Anyways…

An ether faucet. A scum bag tweaker’s crude weapon in assailing a targeted victim who stays out too late, or who ventures off in to an unseemly part of town, without imbibing in drug use (breaking bread) with the locals, who’d like to rob or rape the person being targeted, or perhaps it’s some measure of riot and crowd control, implemented by the authorities, following an outbreak of acute societal unrest, in the civic center area, about town. This was somewhat my experience of things, as I woke myself up, out of the narcoleptic, deadening slumber, which happens to accompany an uncharacteristic chill, to the limbs and body; a noticeably chill wind about the air, and an incapable self, as for getting up, waking up, and getting out of the area, for that criminals could easily thwart the individuals defenses, and gain access to their valuables, or possibly kidnap the person, and commit foul things, for a ransom; for example. 

Fortunately, I was well-equipped with an orange flower absolute spray bottle, 

just large enough to hold several dozen sprays, and yet, orange flower absolute: complex enough, to thwart an aerosol-based attack as crude as an ether faucet. I sprayed one spray, after coming to realize that I ought not sleep it off, and be content, and the tiredness was immediately swept away. 
There were intimations of a mockery of me, coming about, in my misfortune, of “some girl” sitting down, in front of me, where I lay, on the sidewalk, saying stuff like “hey, how’s it going?” 😘

That was my opportunity to get up, and get about, on my way, to my standard haunt, which I won’t disclose. The tiredness came and went, intermittently, throughout various parts of town, but my orange flower absolute reconstitution did the job quite well. I used Poucher’s formulation (Poucher was a noted armed forces scholar, in literature and in photography). Here’s his recipe for orange flower absolute, which can also be further researched through Google Books online. 


  An ether faucet is a horrible thing to burden, but hey, maybe it averted a worser societal outcome, all in all. Being properly prepared, with a complex aromatic aerosol compound is simply part of the technique in appropriately surviving the threat, coming through, with all valuables and reputation intact. It smells great, for that matter, and it’s a unisex sort of fragrance. Take heed, though, certain formulations of an orange flower absolute could be overly simplistic, or detrimental, in the sort of chemistry involved in what ether is, which I don’t quite know, myself, and I don’t really care to investigate it, online, for that matter. Just order some ingredients, and make the stuff yourself. It’ll assist you in embodying a more outgoing and adventurous self, as the cold months to come, ahead, accommodate the sort of robbery tactic that succumbing to an ether faucet would entail. 

Monday, September 13

Fitting in, as the paranoid schizophrenic narcissism movement’s poster boy mascot.

People who are adequately properly acquainted with me 

know that I have a hard time getting out of my head, when it comes to sitting down and socializing. I have to admit, I’ve been off, for a good stretch of time, given right now, and the months leading up to this point in time (Summer 2021), and there’d been little hope of seeing a clearing through the Los Angeles, CA “fog.” 

Here, in the militarized zone (TMZ) of Los Angeles, which is tech worker knowledge 101 (or, to be precise, “A+” certification priory of knowledge base, we, for one thing, don’t wake up, per se, in the morning. It just happens, eventually, as the sorry trudge through remaking ourselves, in professionalism, in a world where our Apple devices can’t capably we’ll be self-serviced, for one thing, and nobody much… well, everyone else, let’s say, would care to do the service on their devices for themselves. 

Okay. Actually, it’s not fog. At least, not that I could put my finger on it. Maybe the photo doesn’t capture it all that well, and it seems like a clear photo, above; from here to there, with my plain eyes, in viewing, the half-block, or so, distance from my vantage point, to the buildings nearby, I’ll say, are a bit “not quite” the standard “clear,” as could be said about “seeing things” and what might be expected, based on reasonably good vision. 

It’s easier to see the disparities in clarity, in the short-distance atmosphere of the place (DTLA) at night, through the early morning, lately, and I just happen to receive punishing intimations and suggestions, in my remote sensing assignment, laid upon myself (this started happening in 2012, right around this time of year, in fact) of all sorts of “me, myself (Jay)” types of storylines in my head, and it makes me really neurotic and somewhat casually dismissive of others, if they happen to break form with attending to the present moment, and with a purpose-driven mind about conversation, if anything’s to be said at all, about anything, for that matter, and as for myself, I’m readily one to admit that I’ve problems, and it’s “complicated,” let’s say. 

For example, I met a young lady last night, and she was a fawning courtesan to me, upon passing my way. I was digging through the garbage, trying to find some food, and there was a tasty soft drink in there, which I enjoyed, and she took to me, quite effectively, and I was drawn in to the prospect of making her acquaintanceship. We ended up speaking on friendly terms, well enough, as she acted as though she were enamored by me, but there was something just, perhaps, simply “in the way” of things. For one thing, she wanted to fix my recyclables collecting trait about myself, and she kept telling me that she would hold my bag for me, as we eventually left our initial place of meeting, and we went out for a walk (I wanted to go to the grocery store, for food; perhaps a bit extravagant, given that there was good food in the trash for me, that I hadn’t gotten to investigating and clearing for eats, by the time she met me). I do a standard gentleman, no problem, well enough, when I meet a new acquaintanceship, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have “not really” been an on-site, ITF, misfortunate stalking target, per se, lately; I don’t know what it is. Had they gotten been “talked to” about that sort of thing, or do I just look better? Is it my fragrance that I’m wearing, or is it because I put on some weight and muscle? Maybe it’s a bit of all of those things, although I am commonly troubled by how I look, facially, in the mirror, lately, on account of that I don’t get to sleep as much as I readily aught would sleep, give, how bothered and troubled I am, in my head. 

These developments,

I would say, would trouble anyone. Anyone who’s validly a peer to me, and many-to-most of them had abandoned me, and taken on a purpose about me, of disregarding that I have any decency about me, and all sorts of complaints and claims attesting to some sort of beliefs about me arise, in the dialectical, and I wind up being the center of people’s attention. Granted, it’s nice to be paid attention to, sometimes, and it’s even more delightful to win out, in intelligence, when somebody shows up to insult me, but the public is the greater determiner, I’ll say, of what’s truthfully valid and appropriate up-to-the-minute debriefing and slight course for facing judgment, from others, whereas I simply “hear,” or… 🤔 <_< “perceive,” I’ll put it, to be more appropriate, to the point, these various points of contention from former peers, who show up, in my “privacy” of my attending mind, at issue, and they simply never reach out on Facebook, or whatever, or respond, when I look them up and query them about how they’d been acting, in my head, which I happen to believe that they do, since I took on this schizophrenia sort of burden, back around this time of year, to be precise, tracing back to 2012. 

All sorts of wild stories and painful memories. 

Why not just admit to that you feel that way about me? I can fix it, if it’s a problem.

But the social ladder equivalent of being the gorilla’s silverback male, “given me,” endlessly (since back in 2012), shows back up, and I’m significantly troubled by what’s come of things, of my school days peers, and what they claim about me, or claim is significant topic of issue about me, and sometimes, I make them look truthfully, woefully, foolish (or worse), and I must say, I’ve got quite the penchant for the spoken or written word, and I’ve got a ton of great experiences to talk about, (if only) people would “actually” speak to me, which this girl, (getting back to the thread I had initiated, just a moment ago) was doing, with me. I had to eventually ditch her, though. Once, and then I came across her, again, and I’ve got it awrr rawr rough and tough, sometimes, with how I truly make a practice and discipline about life, to do life as I was brought up to be - a good baptist Christian man, since my boyhood, and stuff; I’ve got to make amends on what I’d been led astray for, in life, and presented of myself; my superficial self, amongst people, although I’d never quite all that much, to be honest, really betrayed my Christian upbringing. 

So I try to tame these wild ones - awrr rawr, rough and tough, with some patience, common sense, British intellect and know-how, of the cultural attainments made, on their part, given my Cantonese mother’s upbringing, and such: 

It’s just… how it is. Look it up. The British managed and ruled over Hong Kong, until 1997, I believe, imparting the early modern period and western traditions upon the Chinese, in Hong Kong - for 150 years (or so), until they returned Hong Kong to the Chinese government, at which time, it became… I dunno, “Chinese,” more so, (again; perhaps), and we happen to live in a Los Angeles, CA, where racial slights and slurs, and awrr rawr - rough and tough insults and “most casual” beliefs and practices of superiority and dominance features significantly, in the common mores and cares of society at large, and I’m one of them - the Cantonese; at least, a half of me. The other half is Lithuanian descent (my father, quite reliably - resembles the recent United States of America’s Vice President, Mike Pence, to be sure). 

Anyways, we all know how slight the Chinese get treated as, out here, and perhaps it’s largely a globalized perceptual basis that’s become familiar to many - the detriment to progress and the establishment of vast achievements and efforts put in to eliminating civil rights abuses, of others, and we’d “supposedly” (at least, in the courts, and in the minds of good Christian types of people, in America) gotten the slights, slurs, and casual insulting beliefs of our people straightened out, about many sorts and types of people that come to exist, in America, and that’s the primary basis of this country, to a large degree, on one hand. 

It just sucks, and I broke my hand, last month, punching the wall, exercising great lengths in patience and non-aggression, whereas I’m bound by the law, and - I’m on probation, on top of things, so if I mess up, again, in allowing physical violence to come of me, as for how others are treated, in life, I’m duly and highly susceptible to becoming remanded, if it gets around to that the police get called to attend to the issue, and I don’t much care to take a chance with that sort of thing. It’s a two year sentence that I was released, on conditional terms, and then, I didn’t follow through with anything, because I’d been bothered, in my mind, (schizophrenia), from back then (2017, or so), till now - fairly constantly, as a chronic and debilitating issue. 

Try it (not really, though <_<…) - breaking your hand against the wall, as an undisciplined fighter; as the angry person. I’ve got  a plate and pin, in my strong hand, and it was a one-two punch, that it was, this time around, but my weaker hand didn’t have all that I thought of myself - turns out. It’s healing up nicely, well enough, now, though. I’m a bit ambivalent about it. On one hand, I like the tough guy, scars, and such, sort of facets and traits about me, although I’m not quite… let’s say, “not disturbed,” of the mind, to attend to my higher purpose, and due diligence, to, like, the gym, or proper exercise, and stuff. I just go out, and I binge on drugs, and that’s obviously not allowed. I just feel that I need it. Not every drug, yet I’m woefully a habitually methamphetamines abuser, although I’m set on the self-maker statement, of my formative self esteem, and aspirations, of that I’m constantly trying to quit, and maybe - this time around, as for today - I’m going to do it properly, since I hear about such horrible things going on, and I don’t really care to elaborate on things, because of the degree of disgust that would be involved, about stuff, if I made it real, by talking about it. 

I feel like, maybe… some people care, and some people… just care “otherwise,” and significantly obsessively and abusively so, and I broke my hand against the wall, because I’ve entrained myself as a significantly astute Christian man, against doing life, of aggression, that. I could, …

but that would just spoil my self-affirming beliefs of that I could really do something in life, and I meet such great people, in my mind, and if only, at that, and violence, as a basis, isn’t all that much an appropriate, or date-worthy sort of topic to even touch upon - I can speak on so many other good and appropriate contexts, such as my feeding the birds thing, and the art associated with it; that’s all good and appropriate, enough - sort of topic that could, perhaps, … hmm. How to say it… I dunno. I’ll let others decide for themselves, and I’ll have things my way, and see how things go. 

I don’t really know what to say… if you don’t talk to me, about anything but abusive sorts of stuff to say about someone, and I know I look bad, lately (facially), sometimes, … and if these people take drugs all the time, … like they “do…” - let’s be real here. This type of behavior must, and could only be explained by drug abuse, and for keeping up with me, and I look so poorly, of the face, and stuff, … but that’s me. I try to do stuff to make up for things. 

I guess that’s all, for now. I’ve got stuff to do today. It’s Monday. Work schedule, and work week, sorts of stuff. 

But the blasting, going on, and the disturbances, and stuff… I dunno. I can’t fix everything - especially if people keep messing with me, and then, if I just couldn’t possibly like you, right now, … like, for reals, then just go away. “I’m gonna leave, now:” sorts of stuff. And that’s okay. 

Saturday, September 4

The life of baby striped-wing pigeon: photo blog.

 This baby pigeon is developing a notable curious personality around his human caretakers. See some of the developments of him and the flock, after they settle in, for a bit, after a meal, when they mingle about and show off their virtues, as birds, in preening themselves. It is both social hour and development time, in the nurturing environment setting, and with how intelligent birds can be, attaining a publicly-accessible wild-to-domesticated flock characteristic seems to be within reach, given some dedication over the coming years. 



Just today, I rescued this baby pigeon from having string tied around his feet. He was trusting enough to allow me to nab him and hold him close to me, as I carefully removed the string around his feet. Fortunately, the string wasn’t that tight. It symbolizes a significant milestone in the flock’s collective tameness and trust, which is, essentially, a call for mercy and grace for the pigeons, outside of the times in which I am present and feeding them. Desiring to own the birds, as they become more near to what would considerably be a pet, is an obvious lure, for some, in having little experience in handling birds, yet it takes efforts of some and various sorts, in public relations, I would imagine, in establishing appropriate boundaries and rational considerations for what’s best for ourselves, as well as the birds of DTLA; here, the location is Pershing Square, where I’m giving a relatively large and common flock of birds food, water, and socialization care, several times a week, or every day that I can do this task. 

The older birds will never attain domesticity amongst humans. This is the important thing to keep in mind. The foundling period, post-nestling phase, of the ecology of the flocks and breeding pairs of birds, is a most vulnerable time in the pro-sociable health and development of the flocks of pigeons. In this stage, in a pigeon’s life, the babies come out to eat and explore, with feeding the birds, and watering them, being the traditional and formal greeting of the flock for humans. In this small locality (Pershing Square), an afternoon feeding is common, and on occasions where I had stuck around, for a while, a venturesome squirrel appears, and he enjoys a slice of bread, as well. 

A squirrel 🐿 in DTLA’s Pershing Square.

















Curious baby pigeon stands out, amongst the crowd.

Update: 

For those of you who don’t follow along on my Twitter so much, I’ll update you on my latest developments of the day. I started working on the curious baby pigeon stands out amongst the crowd vectorized, posterized, film noir stylized ink brush illustration [and subsequent print out, for display], and it’s looking fabulous, after about 6 1/2 hours work put in to it. 

 

Wednesday, September 1

Alternatives to Gig Work, Now that the Federal Extension Unemployment Benefits are Ending.

 Although it may seem like a bleak outlook on the newsfeed, lately, I'm not going to freak out. There are plenty of ways in which I can assert my enterprising self and my entrepreneurial spirit, even as of yet;

Hopefully you'd also managed to procure and safeguard some capital investments, using unemployment benefits from the Employment Development Department, etc. - for me, it was perfume and fragrance | aroma ingredients that stuck things out, beyond the stock market and the cryptocurrency craze that hit many newcomers, from the wayside, with attractive and compelling distractions from what few opportunities many of us were afforded, due to the Covid-19 pandemic, and subsequent social strata fallout that was the Black Lives Matter movement and associated civic center occupations and unrest. 

In any case, you might be wondering what else there is to do, now that much of the attention is on the presidential administration, the weather, etc., while here, in Southern California, the weather is relatively balmy and cool - at least for a few days, now; we',ve got raindrops notifications coming through on Dark Sky, and it's only the height of mid-day that's unbearably hot and overly bright. Things could be worse; they « had been » worse, previously... 

Then, from out of what seems like nowhere, Google manages to pull through in some new releases; there's the Pixel 6 coming out soon, and with it (preceding it's release), there's plenty of self-starter enterprising frontier, development and production space that's rich as all of the major topics of Big Tech, as of late: AI, ML, Call Center stuff, IoT, online retail, ad marketing, domaining... that sort of thing. 


For me, Google Workspace reignited the development aspirations fire within me, and I was drawn in by Gmail's chat space, which, for me, is constantly dead space, or non-existent, as I work primarily on mobile; finger-flipping up and down, checking on this and that, waiting for my benefits to come in, ... although that was bound to come to an end, at some point in time. Now that those things had come to fruition, during their time, it's obvious that we'd expect to have something to show, as for ourselves, and for our adult life and professional careers, to come. That's how I see it, in any case. 

There's Dialogflow, which is the linguistic version of what was, and is - the visual foray of Machine Learning platform, which is TensorFlow; we've all been familiarized with the notion of what TensorFlow does for us, in having to go through Captchas, as the intelligence barrier, between us, and some fated necessary task of scripting, that comes about, as a result of browsing the web, sometimes. 

There's the Tovusound Organ Pipe Music Boxes, which I'm a huge fan of, as a DTLA pigeon carnival enthusiast and proponent (lately, I've been getting shipped around, various parts of town, for the sake of tending to the other pigeon flocks and small establishments of them, in numbers, whether they were known gatherings of birds, or unbeknownst to me), given that the birds are likely to flourish, here and there, regardless of whether or not it's the civic center, or not. In these many various locales that I traverse, I encounter signs of that the pigeons and the people are getting along well, and that the birds are treated well in various parts of town.

Friday, August 27

The importance of expressing affections, in order to attain fulfillment of our needs.

 I've arrived here late: 6:45 p.m., here, just outside of the Civic Center Metropolitan district of Downtown L.A., by the 23rd St. | Orthopaedic Institute Metro Expo Line Station. I'd been hoping to get here, even days sooner, in order to check up on the USC dumpster pigeons flock, at the parking lot, nearby Popeye's Chicken, located at the corner of Adams and Figueroa. 

The pigeons usually hang out, as a large flock, lined up at the edge of the back of the buildings.


Today, it was a scant crowd, with some pigeons scattered about, on the street lighting poles, and here and there. Not much. 




Regardless of that I had missed their standard day's hang out, which peaks in the late morning, perhaps, through early afternoon (I had slept in until 2:30 p.m., today; I was quite exhausted, apparently, from having arrived home, last night, around 1:30 p.m.). My Google Maps location tracking timeline says that I walked 52 miles yesterday: obviously not possibly true, and I didn't go to Arcadia; I'm not sure why or how that was put in to the timeline. 



I tossed the birds some old soggy sandwich, broken in to pieces, that I had procured, along my journeys from the the previous days. The birds were not quite actively attentive to me, and for the sake of that food had arrived for them, although I did get some reciprocation out of a few of them, after a few moments had passed. 



The moment had reminded me of the figurative meanings behind feeding the birds: seeking a "some day (to come)" affection, out of the flocks of pigeons, given years of care and dedication having been offered to them, and hoping for this long-standing task to effect a semi-domesticated manner and characteristic about the flocks, around town, and hopefully, some day, the birds will be hand-tame, out in public. It's a parable about the importance of loving and kind affections, in a sense. We all long to be with our life partner, and to establish a family around the ideas, based on the American Dream, although, as the images of the pigeons, here, in this case, show; we are not always successful at attaining our ends, means, and goals, in life, despite trying. 

In the end, I managed to get the pigeons' attention, and they did a roundabout whole-flock flight, for show. This behavioral pattern is to signal birds perching nearby of that resources had arrived, in order for the rest of the birds to eat. It's a pro-sociable figurative gesture; the rest of the birds are similarly seeking food, yet they would perhaps be missing out on the meal otherwise, whereas they are of intrinsic value to the entire flock, given that they're scouting out resources, just as similarly as they are, in this chosen source spot, for food; behind the building. It's a naturally-derived behavioral more, of worthy ethics about it. The human-relevant moral of this event is that we ought to have an ambient ethical threshold of consideration and manners towards others; it's the natural order, and sustainable life's path to follow. 

After some time, other birds had arrived, and they didn't seem all that hungry, for today. At least there's food sitting out, and tomorrow will be another day. 






Latest post.

Product Review: Alpha Ionone (Natural), from Perfumer’s Apprentice.

 Dedicated botanists, as for backdrop to a fragrance-making and mixing enthusiast “hobbyist” sort of pseudo-professional profile of perfume-...

iPigeon.institute’s most popular recent blog articles and posts