2024's 7th at Metro baby pigeon, out at night, looking for a bite to eat. |
A blog in support of pigeons' rights, lifestyle and tech topics covered, as well. The top local Los Angeles source for news and information on pigeons (and other local bird flock developments) since 2018. Unveil the secret lives of birds, gain insight into where to see the birds, and what's unique about each site where the birds can be found, locally, in and around Greater Los Angeles.
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Friday, March 29
Pigeon-watching hotspots to see in town - # 1: The 7th at Metro Station Pigeon Family.
Thursday, June 29
The iPigeon cool public mobile charging spots of greater and Metro Los Angeles, California, USA.
Web link: cool iPigeon free public charging spots of Metro and greater Los Angeles
Wouldn’t it be cool, if it was like Christmastime all year-round, in terms of being capable of plugging in, while venturing around Los Angeles, CA? In some spots, that is the case. Here in this blog, I’m seeking to cover these public and outdoor electricity plug-in offerings, as I set out in reclaiming my life by enjoying more of life on my mobile devices, free from the constraints and hard times that I encounter as a housed person.
The web app implementation interface covers only two locations off of the Gold Line, yet I'll be covering leads at seasonal homeless shelters, acquiring information, and re-establishing the autonomy of the well-connected subsidized phone subscriber persona | identity - the one who had not traded the phone outright for money for personal [essential] or questionable needs, although I have been that desperate myself, at times, I must say. That's a whole other non-issue to have become needful in being established, perhaps, if I'm to take in inventory about everything that passes through my I/O periphery, of as much of the day as I could make of it, whereas sometimes I just don't understand that people are doing this n' that... I had no idea... Pretty cool, ... cool stuff.
Alright. That's the latest; I'll keep this as one of the centric hub links for establishing various persona marketing potential mates or marketable lifestyles of tech of the enterprising homelessness "thing," of the overarching slake of how life happens to be, not only for myself, but largely because I don't quite understand some things that are told to me, despite appearances of accommodation, otherwise, which would typically leverage over in to the "notably strange" sorts of happenstance resonance tech-advanced-lifestyle blogging and research aspirations, device-mobile, people stealing my devices, sort of thing, and it's pretty confusing, or it's a Buddha's attainment of some 40% American demographic of affinity, a couple | several years ago, according to Pew Research Foundation, of which I'll pull up the link, just momentarily.
Okay. I had discovered the publication article, in question, on Facebook, memorably, and the date, at that time, was perhaps no later than 2013. This article, which was preceded by much well-received facets of popular culture burgeoned by a rapid expanse of the interest in personal and home luxury, as well as in essential oils and organics boom culture, of that Whole Foods had been touted as the largest grocer in America, with it's affinity and branding model basis in finery and artisan food, health, beauty, nutrition, and sustainability, not to mention animal rights and wellness facets of their corporate model.
Yoga pants - the ass-blogging photoblog site offshoots of People of Wal-mart « pre-ish » meme-official entity rights establishment, of that "we" or many of us, of a suitably unprofessional non-development culture had slade'd through youthful adulthood now, and then now was going on, like, all the time. At times, believably, we had had chosen those sorts of media outlets, they were "poppin' pussy" popular, and then, perhaps, sick fascination with the grotesque led to real-trauma medical photography-type stuff, and now | then, people simply block out negative experiences, and prefer that better things would befall them, unsuitably professionally so, of an irony, somewhat suggestive of a Freudian child-life "style" « something, » perhaps. Some people would know, and I've gotten some off-basis "Jewish flack" connotations lobbed at me, quite notably so, of an abnormal psychology establishment, of some other establishment which had got turned to confessionals, etc. "stuff." Which I do, personally, just because it's compellingly (well, okay), I have to admit, I was raised quite mostly appropriately.
The stories of others have yet to establish a contextual text-literacy basis of caring enough to twiddle fingers in to words, such as garbage blog basis that commonly comes to pass, yet somewhat as well, somewhat not quite - if it just didn't, and such n' such, Jewish thing? I didn't really have any idea about it, still somewhat unclear, on my end. Maybe it's not even me, not even knowing about it, but I definitely didn't know about, personally. That's how secretive some of these abnormal psychologies developed, in such commonly textbook suitable nurturing environments.
I wouldbt, though, and I just didn't. Stuff. Garbage, though, I can get by on garbage, well enough. This isn't really that type of blog, though, but it is open public forum for perusal, as a minimum. I do maintain that I establish as linearly cohesive and development models of breakouts in intelligence formatting, and it tends to nothing, really, ... but non-content stuff sometimes slips the fweef, of supposing I'd just fweef and hang out with people like that.
"Who wouldn't?"
On one hand.
Although - I do get tested for memory role-modeling, and for bash shell-scripting Unix commands, for unpacking and deployment of completely suitable admin resources and libs, if necessary, simply... sometimes just imaginably so. But for the factuality of that it doesn't get done on my end, it also tends to somehow become a problem of other other people, of irrelevant issues, according to the strengths I could be using. All garbage, to speak of. But garbage, I run on, and I find it pretty suitable, in fact. Most typically.
I dunno, ... what other people do. I like good-looking people, though. Other people, this n' that, yip-yappin', and through speaking on these subjects, I somewhat refrain from caring well-enough for myself. I end up a bum. People assume it's a bum, off hand. It's doing some persona marketing thing of a critter sweater, most currently-status-bum. Searchable bum? Bum-searchable, latest thing, though. I could ... check on the checkin' status of "just maybe" stuff, but if it wasn't suitable for even garbage bum blogging regalia dissemination, it most commonly got a fix up of some attention to it, ... Something like that. Stuff just wasn't getting done, quite properly well enough, on my end, as what the issue ended up being.
-------
Alright. A guy came up and started talking to me. He's pretty normal. He gave me a Men's Fitness magazine. Pretty cool stuff. I have to admit, though, that the oppositional | avoidant characteristics of glossing over some of the identities behind what ended up being garbage blogging, back there, a bit, significantly threw me off, about something that was a topic to blog about.
Okay. It was the same blog, somehow. The My Maps blog.
Update to the "
Thursday, June 30
The DTLA (CA, USA) police administration dog park pigeon flock, having dinner.
This flock is a somewhat special flock, for demonstrating trusting behaviors, up to this point in time, although I’ve the same behaviors, previously, in some of the other flocks in town - it’s that the flocks become subjected to inappropriate human interventions in their populations by drugging them, catching them, and apparently, intentionally torturing and abusing them by tying strings around their feet and legs. It’s a travesty that this sort of behavior, by people, is still happening, but I’m committed to seeing to it, of that the birds continue to be fed and, with time, I expect that people will refrain from victimizing the town’s birds. It’s currently unknown “just who” is factually perpetrating these crimes, and I’m hoping to raise awareness and seek community solidarity, over time, in assisting in protecting the birds from intentional abuses, for observing the birds’ natural beauty, such as I have captured on video, today, and for recognizing their intrinsic worth as a locality attraction and for the potential of birds to touch people’s lives in perhaps unexpected and transformational ways.
Tuesday, June 14
Downtown Los Angeles’ new pigeon babies - season by season (Updating: 2022 - *)
In most cases,
2022 - Doe eyes and soft pastels, and a squirrel pigeon.
Friday, April 15
The DTLA Civic Center | Grand Park | City Hall Black Lives Matter Occupy Activism Event - Some Notes from Up-Close.
Now, nearly two years later (mid-April, 2022),
On one hand, out here, I generally tend towards that I “don’t” typically experience acts of discrimination, although my housing situation exploits the concepts of that racism still looms large, in various ways in which I can just “simply infer” that people see me as a simple and slight person, made up of my appearance and cultural heritage, which at times, becomes a trifling subject for the “locals” out in South Los Angeles - which is a place of a different sort, from the bustling big city, small town, that comprises downtown Los Angeles, in that - here and there, at times, archaic attitudes persist, which become visible in prejudiced and discriminatory behaviors that I’ve come to have observed. Today, here in 2022 (this article was originally authored on June 25th, 2020), we’ve been on a long journey - through unrest that had began it’s boil, following the civic unrest of many large cities across America, and later, through the more long-standing effects of the civil decrees that were laid out as part of the plan to combat the COVID-19 pandemic.
Tuesday, November 23
Ask iPigeon.institute: why do my genitals smell like I’m dirty from out of nowhere, lately?
I’ve been experiencing this phenomenon going on years, at this point, albeit in intervals. The experience of having this sort of debacle befall one’s self is a traumatic and humiliating one, to be certain, because most of us take care to keep ourselves clean. So why does this sort of thing happen? It would nearly seem as though we had somehow had a lapse in consciousness, where somebody had molested us, intentionally wiping their body odor on us, whereas we may have become aware of this; for me, for living out on the streets - it becomes a questionable occurrence, as well: then I clean myself, and it ends up happening all over again, whereas only a short time had passed, and there had been no established belief of that I had had a lapse in consciousness, or a strange encounter. Is it epilepsy? How could the continuity of time have been so seamlessly thwarted? It would, on the surface level, imply that there is a state of warfare, here in The Militarized Zone of DTLA and surrounding localities, of an unimaginable cost. There may be this sort of unspoken, ongoing strife and expenses wrought upon society, from where we stand, and stay, here, while intimations of “perhaps” truths are lobbed at us, some of them, an attempt to evince belief, others, to challenge us, of our beliefs, and some things that seem beyond belief.
So, what is the truth?
On some level, it’s important to simply just not freak out. Just recognize, or look it up: we do live in The Militarized Zone here. I didn’t know it until I started studying for my A+ certification, and I got the big book, for my studies. It seemed a somewhat aside note, yet somehow conceded, here, in this premise, for the techies. For the tech guys to understand. To gloat over it, or to disavow it would suppose that they’d been lying in this book of standard literature that many of us (perhaps mostly guys, this being the tech field and industry) had studied. I never went through with taking the test and certifying, but this inclusion of information was a preeminent and formative small facet of truth that was imbued in to my life.
To continue, upon “not freaking out,” it simply “makes sense” that we’re here, by our own choice and volition, and many of us had been indulging in the vice industries, here. On some level, it’s somewhat “allowed;” even included, in the list of startup business licenses that are available out here, in the city of Los Angeles (at some point, perhaps I’ll come across this moment, once again, in my own startups pursuits, and I’ll include the link; I feel that it would be a bit of an arcane lore thing to rediscover, and cite, at this point in time. At least the article will have been written, already, though).
The perhaps more sensible truth, that I’ll offer, being that casual remote sensing acquaintanceships and “portrayals,” I’ll say, are common - particularly for a guy like me, who tries to appear fetching and attractive. For example, an attractive young lady, about my age, or so, passed by me, as I was bummed out on the ground, earlier today. She was walking her dog. The supposition that I’d been attracted to her was gleaned, via intelligence, observing all of my interactions, feelings, thoughts, and emotions, all the time. Just maybe, she was attracted to me, as well. I personally choose to tread carefully, on this sort of context, since I know that I’m a bum. So how does this sort of thing happen? Is she a prostitute, smelling her day’s partner, and it becomes transmutable upon my own personage, for that a compellingly charming flirtation episode unraveled itself, as though she knew that I’m the pigeon-feeding bum? What did she really feel? was one of the suggestions lobbed at me. She was sociably a superior to me, as many women of this sort are: they get at the truth of sociability, in regards to many types of guys, and of girls who are like them, who live out this sort of prostitution-based lifestyle.
Or am I being stalked by guys who are upset that they’re outside, and there’s a handsomer bum out here, being a narcissist, and they somehow command this capability? I certainly doubt that I had an unbeknownst (and, for that matter), commonplace sort of genitalia-smell exchange sort of sicko molestation sort of quick encounter, of a reputation that I don’t know about, happening to me. That would seem to imply an inordinate demand upon people of a type of cost and primacy basis, of being somewhere at a timely-enough jaunt, such to render me a more humble and hapless man, whereas I don’t really deserve that sort of outcome, in life. Sure, I had once (only once, though), been an ass-grabber, and I’d “somewhat” molested women, and all of these sorts of events were, in fact, consensual activities, and I was just a guy who’d been brought up, in part, of a detrimental nature, to have given me this sort of psychotic abandon and sense of entitlement of inappropriateness. So I did this sort of thing, many years ago, back in my youth. I don’t talk much to guys, so I don’t really know how prevalent this agreement of seeking and discovering a prostitute, for patronage, actually happens. Much of what I hear is conjecture, simply put.
I just feed the sparrows. I won’t deny that resonance warfare tactics exist, and I also wouldn’t quite suppose that people “don’t” commonly hear voices in their head, and I’d somewhat believe that people do establish face to f1ce relationships, perhaps sometimes, only, based on positive affirmations and positive conditioning that occurs, as a consequence of having been coddled, by what amounts to a support mechanism, of the intelligence community, that transpires, whereas I feel that the excuse is that we’re shy around each other, and perhaps not ready to really take the plunge, whereas more bold men, better for it, for a moment, or for a more long-term outset about things, are the ones who gain inroads in to establishing romantic relationships at this point in time, and so far. I feel that it’s well enough if I get people to acknowledge me and smile, perhaps, and it boosts my self esteem a little, when that happens. A truly serendipitous occasion, or opportunity, is a much more rare thing, although it more typically winds up in producing a long-term relationship, more fruitfully, and surely so, whereas I can imagine that it’s difficult to convince someone to not continue forth in life, as a prostitute. It’s awrr rawr rough and tough, not being a prostitute, I imagine.
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.
Sunday, October 17
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 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]
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 |
Manchester at Harvard - Happy Fish Market | Ralph’s |
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.
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.”
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.
These developments,
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).
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.
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.
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