In the last 5 years Downtown Los Angeles –from the food and nightlife to the people and its eccentric sense of community –has gone through some pretty radical renovations that have definitely fortified its inherently bizarre culture. Spend a few nights mingling about downtown locales and you’re bound to experience a few of its idiosyncratic personalities. Types like Richard Dunkless, a curly haired, wild eyed film producer who tends to shy away from the blockbuster projects to focus on his morose passion for low-budget horror flicks, or Ricki the Pirate, a rumored-to-be 60 year old bum (though he looks not a day over 45) who has taken to social media networking (facebook, soon to be twitter) and has branded himself as the mascot of the corner on 6th and Main. You’ll see cafes packed to the brim at 2am, as if the patrons of downtown are just about to start their bustling day of stock trading and finance fraud. Except, there not business men. They’re not accountants or even publicists. They’re contemporary Bohemians. Artists. Beatniks. Vagabonds and scallywags. You’ll meet them. You’ll learn from them. They’ll scare you, it’s fine. You’ll stumble over the “after hour” sipping spots and the eateries that give you “hood prices” if you’re a local resident; or bars that allow indoor smoking after midnight. It’s the way Downtown is… besmirched in almost every way, yet somehow redeemable. I know it’s frightening, I know it’s daunting, I know it’s dangerous. But it’s also worth getting to know. And guess what else, we’re Supper Heros god damnit, so let’s get up under its shirt and do some groping around.