This happened two days ago, now, so on Thursday, June 3, 2022, at around 10:30 in the morning. I parked by the canal in Chinatown to go get char siu bao buns at Royal Kitchen. On the walk back to the car, I came upon a Toyota van, white, perhaps ten years old, maybe 15. Clean, though. Hawaii plates.
As I approached, the first thing I noticed was a luminous green “Biohazard” license plate or placard, sitting on the dash, on the driver’s side, positioned so it read correctly to one viewing from the outside.
I thought “what? Some Deadheads putting that there for the purpose of ironic humor?” Yet there was no junk in the van, no clutter. I thought “these people are not living in this van”.
Both sliding side doors of the van are open. There are a bunch of people around the van. I think “family going somewhere?”
Now I’m at the side of the van, strolling by. The middle seat has been removed. Inside, sitting on the rear seat, is a very large she-man, a definitive transsexual, in a strapless sundress, with dark brown, could have been black-contact-lens eyes, dyed blonde hair. Had to have been 200 pounds. To my shock and surprise, this person was glaring at me hatefully, right in the eyes. I did not react. I kept walking. When I told a friend of mine this story, he instantly said “Jabba the slut!”
My car was parked two places behind the Toyota van under discussion. I got in, and made a show of turning on the car, turning on the radio, busily getting ready to leave. But then I started looking out the windows absently, then settled into a “I’ll take a quick nap in the car” pose, while all the while watching the scene from under lidded eyes. Sure enough, they did not appear to know that they were being surveilled.
At the rear of the van was a caucasian male, late 40’s, early-50’s, 175 pounds, dark curly hair, red baseball cap, dark blue surgical mask. The hatch was open, and he and another caucasian male were standing under it. The other guy was not wearing a mask, and was a nondescript caucasian male who was a bit slimmer, and who was holding a smartphone.
Red hat was yammering and yammering at/to the other guy, gesturing with his hands. Not angry, but rather in charge, bossily indoctrinating the other guy into something. I gathered it was the Operation I had stumbled upon. During the yammering, the other guy took a call on his smartphone. His demeanor was flat, business-like, soldier-like.
Meanwhile, there are five other perpetrators around the van. A skinny twentysomething caucasian male with a black street-style flat-brimmed cap with the Hawaiian islands on it. Drinking a Mountain Dew. Meth-head. Grifter.
Close to him, in conversation, a twentysomething female with long, curly dyed auburn hair. Overalls.
Next to her was another late-teens, early-20’s caucasian female, dyed blonde hair with black roots, getting something from the she-man in the van, which they put in an insulated bag. Then they went to a cooler just behind them, on the sidewalk, and got ice from it, and put it in the insulated bag. She then walked away from the scene, past me, toward the thick of Chinatown, and Downtown. She walked purposefully, as if they were on a time-sensitive mission. As soon as she got the stuff, she made a call on her smartphone, and was talking on the phone as she walked purposefully past me.
Every last one of these people was flat-faced. Not smiling, not greeting one another cheerily. No hand-shakes upon meeting. No hugs. I must beg the reader to recall that I’m talking about Hawaii, so a half a dozen non-smiling, non-friendly people is something that one simply doesn’t see.
Now another girl arrives, late teens, heavily tattooed, high-top shoes, super-skimpy short shorts and cropped top. Almost prostitute level attire. Super mean, cold face. Four minutes later, another girl arrives, late-20’s, large Hawaiian female, jeans, nondescript top. She, too, is mean-looking, and scowling. They’re all hovering near the van, but ignoring one another.
It’s clear to me that they’ve been told “arrive precisely at time X”, and “don’t stand in a line, rather, hover around and give the appearance of a random assemblage of people”. “Don’t talk with one another…don’t have it be a ‘gathering’ that someone would be tempted to join.”
It took, I kid you not, twenty minutes for the first person to do their unknown biohazard business and get on their way. No money changed hands. I know because I watched them like a hawk.
The girl getting the stuff from the van was talking and talking and talking with the dark eyed, hulking shemale in the van. Then finally getting their stuff, putting ice on it, and heading off to deliver/distribute it.
It was just like the guy in the red cap talking, and talking and talking at the guy at the back of the van. He was heavily indoctrinating him, just as Jabba was giving marching orders to the person they were giving the biohazard to.
At one point earlier on, Red Hat looks right at me, looks me in the eyes. I didn’t smile, or smirk, but I instantly returned his stare and boosted him, sent him highest love energy. He just-as-instantly looked away to the side, and did not ever look back at me again - despite the fact that I was staring at him like a movie screen, from, oh, twenty feet away.
About ten minutes after the first person had gotten their unspecified biohazard from the she-man, I had to leave, having a prior commitment. I pulled forward, and drove slowly past the van. Red cap man is wearing an olive green T-shirt, and on the back, it says something nearly like “spreading health for the purpose of health spreading”. I was so gobsmacked, and it was so weird, that I didn’t get it correctly committed to memory. It was a palindrome in structure like that. I thought "somehow that palindromic structure is a Black magic spell, where saying it in reverse again at the end means it’s a double negative, so it’s about spreading death under the false guise of “spreading health”.
I told my wife about it when I got home. Despite being extremely conservative in her thinking, she could only conclude that it was foul play of some kind.
I told another friend of mine about it on Thursday, the day it happened. He laughed and said it was obviously a Black Op distributing a malefic agent of some kind, under the false guise of “spreading health for the purpose of health spreading”.
I told another friend of mine about it yesterday. When I got to the she-male, he instantly laughed and said “Jabba the Slut!”. That’s where I got the armor-piercing, click-bait title of this article.
He also concurred that it was a Black Op involving the surreptitious distribution of a malefic agent of some kind. He said “monkey pox - that’s the next thing they’re going to release on us, it’s all over the news.” He also said “you need to write this down”.
I said “yeah, and then, if bad things start happening to people on Oahu, with ground zero in Chinatown, I’ll own these clowns.”
I also said “it’s how they released AIDS in New York - on junkies and gay guys.”
The biohazard placard was official. Like “this person is officially allowed to distribute the admitted weaponized pathogen that we’re carrying in this van”.
To me, the shirt says that the front story, if questioned, would be “oh, it’s vaccines”, perhaps.
Don Croft used to love to out plots prior to their really getting rolling, because what he referred to as “the Power of Utterance” would force the perpetrators to back down, cancel their plans.
Because, as Don often said, Parasites fear exposure above all else.
Jeff Miller, Honolulu, HI, June 4, 2022
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