I'm pretty sure that I lived over a government or criminal underground base. Watdo?

a reply to: ukgaz

Well, to be honest the opinion I put together was that it's either a vent for a deeper underground structure, or it's some kind of underground server farm because of all the networks that eminated from that point. The 'heat bloom' is roughly a slightly less than 1 square meter area.

a reply to: Hecate666

The street view was taken a few years ago. The warehouse I'm describing was put up in december of last year. You'll have to go there to see it, or wait until Google gets around to shoot the area again.

The Setting
While developing technologies to accelerate the maturation of distilled spirits for Generic vodka company in Honolulu, OP’s innate senses that something wasn’t right began to flare up with a high degree of intensity. He had noticed over the his months working at the company that the incongruity of this company’s operational methods, when compared to legitimate businesses, was becoming such that it no longer was reasonable to believe that his role was a simple matter of exchange of services for compensation. No, clearly there was more to this situation than the purported ‘reality’ that was increasingly becoming logically impossible. The cast of characters that OP had come to know and interact with at this small farm located at 'the location' in Hawaii Kai consisted of the bealiased 50 something owner of the company, one ‘ Fred Flintstone’, his supposed live-in houskeeper ‘Veronique’, and Fred’s 23 year old stripper girlfriend ‘Honey Mustard’ living in the 4 bedroom ranch house at the top terrace of the property. The 51 year old Stanley Sprocket , local yokel lifetime Hawaii Kai resident with a suspiciously thick pidgin accent occupied the terrace below in his duplex apartment that was directly adjacent to the space that OP occupied. A decades old concrete pad and a peculiarly over-engineered newly-built shed with pulley operable storm windows that faced the street and lower terrace levels completed the level on which Stanley Sprocket and OP resided. Below that was the cane field that OP learned to plant and maintain, with another terrace below on which the steel frame tasting room building that he learned to build and subsequently constructed was located. On the lowest terrace of the property was the 4200 square foot distillery building, which he also built with Stanley Sprocket and Fred Flintstone. imgur.com...


For the first 6 months OP worked and resided on the property, the many delays in construction and permitting the company experienced were punctuated with assignment after assignment of what increasingly appeared to be ‘busy’ assignments coming from Fred Flintstone. After months of observing these delays, and noting that immediately preceding each delay was a curious mandate from Fred Flintstone, it became clear that no real business could survive for the absurdly-long 2 years post-deadline that Generic vodka company had somehow managed. It was then that OP began to resurrect the social engineering skills that he developed in India to find out what really was going on. Details of the operation that previously had been chocked off as ‘Hawaii-style’ business were now under the light of critical scrutiny and were subjected to continuity testing by op.

The friendship of live-in handyman Stanley Sprocket with the preeminent crystal methamphetamine dealer on the eastern part of Oahu, which had previously been viewed in isolation to the overall operation of the ‘legitimate distillery’ was now in question, as was Fred Flintstone’s tolerance of the foot traffic generated by the dozen or so individuals that frequented Stanley Sprocket’s apartment to presumably resupply their holdings.

Pferder’s Roosters
So too was the presence of dozens of roosters on the property of neighboring property owner James Pferder, Golf Cart sales mogul of the state of Hawaii. The extremely high degree of activity of these roosters, which previously had been attributed to their feral origins was increasingly starting to appear to resemble what one would expect from a meticulously-controlled breeding program of stud cockfighting roosters. When the all-night crowing of these nuisance animals reached the point where OP’s ability to sleep had effectively been taken from him, he responded by developing a program of targeted assassination of the most dominant and correspondingly-noisy males. He noted the characteristics of these individuals, and took notes on the particular trees in which they roosted. He recorded the specific tufts of branches and leaves in which each code-named individual preferred to roost in drawings of their night-time habitats. He used his skills that he developed building and customizing AR-platform sporting rifles to zero a 22-caliber nitro piston pellet rifle with variable 3-9x and multi-range focus optic to ensure that he could cull these individuals without broadcasting unnecessary reports to the highly protective Pferder. He researched the anatomy of the rooster to discover that at the ft-lbs of impact force and projectile velocity that his pellet rifle was capable of transmitting, only the region between the top of the eye and the transverse line between the lower comb and back of neck would generate a one-shot kill. He also improvised a body retrieval system from 550-cord and a scrap piece of 12 foot long tube steel that was on the property to prevent Mr. Pferder from knowing who was taking his beloved birds.

The covert cull went unabated until one night the alpha male of the property took a well aimed shot, fell from the tree, and before collapsing ran 10 feet from the place he fell, just outside of any possible retrieval. Given the coverage of Pferder’s infrared surveillance camera array (which OP was able to observe with his seek thermal imaging device for his phone) and his extremely vicious rottweiler triplets, a personal extraction of the bird was impossible. OP awoke the very next day to the sound of Pferder’s supercharged golf cart going up the driveway and the sound of 3 belligerent hawaiians and Pferder promising to cave in the skull of the distiller that took his birds from him. Surveilling the conversation between Fred Flintstone and Pferder, OP noted a striking quotation that proved that those bird were not simply beloved pets, but the source of something criminally-lucrative in nature: “Fred, he can never be able to understand what he’s taken from us”.

It was shortly after this event that the events at ‘the asylum’, as it came to be known, took a turn toward the horrific and unreal.

The Networks
OP had long suspected that he was being surveilled, if only by ‘gut feeling’. He had always suspected that the antennae hanging out of the ceiling fans in his apartment seemed both unusually long and unusually thick gauge for the frequencies upon which these kinds of devices are supposed to operate. When he disassembled the fans, he found what looked like a normal remote control signal receiver housing. Clearly there weren’t any cameras being used, if any surveillance was being conducted by this device at all. The next step that he decided to take was to take some spare fishing lead that was lying around, and hammer it into a taquito shape to see if these antennae, when completely shrouded by lead with the end pinched and folded, would impair the function of the remote control on the operation of the fan. Care was taken to ensure that the entire antenna wire and the line of sight to the soldered connection was obscured by the lead shroud. The remote was operated and to OP’s surprise, the ability of the remote to control the fan had not been impeded in the slightest. It was after this test that he inspected the circuit board more closely and noticed that not only was the soldered connection to the antenna much more robustly-filled, it seemed to be a different kind of solder (at least as indicated by coloration) as the other connections on the board.

It was after this test that he inspected the circuit board more closely and noticed that not only was the soldered connection to the antenna much more robustly-filled, it seemed to be a different kind of solder (at least as indicated by coloration) as the other connections on the board. He also noticed that there was a smaller board glued to the main board in a perpendicular direction. Not being an expert on fan electronics, he decided to look up the model number of the fan, a harbor breeze, and look up the remote reciever part number listed in the manual. He then searched the part number in both amazon, ebay, and a couple third party sites. Amazon did not have close ups of the circuit boards, but the housing was a confirmed match. The antenna did not have the same end cap, that the ones in his apartment, however. Upon scrutinizing the pictures on ebay listings a couple examples of the proper component with the right housing were found. The antenna did not match, and the additional board on the perpendicular was not a part of the circuitry as shown, although it was connected to the part on the board where the antenna was soldered in the ebay picture. The board was also soldered onto another connection on the board. There was a screw covered in glue that appeared to be a frequency control knob and there appeared to be a contact point for a frequency tester to be placed. It was at this moment that he used his soldering iron to heat the antenna connection and pull the antenna off the board. Curiously, the remote control for the fan still worked.

It was immediately after this experience that OP began to look at the wireless networks that were detectable by his computer and his phone. He had always noticed that there were a few networks that seemed to be ‘rogue’ in that they had low signal strength, but they did not appear at the edges of the property as one would expect for a neighbor network and could not be accounted for in terms of the company network devices that he had frequently had to log into in order to keep the company network working for he and his neighbor, the live in handyman. We'll call him 'Stanley Sprocket'. Perhaps it was just coincidental timing, or the fact that he replaced his HTC one m8 handset with a samsung galaxy S6 Edge Plus, but shortly after the fan episode, he observed that the number of these ‘rogue’ networks increased from the usual 2-3, up to 25-30 individual network SSID’s showing up on his phone toward the front door of his apartment. Toward the back of the unit the signal strength weakened for these networks, but their SSID’s all continued to be visible. This new development appeared significant, so he decided that more powerful analytical tools were needed. He did some research and downloaded ‘wifi analyzer’ for android phones. With this new software, he was amazed that he could very easily zero in on the point location where signal strength peaked for each network. He started by testing it on known devices, and the closer he got to his router, and range extender, the higher their signal strength reported in -db values. The software appeared to be reporting results accurately. Next he wanted to find where all these networks were located. Suspecting that they were each a part of an array of surveillance devices, he selected an individual network SSID and set out to find it’s point location for peak signal strength. Using the beeping signal indicator function, he walked outside and did circles around his terrace level and the level below, hoping to get a directional signal of where it was coming from. Oddly, the signal strength didn’t get stronger as he walked the perimeter. It got weaker as the distance from his door increased, as the terraces are rectangular and he wasn’t walking a true circle. This decidedly creeped him out, but what really confused him was that he noticed that the SSID of the network that he selected had changed from ‘sweetie network’ to ‘Drathlos-Gast’. He recalled from his year of german at UW that ‘Drathlos’ means wireless and ‘gast’ means ‘guest’, so either this device was a german router or it wanted to look like one. This ‘micro’ view of a single network didn’t seem to be doing him any good, and was posing more questions than it was answering, so he switched back to the ‘multi-network’ view mode. He started zeroing in on the peak signal strength location of this ‘Drathlos-Gast’ network, and was rather shocked to see that all of these newly-visible, low-signal strength networks all had exactly the same signal strength. What also was immediately apparent was that not only did these networks all have exactly the same signal strength, but they also quite obviously covered the entire 2.4G wifi spectrum equally covering channels 1-6, and channels 8-15. Very suspiciously, the Generic vodka company company network, which was the highest signal strength network of the scannable spectrum, bridged the gap from about 5 to 10. The piece de resistance was the fact that the ebbing of the signal strengths of all from scan to scan could be described as: the peaks of the low strength rogue networks corresponded to the valleys of the ‘Generic vodka company’ company network. To OP, who was a novice to this kind of inquiry, it intuitively seemed obvious that these rogue networks were communicating with the “Generic vodka company” network and vice versa. The final detail and certainly the creepiest part of this entire networking matter, was the fact that the point location of peak signal strength was on top of the concrete pad outside of OP’s apartment on his same terrace level; approximately 5 feet from the edge of the pad and the downslope toward the lower terrace level.
Naturally, OP took out his ‘Seek Thermal’ imaging camera and fired up the app and took a look. Shockingly but unsurprisingly, the temperature of the point location of peak signal strength was 115 degrees fahrenheit and the rest of the pad from about 2 feet outwards from that spot was the ambient temperature of about 78 degrees F at that time.

“Kieran”
Among live-in handyman Stanley Sprocket’ revolving cast of meth characters was his ‘high school best friend’ Kieran. Kieran and OP hit it off rather quickly because of their mutual love for a strong tipple and for sport shooting. They had long conversations about the 1911 platform, and all kinds of firearms in general. Kieran purported to be a safety class instructor at the local Koko Head Shooting Complex, and over the course of the 9 months OP lived at 'the location', had demonstrably proven himself to be a lush, a pill junkie, and a chronic crystal methamphetamine smoker. He had also proven himself to be a world class bull#ter and could literally talk about a mixture of nothing and his past sexual conquests for hours on end.
At the time that OP began to question the validity of the identities of everyone on the property (except himself, of course) he began to implement what he called ‘continuity’ testing for each individual there. One night when Kieran and Stanley Sprocket were blowing much white vapor and annoying the # out of OP, he started asking questions about factual background information about their relationship. He dug deeper into the nature of their relationship, as they had never qualified it beyond ‘we were high school buddies’.

This had always puzzled OP, because Kieran appeared to be no older than in his early forties, and Stanley Sprocket had talked prolifically about his 51st birthday and how he didn’t know how he had survived to see such a ripe old age. Given Kieran’s penchant for hard drugs and no sleep, it seemed reasonable that OP’s age estimate could be relied upon as a top-end limit for obvious reasons. He couldn’t be coaxed to say his age, but since his economic status clearly didn’t provide for the possibility of plastic surgery and his age being at most 44, then the story of him being high school buddies with Stanley Sprocket (51) clearly had to be bull#. After Kieran went home on his moped, OP asked Stanley whether Kieran and he had been hanging out consistently for all these years. Stanley affirmed this, and said that he wishes that he could get rid of ‘that mahu’.

When the time in which OP was discovering the plentiful low signal strength wifi networks that were point-located below the concrete pad in front of his house, he figured he would continue the continuity testing. He devised a test where he would start texting Kieran to see if he wanted to ‘hit the town and get #ed up when OP finally received his next paycheck’. A rapidly-paced text message conversation ensued. A rate of response was established to be less than 10 seconds from outgoing message to incoming response. After about 10 exchanges at this rate and without closing the conversation, OP had observed that Stanley was working on the lowest level of the property and left his cell phone in his car, right outside op’s front window and was missing calls, so he snuck in the following:

“Hey, this is off topic, but have you and Stanley been hanging out consistently for years, or did you guys end up drifting apart for a bit and then reconnect?”

Total silence. The pattern of communication had demonstrably been broken by the off topic inquiry. Expectedly, OP heard the audible tones of multiple text messages coming from Stanley’s phone on the driver’s seat. After about 15 minutes OP sent another message:

“Stanley not getting back to you on that continuity check?”

“Woah! That was way over my head. Lets most def hit the town this weekend though” Replied Kieran.

op replied, “Fo sho brah, but I was curious about that question because I wanted to talk to Stanley about how he’s been a dick to you lately and thought I’d say you shouldn’t treat your lifelong pals like that.”

“Oh, don’t do that. I was kicking it with other people for years and years until we reconnected a few years ago.’.

Cover blown. OP had come to suspect by then that Stanley was not the luddite that he purported to be for a number of reasons, but these two supposed best friends had just failed the most basic continuity check as to the character of their relationship. It would seem that after months and months of deep cover, the ‘story’ and it’s incongruities were becoming too complicated to maintain, at least for Stanley and Kieran (In the interest of brevity other continuity failures have been excluded from this report).
Without confronting either Stanley or Kieran, op continued to text Kieran. He asked what Kieran was doing that same night.
“Ho! It’s walking dead night! My girl and I are going to kick back and check it out. Should be killer one.” He fired back almost immediately.
OP told him to ‘have a good one’ and signed off from the exchange of texts.

and thread has jumped the shark

a reply to: ignorant_ape

Shill identified!

a reply to: voiceoreason

Holy hell dude. I just saw your original post being referenced on Reddit to pizzagate. Crazy that no one believes you on here but it was proven that Island Distillers and Dave Flinstone is linked back to the Clintons and the pedophile sex ring!! What's the update on this? A dude on pizzagate wants to explore the property, maybe you guys can hook up.

If we have any engineers out there, please give me a response if this is normal construction or not. We have a fairly new big shopping center in our area. Big chain stores and a supermarket with s string of shops in one separate section and free standing banks and restaurants. The area is prone to sinkholes in the parking lot. One section at the far end had a big one probably 15 deep and 20 feet across. Another on the upper end had an even bigger one. That's the one I was looking at. They dug it out, maybe 60 feet by sixty feet section, about 10 feet down. They had a barrier fence around it but you could look through gaps so it snot like it was highly secret. But instead of laying down new concrete pipes and drains to correct the erosion problem, they did something else. They put bunkers down there, maybe 4 across and three or four deep. Square ones about 8 feet wide by maybe 8 feet high. Maybe 10 by 10. linked together. So now under the parking lot are these vaults. I thought maybe another business would go in that section of the parking lot and that was the foundation for it but nothing has been done several months later. There's no discernible entrances or access to the underground vaults. So are these water tight or meant to hold rainwater like a cistern or what exactly?

Well, if you go public make sure you have extra info you don't release...rig up a dead man's switch to the info. Let it be known you have one. Hide bits and pieces of information on micro SD cards in random public locations where there are a lot of people. They're tiny and electrical tape can affix them well up underneath and behind things. When you do go public, go public as loud as you can to as many people as possible.

originally posted by: voiceoreason
a reply to: ignorant_ape

Shill identified!

Bingo. 12 years and going strong.