All personally identifying information on this site discovered utilizing resources readily available to the general public. All publicly-obtainable court documents, media reports, and any content of similar nature, provided herein or linked to were pre-published elsewhere by parties other than myself. General images along with my personal photographs are garnered via publicly accessible sources through legal means. The purpose for republishing or otherwise publicizing the information is simply to support the content contained herein.


Of Course I Want Paul Best To Be Sheriff! But I Might Be A Little Biased.

For at least the next four days Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement officer Paul J. Best can still hope to become the next Sheriff of Charlottesville. Come November 3rd, the final result will be in the hands of the area’s residents.

Mr. Best has made it a point that he’s running as an Independent. However, while the concept of his obviating affiliation with a particular party in the interest of John and Jane Q. Public seems sound in theory, it could be argued that what Mr. Best has essentially done is scorned partisan-loyal citizens while simultaneously soliciting their votes. Or has he merely tried to capitalize on a steadily growing Independent political movement?

Mr. Best’s centrism aside, in addition to ensuring agency accreditation and creating openings for volunteers, the candidate, if elected, also intends to put a Gang Reduction and Intervention Program (GRIP) into place. Mr. Best has publicly stated the gang program is “highly successful” and even ties it to the city of Richmond’s reduced danger rate, but in a conversation I had with him about local youth he said the following:
Detective Best: All these young kids -- a matter of time, but eventually their time comes. Few people slip by.

And whether they don’t -- they get by us -- it’s their rival gang member, or drug dealer, that ends up having a beef with them, they get shot and killed by them. It’s, it’s, it’s kind of like a cycle that’s just not ending. We dealt with their parents, now we’re dealing with their kids. And it just keeps going.

Me: I mean you don’t think you’re -- you’re going to change that do you?

Detective Best: You’re not, no. You’re not.

I mean, you look at these people and you just -- they live too much for today. They don’t think about the future. They don’t think where they want to go, how they would want their life to go or end up. They want to get married, one day, and have a family but -- you know, it’s not about that. But they end up with a family and then they don’t know what to do with them and they don’t do the right things with them. You know? And they’re seventeen years old! And they’ve got their third kid already! You know? And they’ve got their third kid, but they’re no longer with the mother. Or they’ve got a kid here with this one, a kid there with that one, a kid there with that one.


It’s, it’s, it’s really sad.

(Audio here)

If Mr. Best doesn’t believe things can be changed for the very people a program like GRIP targets, why has he been advocating GRIP for Charlottesville?

Frankly it’s hard to conceive of anyone who’s pursuing election to a position of power not engaging in the kind of shady strategies for personal gain that typically abound in such campaigns. To be fair though, a contender may be simply na├»ve rather than intentionally deceptive. Unfortunately neither of those attributes make for a good Sheriff.


NOTEriety T2O22 YeR

Brian O’Donnell aka Longhead constantly used to tell me I should write things down so I’d remember them. Occasionally others have told me the same. It’s always seemed like good advice whenever I’ve heard it, but for most of my life it’s a suggestion I’ve largely ignored. Until I started the JADE Project, that is.

There was just too much going on with the Task Force for me to not take notes and I soon learned the wild strategy of record-keeping in ink came in quite handy. When my scribbles turned out to be a key factor in the way I identified which Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement officer was John Baber and which was Jon McKay? Awesomesauce!

However, while I very much thought about things like simplicity and protecting the content itself, what I didn’t consider was how my, uh, unique stenography would look overall if anyone else laid eyes on it. Until I got my seized notebooks back from the Virginia State Police, that is.

Ostensibly incongruous words, initials in CAPS, letter/number combinations, loops lines and arrows -- all serve to remind me of something:

But to other viewers, especially ones who’ve already made up their minds I’m a lunatic, ya know pages with little-to-no intelligible meaning really don’t do anything to dispel their notion my clock’s missing its cuckoo. That’s all the more side-splitting when I’m aware that annotations jotted by JADE guys are assuredly not a good deal better:



This past Thursday, October 22, I got back (most of) my property that was seized by the Virginia State Police three months ago.

I’ll spin out an in-depth report on it later; consider this a condensed edition.

I met with VSP Special Agent Jason Trent at my attorney’s office in Charlottesville. Because, apparently, if Mr. Trent has contact with me, it’s A-OK, but if I have contact with him, it’s criminal. The statuesque officer had no problem being antagonistic about that, and by the end of our interaction I was highly exasperated with him. In addition to his cocky -- and might I say unwise? -- gloating, I had to endure his scoffs and denials about missing items, one of which was a memory card conspicuously absent from my camera. The object was eventually recovered after Mr. Trent got in touch with a mysterious Mike Monroe and conversed with another person or two besides.

I assume Mr. Monroe’s name and number aren’t a secret, and that he doesn’t care if they’re given out, since Agent Trent rattled both off aloud right in front of me, a person who’s known to often procure and sometimes divulge such information.

Anyhoo, I’m pleased that my home computer has been returned, albeit covered in weird, red “evidence” tape and white labels.

It seems every time anyone in law enforcement did anything with it, they slapped on a new icky sticky strip and initialed it. With a dang Sharpie!

My laptop was not spared the wrath of the everlasting black marker either.

Fortunately, the fact that the tags on the tower contain interesting pieces of information make up for the permanent scribbles.

Why, yes, that M P Monroe signature did catch my eye. But only because SA Trent drew my attention to it.

It so happens that Michael P. Monroe has received computer forensic training from the FBI, the NW3C, and numerous others, and has been involved for years in computer evidence recovery.

Very cool.


JADE Press Release

On Wednesday, October 21, 2009 at 4:30 P.M., JADE and the WASP [WASSP] Task Force (Waynesboro, Augusta County, [Staunton] and Virginia [sic] State Police) conducted a buy-bust operation on Cove Garden Road in Albemarle County. Authorities arrested Claudio Morales Rodriguez, age 39 of North Garden, after seizing approximately 125 grams of methamphetamine (Ice), with a street value of $4,500.00. Rodriquez was charged with possession of methamphetamine with the intent to distribute (F) and is being held at the Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail without bond.

On Thursday, October 22, 2009 at 1:50 P.M., JADE, with the assistance of the Albemarle County Police Department, the Charlottesville Police Department, the Virginia State Police, and the U.S. Marshals Service, conducted another buy-bust operation in the 2200 block of Barracks Road in the City of Charlottesville. This was the culmination of a month long investigation and resulted in the arrest of Carlos Wilfredo Garcia Sanchez, 38 of Charlottesville, charged him with possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute (F) and possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute within 1000 feet of a school zone (F), and is being held without bond at the Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail. Authorities seized over 500 grams of cocaine from Sanchez, with a street value of $14,000.00.

Later in the afternoon, at approximately 4:00 P.M., JADE conducted another operation, which was the culmination of a two month long investigation. The operation began in the Charlottesville area, and after one hour of surveillance, four individuals were arrested in Nelson County for possession of approximately 268 grams of cocaine with the intent to distribute. The four individuals arrested were Juan Miguel Cubas, age 24, Bayron Diaz, age 30, Jonas Eberardo Moradel, age 25, and Fernando Carmonma Pacheo, age 36. Cubas and Moradel are residents of Albemarle County. Diaz is a resident of Richmond, VA, and Pacheo is a resident of Nelson County. Cubas was released on a $3000.00 bond, and the other three were held without bond pending hearings in the Nelson County General District Court. The Nelson County Sheriff's Department, Virginia State Police, the U.S. Marshals Service, and the Albemarle County Police Department assisted in this operation. This is an on-going investigation and further charges are pending.

(6 men held in undercover drug buys)


ix-Nay on the ADE-Jay

I told y’all that Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement’s big-time role in this would eventually be swept under the rug. Can’t really blame C’ville for not wanting people to know their well-funded JADE task force couldn’t tell the difference between a Meth lab and a Chem major’s pad.
Sentence of Former UVA Student Deferred
Posted: Oct 21, 2009 10:19 PM EDT
Updated: Oct 22, 2009 2:51 PM EDT

A former University of Virginia student who pleaded guilty to illegally possessing amphetamines had his sentencing deferred Wednesday afternoon.

The court placed 20-year-old Ian Diner on probation and will revisit his case next October.

In March 2009, police and HAZMAT teams were called to Diner's apartment on 14th Street, worried about an illegal drug lab.

The Hook doesn’t mention the Task Force by name in their piece about Diner either, although, to be fair, the local rag hasn’t been very pro-JADE -- especially recently -- and their headline “Illegal student chemist gets a pass” is a little clumsy (it’s not the student chemist that’s illegal) but otherwise it’s worth a read.

Forecast: Mostly Clear With A Slight Chance Of Raid (Part 1)

Rap rap rap.

The sharp noise penetrated through sleep into my brain. It sounded like a wedding ring, or a house key, being harshly tapped on glass. Realizing the striking had come at a door that gets almost no use my eyes snapped open. Uh-oh. They’re here.

For the last week I’d been expecting a member of law enforcement to come and arrest me. I’d even called the nearby Sheriff’s office a day ago to find out if there was a warrant for me, figuring, if there was, I wanted to get it taken care of ASAP.

I snatched up my cell phone, flipped it open, and, through blurry eyes, checked the time. Does that say 5:30? Ugh! I’d drifted off at around 1:30AM, and my alarm had woken me at 3:30AM. I’d intentionally set it for then -- I’d had plans to meet up with someone in the early hours -- but I was too fatigued to rise when it’d gone off. As I scrambled out of bed pre-dawn I wished I’d ignored my body’s screams for rest like I usually do.

Considering the criminal charge I knew I’d be facing was non-violent, a surprise seizure by police wasn’t really what I’d envisioned. Obviously, or I would’ve been wearing decent garments rather than just a Pink tank and panties.

Careful not to give away my presence, I quickly edged over to the door to assess the situation. I peered out at various angles through tiny spaces in the blinds over the transparent pane and determined one person was on the other side. Definitely an officer. Male. Large male. In Kevlar. In Kevlar?! Wait; why is he in BDU?

Zapped with a bolt of adrenaline I jerked my face away from the door fast and pressed myself against the wall. Heart frantic, I peeked through the side of the slats to see if he had his weapon drawn. I picked up the voices of more men outside and concluded they belonged to two distinct shadows moving in the background. By the shape of them I could tell each of those fellows too was decked out in a bullet-proof vest and armed. Three guys? Oh my God. So much for what I’d anticipated: one, nice, local cop coming out to handle this.

They sent three guys. Why? Why in the world would they do that? The severity of the matter was sinking in. I’d be entirely at the mercy of the badged. I’m gonna end up getting shot here! Do I open the door? Do I not open the door? Oh-my-God-whadda-I-do?

Studies have shown that a person in traumatic conditions will often get fixated on irrelevant or odd things. The same can happen when someone recalls a harrowing experience. For example, a rape victim may seem to care more about the earring she lost during the assault than the attack itself. A homeowner about to shoot a burglar might start wondering if he accidentally locked his keys in his car. Said person might also do irrelevant or odd things. These unproductive attempts to cope of course make no sense to others but make absolute sense to the distressed individual. I mention this because...

Well they haven’t smashed in the door yet. I should brush my teeth. Get dressed. I don’t want anyone to see me lookin’ like I just fell outta hell. And I need to have a cup of coffee.

Headed for the bathroom, I opened my bedroom door. The house has an unusual floor plan, so, from where I was downstairs, I could see out certain windows without anyone on the opposite side of them seeing in. I tiptoed around and counted three more gun carriers. I guess at that point I was in shock because I was not shocked by my growing count of them, or by the fact that they’d wholly surrounded the residence. Three? Six? Fifteen? Pfft -- what’s the difference?

I grabbed deodorant, ran a comb through my hair. Hmm... what does one wear for a takedown anyway? While debating the answer, I remembered some JADE and JADE-related paraphernalia I had in my possession. Normally Boomslang holds on to such material for safekeeping but the past few days had been hectic and he and I kept missing each other. Most of what I’d newly acquired and wanted him to protect was still in my car, but a few items were stacked neatly on my computer chair. Darn it! There has to be some way to save that stuff. I rushed back to the other room to calculate how. Should I wear pants, or a skirt?

Rap Rap Rap.

Same peculiar knock, at a greater decibel. Accompanied vaguely by distant pounding elsewhere. Why haven’t they busted the door down? There were audible conversations coming from the porch and yard but, even with my dog-like hearing ability, I couldn’t distinguish what, exactly, was being said. Momentary silence. Subsequent aggressive thudding. It’s not like I could hear, for sure, the blows being delivered at each entrance but I gathered they must’ve been hitting all four of them. I can’t believe they sent like a TAC team after me. For a non-violent crime. I don’t even have a history of violence!

I scooped up some of the Task Force junk I hoped to salvage and slid it between the trash bin liner and the garbage can itself, and rapidly tucked case sheets and copies of email exchanges into the jacket of a large book about police equipment. T- or button-down shirt?

What is that -- ringing? It was the telephone upstairs. Are they calling the house now? It wasn’t like anyone else would be trying to touch base with me at sunrise on that line. I’m not answering the door but they think I’m going to answer the phone? Is this, like, hostage negotiations without a hostage? Do they think I have a hostage? That could explain why the door is still intact. Oh no! What if they try my cell next? They’ll hear it ring. I don’t want them to hear it ring. I don’t want them to know where to fire. I leaped towards the table the device was resting on and ripped the object from its charger. With a push of a button I set it to vibrate only. I dropped the thing on a blanket. My hands were shaking. Twice I balled them up tight and released them. I can’t let these people find out I’m frightened. Never let ‘em see you sweat -- good motto.

The pummeling from beyond had paused and resumed. If the increased racket was anything to go by, their fists were not just colliding with doors anymore; they’d taken on windows also. I had no idea how much time had truly passed since they’d arrived, but I was guessing mine was about up. I couldn’t think. Think! They ultimately added shouting on top of everything else, but their words were unclear to me. “Police,” maybe? Yeah, nooooo kidding.

I was still in my hipsters. Seriously you need to put some clothes on. I tugged on skinny jeans and wrangled into a long-sleeve plain white Henley. Being outfitted melted my method of “coping” and my mind returned to anxiety over what to do. If I wasn’t sure about opening the door before, I sure as hell thought it would be a huge mistake to do it right then.

Nothing I’d done justified this level of treatment by law enforcement. Not to mention the fear it instigated in me. The officers present could’ve racked me full of metal, afterwards claimed I’d made a threatening move at them, and they’d have been exonerated by lunch. Think I’m exaggerating? Worried for no reason? I’ve witnessed less members of JADE going after a pair of 9mil-totin’ drug-dealin’ convicts.

At that moment I turned to the only source I had to document the event as it occurred: I HeArTE JADE. Stomps of hardcore footwear overhead signaled the raiding team had finally crossed the threshold. I signed in with mere seconds left, typed out 19 characters and clicked “publish post.”

I sat on the bed, gradually brought my upper lashes to my lower ones, and held my breath waiting for whatever was coming next.

(Continued here)


Summer News

July 2009

An undercover drug sting netted $9,000 worth of coke and a felony arrest, police reported Friday.

Members of the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force and the Albemarle police conducted the bust Thursday on Wilton Pasture Lane. They seized approximately 90 grams of coke and $696.

Layton Dabney Jr. was charged with possession of cocaine with intent to distribute, according to JADE.

Additional arrests and charges are expected.



Buck Me Baby!

I’ve put a new image on the site. No, no, it’s not of a JADE officer. Adding that now would be, like, illegal, yo! No, it’s a PayPal button. See it -- over there, in the right sidebar? Yeah, I’ve heard that there are, for realiously, people out there who’d be happy to donate funds to help me pay off the court fees n stuff I’ve incurred for my Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement activities. Something about advocates of Free Speech and Civil Rights? ‘Course I’ve also heard that I’m a 300 pound lesbian whose had sex with the entire Task Force in exchange for the Meth I’m now hooked on... so, I dunno how much I believe the former assertion.


“Conditioned On The Following Conditions”

I was thinking about the future content of I HeArTE JADE. As I earlier expressed, I’ve lots of narrative in me. This is essentially the only place where I have a voice and, as importantly, control over my words. (I’ll go into details eventually but suffice it to say for now, my experience with the mainstream -- and even the offstream -- media has been at best disheartening and at worst infuriating.) That being said, though the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force and their do-girls didn’t succeed in taking out the site, they have crippled it. Due to the plea agreement that I accepted, forthcoming posts will have to be tempered. The conditions are:

a) No contact, direct or indirect, with JADE officers or VSP Special Agent Jason Trent and their immediate families. Prohibited means of contact include, without being limited to, oral, written email, following, or by conducting surveillance by any means.

b) Cease and desist from being physically present at, in, or around any JADE-conducted law enforcement activity.

c) Remain off [and] away from the premises of JADE and not approach within 300 yards of such premises.

d) Remain off and away from the residences of JADE officers and VSP Special Agent Jason Trent and not approach within 300 yards of such residences.

e) Do not publish by any means the picture and/or residential address of JADE officers, VSP Special Agent Jason Trent or their immediate families.

f) Two years of good behavior.
Naturally I see tremendous potential for whimsical mockery as it’s written -- may take a crack at that later -- and in less than 30 seconds whipped up an equal number of loopholes to get around the restrictions if I wanted to. (And since I know there’s at minimum two of you foaming at the mouth about the deviousness of my thinking up ways to foil legal bindings, first read this, then check out the plethora of police officers who thwart the Supreme Court ruling. There’s plenty of them.)

The point is these restraints do limit me and I want readers to know why there may be a noticeable difference in my entries. A post like Good Morning, Special Agent Trent!, if published today, might break rule “a)” as would putting up a picture of wanna-be-Sheriff Paul Best violate “e)” even if the image was taken months ago.

I’m certainly capable of being good. I do have to ask though: with me not blogging freely anymore, how are they going to know what I’m up to? At least before they had some semblance of my activities. Now they’ll have none.


For Those Of Us Who Can Read:


Return Of The JADE-I

Though the entry prior to this one was intended to be somewhat a dramatic cliffhanger, I had not an inkling as I typed it out -- to the raining thuds of boots of raiding officers entering the house -- that it would be quite literally months before I’d be back to continue the I HeArTE JADE saga.

Oh, the stories I have to tell! About the raid, about my incarceration. About reporters and media coverage. About plea agreements, and prosecutors who weasel out of keeping their end of the bargain.

That stuff, and more, will likely work its way out, post by post, in due time. For now I only have a few things to mention in brief.

My bond was not, as the Washington Post reported, $750.00. It was $7500.00. Both amounts are absurd.

Today is the first day since my arrest I’ve been legally permitted to use a computer. Being told you had 75,000 site visitors just in the first week alone of August is not the same as seeing the evidence of it yourself. Although s-e-v-e-n-t-y f-i-v-e thousand hits over a mere few days was still impressive to hear about. Being deprived of Internet access has been like mental jail for me. I will be sleepless for the next four days scarfing up as much online information as I can without my brain bursting. News, recipes, weather, the lost art of the fire service...

Today is the first day since my arrest I’ve been legally permitted to contact law enforcement. The delightfully handsome and getting-smarter-by-the-second county cop, JumpOut, and I will have to start meeting elsewhere since our regular location unfortunately falls within a 300 yard restriction I’m now eternally under.

I pleaded guilty to two counts of obstruction of justice. As a nobody, a someone who’ll never amount to anything, having a couple of misdemeanor charges on my record doesn’t have much of an affect on my life. Every day I will wake up being that same nobody, that same purposeless someone. But at least I will not be waking up in jail.

One of the terms -- out of a slew and a half of them -- is that I remove “the photograph of the JADE officer’s home and his address which resulted in the County charge.” I had no problem agreeing to do that, much like I had no problem pointing out that both the image and the address can be found on the county’s own website. Anyway, I’ve officially complied.

I guess that’s it at the moment.

Gosh, I feel like I’m forgetting something important.

Huh. Never mind. It’ll come to me eventually.