Sentence of Former UVA Student DeferredThe 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.
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.
Source.
20091022
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.
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)
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)
20091020
Summer News
July 2009
Source.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.
20091017
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.
20091016
“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:
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.
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.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.)
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.
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.
20091015
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.
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.
20090716
20090715
20090713
Eat, Drink, Be Merry, For Tomorrow We Dye!
Guess what? Long, hot pink tresses attracts attention. Especially in the ‘hood where JADE is located. Since choosing the shade, I have yet to make it past a Black girl without hearing I luuuuuhhvv yo’ hair color. It’s pretty obvious I’m conspicuous enough that even the Task Force Officers would notice me. I’ve not been around them -- content to stick with updating I HeArTE JADE -- but after the newly-smug-filled Special Agent Trent informed me he’d be getting an arrest warrant for me I’m figuring what the hell; in for a penny, in for a pound.
I’ve tried calling Mr. Trent to make other, agreeable, arrangements, for everyone involved, but he doesn’t answer his desk phone. Got a sweetie to give up Trent’s pager number and his cell number. Nada contact with the Special Agent. WTF? No, I mean, seriously WTF? As in SERIOUSLY WTF? Vindictiveness is so unbecoming on Law Enforcement.
What is becoming, however, is Mr. Trent’s fellow VA State Policeman Rasmussen. The man is like Fierce with a capital YUM! He even looks tough pumpin’ gas.
I fully believe they grow these BCI guys at the top of a beanstalk.
Oh, and -- on the subject of sex appeal -- just when I think Dasani can’t possibly radiate any more Testosterone, I see him roar by on his motorcycle. In jeans. And boots. With sunglasses.
Ooo La La.
Blonde. Blonde would be a good hue for me, yes?
I’ve tried calling Mr. Trent to make other, agreeable, arrangements, for everyone involved, but he doesn’t answer his desk phone. Got a sweetie to give up Trent’s pager number and his cell number. Nada contact with the Special Agent. WTF? No, I mean, seriously WTF? As in SERIOUSLY WTF? Vindictiveness is so unbecoming on Law Enforcement.
What is becoming, however, is Mr. Trent’s fellow VA State Policeman Rasmussen. The man is like Fierce with a capital YUM! He even looks tough pumpin’ gas.
I fully believe they grow these BCI guys at the top of a beanstalk.
Oh, and -- on the subject of sex appeal -- just when I think Dasani can’t possibly radiate any more Testosterone, I see him roar by on his motorcycle. In jeans. And boots. With sunglasses.
Ooo La La.
Blonde. Blonde would be a good hue for me, yes?
20090711
Dude, Where’s My Car?
July 2009
After a short low-speed car chase and foot pursuit in the Belmont area, two local residents were arrested by the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force as part of an undercover sting.More.
Authorities arrested Jeffery M. Terry and Marchella J. Alexander at about 9 p.m. Thursday, according to a news release.
Lt. Don Campbell of JADE said about seven undercover officers were performing surveillance when they tried to pull over a car. The driver, however, did not pull over and continued into a dead-end street where the passenger got out and fled on foot, Campbell said.
“When [the car] stopped the passenger hopped out with a gun and cocaine and ran,” Campbell said.
After a short pursuit, Terry was arrested and detectives seized approximately 45 grams of crack and a loaded 9 mm pistol, according to the release.
Terry, of Charlottesville, was charged with distribution of cocaine, possession of a firearm by a felon, possession of a firearm while possessing cocaine and possession of cocaine with intent to distribute.
Alexander, of Albemarle, was charged with distribution of cocaine.
Both were being held without bond and further charges were pending.
20090710
It’s Going To Give “Sex, Drugs, And Rock & Roll” A Whole New Meaning
Special Agent Jason Trent asserts, because of this entry about Dasani, I am in violation of this Virginia Code:
I deny my intent was to harass Dasani. I’m not trying to harass any of the officers. I HeArTE JADE is, and has been, a means to exhibit some of the things I’ve experienced because of my curiosity about, and interest in, the JADE Task Force.
I suppose though, when it comes to my actual motives and what I say vs what a group of Law Enforcement claim my motives are and what they feel, the latter people are all that matter.
With that in mind, I expect what will come out in court, in my defense, will still be scandalous for Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement.
§ 18.2-186.4. Use of a person’s identity with the intent to coerce, intimidate, or harass; penalty.The above is intriguing in that it seems to support what I’ve repeatedly stated: publishing pictures and other identifying information of Law Enforcement is not a crime. What is illegal -- and I knew this already -- is harassment, which is the angle the aforesaid code plays. Really what it boils down to is motivation.
It shall be unlawful for any person, with the intent to coerce, intimidate, or harass another person, to publish the person’s name or photograph along with identifying information as defined in clauses (iii) through (ix), or clause (xii) of subsection C of § 18.2-186.3, including identification of the person’s primary residence address. Any person who violates this section is guilty of a Class 1 misdemeanor.
Any person who violates this section knowing or having reason to know that person is a law-enforcement officer, as defined in § 9.1-101, is guilty of a Class 6 felony. The sentence shall include a mandatory minimum term of confinement of six months.
I deny my intent was to harass Dasani. I’m not trying to harass any of the officers. I HeArTE JADE is, and has been, a means to exhibit some of the things I’ve experienced because of my curiosity about, and interest in, the JADE Task Force.
I suppose though, when it comes to my actual motives and what I say vs what a group of Law Enforcement claim my motives are and what they feel, the latter people are all that matter.
With that in mind, I expect what will come out in court, in my defense, will still be scandalous for Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement.
20090707
You Know He’s Ticked When He Doesn’t Call You Ma’am
For weeks I’ve been mildly musing about a letter Special Agent Jason Trent gave me that’s purportedly from the JADE Task Force Command Group. Actually, it isn’t the letter itself that’s on my mind but rather the people who comprise the group -- people who enigmatically didn’t sign or otherwise provide their names on said letter. I’ve found it incessantly puzzling why the missive merely closes like this:
I knew beforehand that Chief John F. Miller is with Albemarle County and Timothy J. Longo is the Police Chief of Charlottesville, and I recently learned the Chief of Police for the University of Virginia is Michael A. Gibson.
The only person I wasn’t sure about was the VSP BCI Captain. I gave that a quick look-up. Sheesh. There are seven possibilities.
I reasoned the best thing to do was ask someone who could tell me. Today I phoned Jason Trent. Holy crab, that man has gone pure hostile! Aside from straightaway flooring me with uncalled-for brusqueness he refused to give me the name of the Captain, choosing instead to sneer “you can use your Internet savvy to find that out.”
Excuze-ay-moi? You. Have got. To be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
All right, jackhole. I will find out.
Which means I now must go nosing into the working lives of seven Law Enforcement men I primarily had not a splinter of interest in.
I’ve already established there’s just no way to ascertain from the Internet what Captain from the seven is the one connected to the JADE Task Force. I guess I’ll have to incur other savvies to figure it out.
Seven. It’s too bad I don’t have the smarts to detect the obvious guy and start with him.
Rather than giving me a simple answer that would’ve been relegated to periodic echoes deep within the caverns of my brain exclusively, Mr. Trent’s thrown me a (potentially huge) project -- one I can share on I HeArTE JADE.
Way to go not giving me site fodder, sir.
JADE Task Force Command Group
Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation Captain
University of Virginia Police Chief
Albemarle County Police Chief
Charlottesville City Police Chief
Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation Captain
University of Virginia Police Chief
Albemarle County Police Chief
Charlottesville City Police Chief
I knew beforehand that Chief John F. Miller is with Albemarle County and Timothy J. Longo is the Police Chief of Charlottesville, and I recently learned the Chief of Police for the University of Virginia is Michael A. Gibson.
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The only person I wasn’t sure about was the VSP BCI Captain. I gave that a quick look-up. Sheesh. There are seven possibilities.
I reasoned the best thing to do was ask someone who could tell me. Today I phoned Jason Trent. Holy crab, that man has gone pure hostile! Aside from straightaway flooring me with uncalled-for brusqueness he refused to give me the name of the Captain, choosing instead to sneer “you can use your Internet savvy to find that out.”
Excuze-ay-moi? You. Have got. To be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
All right, jackhole. I will find out.
Which means I now must go nosing into the working lives of seven Law Enforcement men I primarily had not a splinter of interest in.
I’ve already established there’s just no way to ascertain from the Internet what Captain from the seven is the one connected to the JADE Task Force. I guess I’ll have to incur other savvies to figure it out.
Seven. It’s too bad I don’t have the smarts to detect the obvious guy and start with him.
Rather than giving me a simple answer that would’ve been relegated to periodic echoes deep within the caverns of my brain exclusively, Mr. Trent’s thrown me a (potentially huge) project -- one I can share on I HeArTE JADE.
Way to go not giving me site fodder, sir.
Behind The Badge
Sometimes Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force members will don their swaggin’ black jackets, call for special weapons and drug dogs, and make use of the Virginia State Police.
That guy, right there, the passenger? Has a firearm the size of me.
And the wheels keep rolling.
I’m thinkin’ one of these times we should all just ride together.
What a difference the sunshine makes!
This is where the pictures end for you. I took stacks more but -- you know the drill -- to pro-tect. My. Self. Aaaaaand others… Blah, blah. Blah.
That guy, right there, the passenger? Has a firearm the size of me.
And the wheels keep rolling.
I’m thinkin’ one of these times we should all just ride together.
What a difference the sunshine makes!
This is where the pictures end for you. I took stacks more but -- you know the drill -- to pro-tect. My. Self. Aaaaaand others… Blah, blah. Blah.
20090706
Paul Best For Sheriff
Check this out.
If you enter paul best for sheriff in a Google search, his site www.paulbestforsheriff.com doesn’t even make the list. At all. In the about 1,100,000 results. Nowhere in there. No sir.
See whose site is ranking though with paul best for sheriff, and right near the tippy-top? Yup. Mine. This one. I HeArTE JADE.
Heh.
To be fair, if you quoterize -- “paul best for sheriff” -- www.paulbestforsheriff.com does show up.
Right smack underneath iheartejade.blogspot.com
Aw yeah.
(Google placement subject to frequent change.)
If you enter paul best for sheriff in a Google search, his site www.paulbestforsheriff.com doesn’t even make the list. At all. In the about 1,100,000 results. Nowhere in there. No sir.
See whose site is ranking though with paul best for sheriff, and right near the tippy-top? Yup. Mine. This one. I HeArTE JADE.
Heh.
To be fair, if you quoterize -- “paul best for sheriff” -- www.paulbestforsheriff.com does show up.
Right smack underneath iheartejade.blogspot.com
Aw yeah.
(Google placement subject to frequent change.)
20090705
Paul Best For Sheriff
“My name is Paul Best and I am a Detective with the Charlottesville Police Department assigned to the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force.”
Detective Best’s campaign announcement speech can be read in its entirety on www.paulbestforsheriff.com
20090704
Bygone News
February 2008
U.S. Attorney John L. Brownlee announced Wednesday that Reynold George Samuels, Jr., age 39, of Charlottesville and Waynesboro, Virginia, and seven other defendants were indicted by a federal Grand Jury sitting in Charlottesville, Virginia. The identities of the remaining defendants is sealed pending their arrests and appearances before a federal judge.More.
All of the accused were indicted on charges related to an alleged continuing criminal enterprise, headed by Samuels that distributed illegal drugs and pirated DVDs throughout the Western District of Virginia.
Members of the group were also indicted for illegally possessing firearms and for specific distributions of controlled substances over the past five years.
The accused were charged in a 14-count indictment. All of the charges arose from a cooperative investigation involving the JADE Task Force, the Drug Enforcement Administration, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
20090703
Thanks, Special Agent, For The Suggestion
VA State BCI-man Trent nonchalantly (yeah, right) brought up my duct-tape-headlights trick, upon which I told him I now use magnetic strips. They’re easier to get on and off, move around, et cetera. He responded it’s illegal to do that. Forgive me if I doubt he was being honest. However having been alerted to the possibility that I might be breaking the law, in addition to possibly being ticketed for it, I’ve given it a fair amount of consideration. Specifically, what I could do instead.
It occurs to me that aftermarket vehicle modification is not uncommon. One can buy light shields from any ol’ place like AutoZone, order fanciers off the Internet, or custom-make them yourself. Of course that still doesn’t mean it’s officially permissible.
I also recall an odd teevee series from way back called Stingray. There isn’t much I remember from the show, except I do recollect a part where the main character was tailing whatever malefic villain and every time they turned a corner he pushed a button and his front lamps morphed into a unique style; they popped up, they sunk in, they rounded, they dimmed. Nifty indeed, but too extreme for my needs. Maybe not the dimming stuff, though. That would be what, a matter of wiring?
I’ve thought about Law Enforcement tactics, because we all know officers wouldn’t violate laws to enforce laws. This article on FBI surveillance provides an idea of the electrical manipulation direction my mind is going in. Mix in a memory of a Stella Marrs postcard -- I can bake a cake to die for -- and I’m believing doin’ a little headlights work is within the realm of my capabilities.
Therefore I’m reading anything and everything that might help me do this and I’m familiarizing myself with the relevant parts under the hood (the thing I left ajar, I know). I’m studying VA motor vehicles codes as well, on account it’s appealing but mainly to see if Mr. Trent was telling me the truth for once.
If nothing else, the filing cabinet that’s inside my skull will have so much new information. How bad can that be?
It occurs to me that aftermarket vehicle modification is not uncommon. One can buy light shields from any ol’ place like AutoZone, order fanciers off the Internet, or custom-make them yourself. Of course that still doesn’t mean it’s officially permissible.
I also recall an odd teevee series from way back called Stingray. There isn’t much I remember from the show, except I do recollect a part where the main character was tailing whatever malefic villain and every time they turned a corner he pushed a button and his front lamps morphed into a unique style; they popped up, they sunk in, they rounded, they dimmed. Nifty indeed, but too extreme for my needs. Maybe not the dimming stuff, though. That would be what, a matter of wiring?
I’ve thought about Law Enforcement tactics, because we all know officers wouldn’t violate laws to enforce laws. This article on FBI surveillance provides an idea of the electrical manipulation direction my mind is going in. Mix in a memory of a Stella Marrs postcard -- I can bake a cake to die for -- and I’m believing doin’ a little headlights work is within the realm of my capabilities.
Therefore I’m reading anything and everything that might help me do this and I’m familiarizing myself with the relevant parts under the hood (the thing I left ajar, I know). I’m studying VA motor vehicles codes as well, on account it’s appealing but mainly to see if Mr. Trent was telling me the truth for once.
If nothing else, the filing cabinet that’s inside my skull will have so much new information. How bad can that be?
Let The Drummer Kick
From the map came a location.
From the location came a man.
From the media came a name.
From the name came a picture:
From the picture came a match?
Kind of looked like the same Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force Officer anyway. Hard to tell, horizontally. I thought up a way to be sure.
I started with a property search in the City of Charlottesville but found no records. On the County of Albemarle site I queried “Hatter, J” and got one result.
Some time later in a boredom-stirred early morning drive-by staring, I saw and recognized the silver Monte Carlo parked outside the house at that address.
And that’s how I learned the man I’d nicknamed Dasani was Charlottesville Police JADE Sgt. Joe Hatter.
From the location came a man.
From the media came a name.
From the name came a picture:
From the picture came a match?
Kind of looked like the same Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force Officer anyway. Hard to tell, horizontally. I thought up a way to be sure.
I started with a property search in the City of Charlottesville but found no records. On the County of Albemarle site I queried “Hatter, J” and got one result.
Some time later in a boredom-stirred early morning drive-by staring, I saw and recognized the silver Monte Carlo parked outside the house at that address.
And that’s how I learned the man I’d nicknamed Dasani was Charlottesville Police JADE Sgt. Joe Hatter.
Erst News
February 2007
Drug arrest on West MainSource.
More charges possible in crack sting
Larry Jermaine Jones, a 24-year-old Palmyra man, was arrested and charged with possession of cocaine and intent to distribute. In an “undercover operation,” Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force (JADE) (www.charlottesville.org) officers and Fluvanna police found 10 grams of crack cocaine valued at about $2,000 at the 900 block of W. Main Street in a residential/commercial space. Though a press release says more people may be involved, City spokesman Barrick says the bust was not that large.
JADE Sergeant Joe Hatter could not be reached for comment.
Renovation
I’ve added some new curtains,
You may have noticed, or maybe you didn’t notice, the disclaimer of sorts at the top of I HeArTE JADE. I figure I’ll leave it up there in the heavens for a few days -- long enough for people to go “Uh-Oh. What is she up to now?” -- then drop it down to hell where it’ll largely be ignored by everyone thereafter.
moved some furniture around,
Those familiar with my self-amusing antics know I like obscure rearrangement but this time I went with a transparent motif. Latest site changes are in booooooorrrring obvious places.
have a couple of art pieces to hang on the wall on their way,
I’m betting VA State Police Special Agent Jason Trent now has this bookmarked on his O-Fish-Ullll BCI computer and doesn’t look at much, if anything, else here. Any takers? (Ya know the only reason I mess with him is ‘cause he keeps steppin’ in my s… pace.)
and torched the beehive with gasoline.
You may have noticed, or maybe you didn’t notice, the disclaimer of sorts at the top of I HeArTE JADE. I figure I’ll leave it up there in the heavens for a few days -- long enough for people to go “Uh-Oh. What is she up to now?” -- then drop it down to hell where it’ll largely be ignored by everyone thereafter.
moved some furniture around,
Those familiar with my self-amusing antics know I like obscure rearrangement but this time I went with a transparent motif. Latest site changes are in booooooorrrring obvious places.
have a couple of art pieces to hang on the wall on their way,
I’m betting VA State Police Special Agent Jason Trent now has this bookmarked on his O-Fish-Ullll BCI computer and doesn’t look at much, if anything, else here. Any takers? (Ya know the only reason I mess with him is ‘cause he keeps steppin’ in my s… pace.)
and torched the beehive with gasoline.
20090702
If The Subsequent Information Is Incorrect, Fault His Respective Department
- Don Campbell’s badge number is CP6.
- Joe Hatter’s badge number is CP15.
- Granville Fields’ badge number is CP302.
- Paul Best’s badge number is CP305.
- Brian O’Donnell’s badge number is CP309.
- John Baber’s badge number is AP228.
- Jon Seitz’s badge number is AP601.
- Jon McKay’s badge number is AP604.
- Joe Fleming’s badge number is VSP4098.
- Jimmy Bunch’s badge number is UP153.
- I don’t know (yet) if ATF agents even have badge numbers, which is why John Stoltz is missing from this list.
20090627
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