Monday, September 27, 2010
Transcripts of Buju Meeting with Informat (CS)
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BY TANESHA MUNDLE Observer staff reporter mundlet@jamaicaobserver.com
Deejay Bounty Killer was this morning granted bail when he appeared in the Corporate Area Resident Magistrate's court.
Jurors Evenly Split on Buju's Fate
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Judge Orders Jury to Deliberate in Reggae Singer Buju Banton's Drug Trial
The 12-person jury sent U.S. District Judge James Moody a note Monday saying they hadn't reached a verdict because none of them had changed their minds since Thursday, when deliberations began after a four-day trial. Moody had released them for the weekend on Friday.
Banton's attorney asked for a mistrial, which Moody denied.
Banton is charged with conspiracy to possess and distribute cocaine and aiding two others in possessing a firearm during the course of cocaine distribution. He faces up to life in prison.
Banton's attorney maintains that a U.S. government informant entrapped him.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Old Mon and the Sea
Jamaica has been on the defensive lately. jamaica . . . no problem T-shirts sold in sticky tourist flytraps seemed like so much wishful thinking in June, when a popular mafioso went on the lam and riots shocked the slums of Kingston. It would be a while before the memory of daily body counts receded into a haze of happy ganja smoke.
Chris Blackwell, the big daddy cool of the Island Outpost group — a consortium of glitzster hotels including the Caves, Jakes, Strawberry Hill, Geejam and Ian Fleming’s beach retreat, GoldenEye — remembers the country’s postwar better self, when high tide used to bring Hollywood and royals of every flag. “The first person I ever saw water-ski was Errol Flynn,” says Blackwell, who grew up in Jamaica. Flynn was dressed for cocktails. He had a cigarette holder in his fist “and a dachshund under his arm. I was 12 or 13, and it was the most glamorous thing I’d ever seen.”
That was then. Now Jamaica, with its lush Jurassic terrain and hypnotic music, its fountainhead of rum and distinct cuisine, competes for heat with St. Bart’s, Mustique and even Anguilla, a scrubby cultural wasteland in Blackwell’s view. “Anguilla is just a strip of sand,” he says dismissively. “But a lot of people who have money prefer a place that has no natives. No problems. All they want is a great beach.” Though Blackwell himself is now a very rich man, he is careful to avoid any implication that he has become the Mon. The founder of Island Records, he phenomenized Bob Marley, Cat Stevens, Grace Jones, Steve Winwood, the B-52s and Roxy Music; signed U2 to its first record contract; and then, in 1989, sold his label to PolyGram for something like $300 million.
Then came a ’90s layover in South Beach, when Miami was practically giving away Deco bijoux, and Blackwell, who couldn’t resist a bargain, scooped up the Marlin and the Tides. But now he’s home, and Jamaica is his next act, only Jamaica is suddenly behaving like some strung-out rock star. A State Department travel warning was briefly issued just as the impresario was getting ready to take me on a tour of his Jamaica, the last stop the gutted-and-overhauled GoldenEye, scheduled to open in mid-November.
The Caves sits high on a cliff in Negril, past the honeymooner hideaways and the storied emerald golfscapes of Montego Bay. Blackwell, who despises golf, has made a conscious decision to leave the country-clubbers to MoBay, as natives call it, where his cousins, the Pringles, famously opened Round Hill in 1953. Blackwell’s Island Outpost almost seems to make a point of tastefully exploiting the other rich and varied neighborhoods of the island.
The Old Harrovian accent notwithstanding, Blackwell grew up in Jamaica, where his mother’s clan, the Lindos, is one of the island’s first families. At the hotel bar, he shows off Blackwell’s Black Gold Special Reserve Fine Jamaican Rum, with its Gothic-scripted treasure-map label. “Settling in Jamaica in 1625,” it says of the Lindos, “they were renowned for exporting bananas, coconuts and rum.” (Equally: the importing of slaves from Africa.)
“On a choppy day, it’s like a washing machine in here,” says Blackwell, 73 but markedly fit, swimming his grotto like some grizzled Neptune. Blackwell fishtails through an underwater tunnel to reach a second, larger cave. I follow and emerge bleeding like shark chum. “Fetch the white rum!” he shouts — 150 proof. Locals slap their faces with it like Aqua Velva before downing a shot. Blackwell dabs it on the back-of-leg scratches, and it burns more than the original offense. But it could be worse: On a recent night swim here with Vladimir Doronin, the Russian-oligarch boyfriend of Naomi Campbell, sea urchins stung Blackwell on both hands. The remedy for that, he reliably informs me, is urine. The Caves is sand-free, and so in the next few months, Blackwell plans to revamp the resort, its Caribbean cottages giving way to Santorini-bleached rooftops.
After a breakfast of johnnycakes and eggs with callaloo, it’s into the jeep for a trek down south. Blackwell used to know the roads like a telephone lineman, but that was ages ago, and the signs are spotty. Blackwell, a widower of five years, turns out to be an indefatigable roadside shopper, on the hunt for lignum vitae cutting boards, artisanal goat cheese, Bombay mangoes. The jeep slows at a fly-clouded shack where Blackwell consumes fried snapper and a Red Stripe as anonymously as any bus driver.
The houses turn more fastidious as we enter St. Elizabeth Parish, where the villas of Jakes bestride Treasure Beach. The rooms are a fashion stylist’s dream: door frames made of driftwood, walls in the outdoor showers built with Perrier-Jouët empties, a birdbath recycled as a sink. The zinc-roofed cottages were designed by Sally Henzell, an unreconstructed hippie who once dated Blackwell before marrying Perry Henzell, the director of “The Harder They Come.”
Her son Jason, who quit banking to oversee Jakes, commandeers the skiff Mr. Nice Guy for a voyage to the Pelican Bar, a flimsy offshore rig that has somehow survived his 40th-birthday blowout and a hurricane. Jason points to the property down the shore that Lily Allen was going to buy — then didn’t. “That’s when her accountant said, ‘What do you want to go and buy land in Jamaica for?’ ” Blackwell jokes. (But, he adds politely, “She’s a terrific girl.”)
The boat slows before two giant hawksbill turtles in flagrante delicto, a rare sight and virtually impossible to capture with Blackwell’s Nokia phone. “Okay, we’ve interrupted enough of this love affair,” Blackwell announces, and the skiff skips onward.
Back in the jeep, we reach Kingston after Blackwell begs directions from a police car and is dragooned into taking on a hitchhiker, a friendly mama juggling plastic-wrapped plates of food. She turns out to be a cop, too. “So now that I have a cop in the car, I can break the speed limit?” Blackwell asks. She gives him a breadfruit recipe before hopping out.
We make a left into Trench Town: broken asphalt, corrugated roofs and car tires repurposed as planters. Bob Marley was raised here. “I released his first record,” says Blackwell, who misread the name on the tape box as Robert Morley. “Same as the foppish English actor. That record’s worth thousands of dollars now. ‘Robert Morley’ singing ‘One Cup of Coffee’ on one side and ‘Judge Not’ on the other. It’s like a mistake on a stamp.”
When Marley was shot, he recuperated at Strawberry Hill, Blackwell’s home high above Kingston in the Blue Mountains, where the coffee comes from. Blackwell’s gingerbread house with shutters is duplicated on a smaller scale on the estate’s 50 acres for guests who dig cottages with treehouse views and the colonial romance of four-poster beds canopied with mosquito nets. “Bob and I were a match made in heaven,” Blackwell says. “He’d met someone who is Jamaican, who understood the language, understood him, what he was. And didn’t reject it. I gave him money without any contract to make a record because with these rebel characters, the only way to establish a relationship with them is to show them trust.”
In Kingston proper, Marley’s house turns out to be a Victorian gingerbread, too. Blackwell lived here first, orchestrating a hand-over, one intuits, to tweak the neighbors, who appear to have responded by selling out to car dealerships in this formerly upmarket neighborhood. “Rich people don’t care at all for the classes that don’t have any money, they really don’t,” says Blackwell, who deems Marley “blessed with a real innate wisdom.” Blackwell remembers when Rastas were treated like vermin, underappreciated as fakirs who rove the land and are today so closely identified with the Jamaica brand. They remind him more than a bit of the Jews.
On the coast, in Port Antonio, No Doubt and Drake are expected in coming months at Geejam’s in situ recording studio. Tom Cruise and his family rented all five villas when he shot “Knight and Day” in town. The Aga Khan is dearly departed from his Port Antonio beach house and private island, but Thyssens still reside at Alligator Head, and the cattle is still branded ef for Errol Flynn at Flynn’s estate, Boston, a 15-minute drive from Geejam, where his widow, Patrice, endures.
Blackwell’s partner Jon Baker is a punk pirate: diamond hoop earrings, chipped tooth and oik accent. His act under management is the Jolly Boys, a bouncy calypso band of elderlies singing Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” down at the Bushbar restaurant.
Blackwell confers with Baker about installing Apple TVs at other Island Outpost hotels: keep the guests pleasantly distracted if it rains. The discussion inevitably runs aground on St. Bart’s. “If they want to make Jamaica happening, they’ll have to loosen restrictions,” says Blackwell, who’d like to see marijuana declassified as a drug here.
“Marijuana is Jamaica’s big brand,” Baker says.
“This place would really take off,” Blackwell continues. “But parents hear the word ‘drugs’ and don’t want their kids near that. Marijuana is a plant. It’s an herb. It’s ridiculous.”
Blackwell handles the jet ski like a Harley as we buzz the beaches and mangrove-shadowed lagoons of his ambitious 52-acre GoldenEye compound. There’s talk that the airstrip nearby, which is being upgraded to accommodate international flights, will be renamed the Ian Fleming Airport. Fleming’s red bulletwood desk, where he fired off 14 spy novels, shall return. (The original skin-and-bones villa that Blackwell acquired in 1977 has been refreshed and expanded as part of the overhaul.) Fleming’s gardener Ramsey Dacosta remains, cutting coconuts for guests. Summer-camp-style docks have been grafted to each of the private villas. Blackwell jokes that one super-property is “the Russian lot.”
Fleming was merely a journalist and former intelligence officer who had only just started fooling about with a novel on his typewriter when he started up at GoldenEye. Blackwell’s darkly ravishing mother, Blanche, eventually became Commander Fleming’s mistress. She sublet GoldenEye and redecorated it, much to the irritation of Fleming’s wife, Ann, who disparaged Blanche to friends as Ian’s “Jamaican wife.” It’s the only subject Blackwell trips over later in the car, probably because his mother is still alive. He describes her back then as “sort of like a man in a way, ready to try anything and go anywhere.” Blanche was a fixture at Firefly, Noël Coward’s house just up the hill and open to the public. This is where, at age 14, Blackwell learned how to be at ease with superstars like Charlie Chaplin, Liz Taylor and Audrey Hepburn funning around the swimming pool with the heart-stopping view.
The jeep pulls into the Montego Bay airport. The end of the road. We’ve been listening to the band 1 Giant Leap in the car. “It’s all about finding things that will attract people,” Blackwell says. “Like a video does for a record.” May Jamaica be a hit for Chris Blackwell.
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Protoje unplugged for Manifesto Toronto
Protoje Exclusive Performance from themanifesto.ca on Vimeo.
Watch this video of Protoje and his Indiggnation band’s lead guitarist, Jason Worton, doing an acoustic version of the song »JA« exclusively for Manifesto. Shot in the hills of Kingston, Jamaica.
Friday, September 24, 2010
No Verdict Yet
BY PAUL HENRY Observer staff reporter henryp@jamaicaobserver.com
The jury has broken their deliberations for lunch and the courtroom closed in the trial of Reggae singer Buju Banton. The jury will return for their deliberations at 1:00 pm or 12:00 pm Jamaican time.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Jamaicans Anxiously Await Buju Verdict

Florida jury deliberates in Buju Banton drug trial
Published: Thursday, Sept. 23, 2010 11:36 a.m. MDT
TAMPA, Fla. — A Florida jury is deciding whether Jamaican reggae star Buju Banton conspired to buy cocaine from an undercover police officer last year.
Banton is charged with conspiracy to possess and distribute cocaine and aiding two others in possessing a firearm during the course of cocaine distribution. He faces up to life in prison.
The singer testified that he talked a lot about cocaine with a U.S. government informant, but he was only trying to impress the man, who claimed to have music industry connections.
In closing arguments Thursday, Banton's attorney said the informant only managed to connect two co-defendants to the conspiracy.
Those men pleaded guilty. Neither testified in the trial that began Monday in Tampa federal court.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Buju says he’s nervous, scared
By PAUL HENRY, Observer staff reporter, henryp@jamaicaobserver.com
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Transcripts of Buju's Meeting
Buju never invested in drugs says informant

Prosecution plays video tape showing artiste tasting cocaine
BY PAUL HENRY Observer reporter henryp@jamaicaobserver.com
Alexander Johnson, the United States informant assisting prosecutors to seal a conviction against Reggae artiste, this afternoon testified that Buju Banton never entered into any drug deal with him.
Johnson, a Colombian national who had served three years for a drug offense, made the revelation under cross-examination from Banton's attorney David Markus.
He said Banton, whose real name is Mark Myrie, never sold or bought drugs and had never wired any money to him to invest in the illicit trade.
Johnson also admitted that Banton had never purchased any cocaine in Panama or Colombia and that their dealings never went beyond talk.
The informant did not readily answer when Markus asked if Myrie had stopped taking his calls in December last year.
"Didn't Ian Thomas tell you that he (Myrie) does not want to do anything man? Talk to me. He said that's not him, he is about music, he eats and sleeps the music?" Markus asked to which Johnson replied yes.
Johnson also told the court that he had no knowledge that Myrie had financed the deal that went sour in the police controlled warehouse in Saratoga, Florida when Myrie's co-defendants, Ian Thomas and James Mack were arrested attempting to purchase cocaine from Drug Enforcement agents.
Earlier the prosecution played a video recording of Myrie tasting the contraband in December last year. The footage showed the artiste, Thomas and an undercover cop at a location in Sarasota. A kilogramme of the drug was produced by the cop and Thomas used a knife to cut it open and Myrie used his finger to wipe the knife and sampled the cocaine.
Thomas described the drug as 'fish scale' a term Johnson explained to mean high quality. While the footage was being showed some of Banton's fans appeared disappointed while others watched with keen interest.
Johnson also testified that during a meeting Thomas informed him that he had a contact in Georgia with drug connections and that he (Thomas) would be the person who would be doing business.
Markus is expected to continue cross-examining Johnson when the trial resumes tomorrow morning (September 22, 2010).
Tapes at Buju Banton trial in Tampa reveal discussions of drug deals
By Nicole Hutcheson, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Wednesday, September 22, 2010

On a summer day last year, reggae star Buju Banton met up with a man for drinks at a Fort Lauderdale restaurant.
After hours of casual conversation, the talk turned to drugs.
"Do you have any contacts where I can get cocaine?" Banton eventually asked.
He didn't know the man he was talking with was an informer, and that part of the conversation was being taped.
The question came back to haunt the four time Grammy-nominated musician Tuesday morning in a federal courtroom in Tampa, where the 37-year-old faces charges of conspiracy to buy and sell 5 kilos of cocaine, and aiding and abetting two others to possess a firearm in the course of cocaine distribution.
Prosecutors presented audio evidence of Banton, whose real name is Mark Myrie, discussing a wide variety of drug deals over five months, including shipping cocaine from Panama to Europe in crates with frozen seafood.
Alexander Johnson, the government informer, testified he first met Banton in first class on a flight from Madrid in July 2009.
From then on, he said he called Banton several times and met with the star throughout Florida.
The audiotapes and transcripts presented Tuesday included choppy conversations between the men. Drugs are discussed, as are dollar amounts and the best ways to transport, but often incoherently. Alcohol was consumed during most of the encounters.
But prosecutors say what is clear is that Banton wanted to put up money to buy cocaine.
"All I do is finance," Banton told Johnson during the restaurant meeting, transcripts show.
"So you give the money to buy dope?" Johnson asked.
"Yes," said Banton, according to transcripts.
Defense attorney David Markus has argued that while his client talked about drug dealing, he never actually funded any.
"Did Mr. Myrie invest one dollar of money into a drug deal?" Markus asked Johnson during cross examination.
"With me — no," Johnson answered.
During another conversation on Aug. 1 at a South Florida hotel, Banton and Johnson discussed buying kilos of cocaine from Panama and transporting them to Europe in containers filled with frozen seafood.
Johnson told Banton he had a seafood business called Frozen Fish, the transcripts show.
Johnson turned informer in 1996 after being convicted of distributing cocaine and marijuana. He was paid $50,000 in the Banton case, according to testimony.
During a conversation at a Sarasota restaurant on Dec. 8, Banton admitted to Johnson he was having money problems. "My truck is in the shop and I can't get it out," Banton said. "I'm going to concentrate, though; things are going to be straight next year."
It was on that day that Banton brought an associate named Ian Thomas along for lunch with Johnson. Banton described Thomas as a "friend who had contacts to purchase kilos of cocaine," Johnson said in court.
Johnson told Banton he would give him 5 extra kilos of cocaine if Thomas and his associate, a man named James Mack, purchased 20 kilos.
Prosecutors presented video of Johnson, Banton and Thomas entering a warehouse in Sarasota later that day. In it, Thomas cuts a kilo open. Banton approaches, takes the knife, wipes it and tastes his finger.
Another video shows Thomas and Mack being arrested while attempting to purchase cocaine at the warehouse two days later. Banton was arrested later that day at his South Florida home.
"So that 5-kilo deal for Mr. Myrie never happened, did it?" Markus asked Johnson.
"No," Johnson said.
The trial is scheduled to continue today.
Monday, September 20, 2010
DEA Agent Testifies in Buju's Favour
BY PAUL HENRY Observer reporter henryp@jamaicaobserver.com

Drug Enforcement Agent Daniel McCeaffrey, today testified that he had no evidence that Reggae singer Buju Banton, was involved in illicit drug dealing.
McCeaffrey, who gave evidence on the first day of the trial at the Gibbons US Federal Court in downtown Tampa, said there was no evidence that Buju Banton — whose real name is Mark Myrie — received any money from any drug deal.
He also said even though he was investigating Banton for a year, he could find no evidence that the artiste had collected any money from drug dealing.
He made the revelation during cross-examination from Banton's attorney David Markus.
Markus, in his opening salvo, told the 14-member panel of jurors that he would prove that Myrie was not a drug trafficker and had never invested in illicit drug dealing. He said that artiste would waive his right not to testify.
"He's got nothing to hide because the truth is on his side in this case," Markus said.
He said his client's big mistake was that he loved to talk. Markus said Myrie met DEA informant Alexander Johnson, a Colombian national, on a flight from Madrid Spain to Florida last year and during conversation Johnson introduced the subject of drug dealing to him.
He said Myrie had in fact tasted cocaine but that did not qualify him as a drug dealer.
Markus also argued that Myrie did not know about the US$130,000 that his co-defendant James Mack had been held with. The money he said was given to Mack by two men identified as 'Ike' and 'Tike' from Atlanta, Georgia.
The attorney said Mack and Ian Thomas were the ones who were dealing drugs and said his client made a decision not to partake in any deal and went to his Tamarac home in Florida, where he was arrested in December last year.
Mack and Thomas have taken plea deals and have agreed to testify against the artiste. All three are charged with conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute five or more kilogrammes of cocaine. The charge carries a sentence of 20 years to life and a fine of up to US$4 million.
Prosecutor Jim Preston argued that he would prove that Myrie is a known drug dealer who invested in multi-million dollar drug enterprises and he was arrested because he was starting a new venture.
Forensic chemist Alexandra Gongra also gave evidence that the substance that Thomas and Mack were arrested with was cocaine.
Telephone records analyst Donnie Godshoal also gave evidence today.
Dozens of Banton's supporters turned up outside the court to show their solidarity with the four time Grammy nominee.
His former manager Donovan Germaine, VP Records President Chris Chin and Deejay Delly Ranks were also present for the trial.
Bounty Killer Accused of Hitting Woman With Hammer

Sometimes I feel so alone, I just don't know, feels like I been down this road before, So lonely and cold, It's like something takes over me, Soon as I go home and close the door, Kinda feels like deja vu, I wanna get away from this place I do, But I can't and I won't say I tried but I know that's a lie cause I don't And why I just don't know...
Eminem Déjà vu
Dancehall artiste Bounty Killer is again behind bars for assaulting a female companion at his Oakland Apartment on Saturday September 18, 2010. According to a statement from Deputy Superintendent Altermonth Campbell from the Constant Spring Police Station, “Mr. Rodney Price was arrested after a female covered with bruises reported that he (Bounty Killer) had used a hammer to beat her.”
DSP Campbell says from his experience and based on a trend, he believes some entertainers are having problems handling success. "I truly believe success is their problem,"
DSP Campbell said. In speaking specifically to the allegations about the 'Warlord', Campbell said; "Bounty is not a fool, for years he has been doing good songs so he is not a fool."
Killer will remain behind bars until his court date this Wednesday the 22 of September.
The incident comes approximately six months after Bounty Killer spent two weeks behind bars, after he was arrested by the same Constant Spring police for allegedly assaulting his girlfriend. The complainant, Kadeem Baker, eventually dropped her claims against him.
I had a dog name Hitman Wally and it learned not to shit in the house, and he is the DUMBEST dog in the world. Now if a dumbass like Hitman Wally can learn not to shit where he sleeps, why is it so hard for Rodney Price to learn that slapping around females is just not Kosher? Also does Bounty Killer have to kill one of these women before they learn not to pursue a ‘relationship’ with this serial abuser? Or maybe 19 stitches is now a groupie Medal of Honour?



