(You may want to skip to part 2 for the meat of the argument here)
Douchebag City does not like poor people. That's the fenced-in city that locks the gates on Hallow'een:
A view of the fence of the east side of Douchebag City: on the other side is Montréal Park-Extension district.
In order to drive ahead, you are facing a 1 mile detour — and even then, I'm not sure that you can do the U-Turn Google Maps tells you to do…
For the second time (first time was 2 years ago) in my life that I was walking on the streets of Douchebag City I have been hassled by their security guards. When I take a walk, I always bring my camera and I take pictures (2 years ago, though, I did not have my camera so it should not be construed that they only harass photographers).
To put things in perspective, I grew up in Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, which is right next to Westmount and now I live in St-Henri which is also right next to it. Westmount is the richest city if not in Canada, at least in Québec (St-Henri is the poorest :) ). That's where the Bronfmans live, for example. Wesmount owns the country, whereas those who live in Douchebag City are the underlings of the owners, those who do their dirty work for them.
Never a single time in my life I have ever been hassled in Westmount, whether as a kid I went to play in the parks, went trick-or-treating (the extra hike up the mountain was worth it for the extra candy) or right now when I go for a hike (it's on the mountain after all) and take pictures of the houses:
That classy Beaux-Arts style mansion on Westmount avenue used to belong to Robert Obadia, a businessman who specialized in running airlines to the ground. Compare the class and style to Douchebag city houses.
Now a word about the police. What happens here is radically different than what happened to me in Ottawa. Back in the 1970's, police in Québec was a ragtag assembly of poorly trained thugs who excelled in abuse (back then, Montréal was the hold-up capital of North-America). When the Parti Québécois took power, they took a series of steps to thoroughly modernize society and curtail the injustices going on. One of those things was the "école nationale de police" where all policemen got to get the same consistent training — Oh, there are still douchebags, but they are facing a higher standard. Contrast this to elsewhere in Canada where training is not standardized and the conduct of officers vary very wildly. (Now, Montréal is no longer the hold-up capital).
Oh, and lastly, I am one of those "pure laines", which means that I have ½ french blood, ½ indian blood, ½ scottish blood, ½ all sorts of bloods mixed, so I look pretty nondescriptly average, so there aren't any race issues involved here. Not that I am saying that if I had a nicer skin colour that the outcome would have been the same…
I was walking around the streets of douchebag city, and I snapped pictures of houses here and there:
An example of the kind of kitsch houses you will find in Douchebag City.
There may be money there, but it’s fugly!
— I'm taking pictures of houses.
— Why for?
— My business.
— Well, some people have seen you and they are afraid so they called security.
— So? That's not my problem. Good day, sir.
And I left, snapping some more pictures. He followed me with his truck and started to insist:
The douche in action. Note: to those who would object that this is a violation of the douche's privacy, he is standing on a public thoroughfare as a public official, performing presumably official duty. And since I do not publish the picture (from my own webserver and not CPTDB's) in order to make money, the argument that has recently been used in court against a magazine does not stand. Oh, and to those who would be tempted to dismiss the douche as an arab, although he looks a bit like one he is thoroughly "pure laine" – and in anycase, arabs do not act douchebaggy like that.
The douche in action. Note: to those who would object that this is a violation of the douche's privacy, he is standing on a public thoroughfare as a public official, performing presumably official duty. And since I do not publish the picture (from my own webserver and not CPTDB's) in order to make money, the argument that has recently been used in court against a magazine does not stand. Oh, and to those who would be tempted to dismiss the douche as an arab, although he looks a bit like one he is thoroughly "pure laine" – and in anycase, arabs do not act douchebaggy like that.
— Why are you taking pictures for?
— This is my business.
— I will have to call the police so they investigate.
— They will investigate nothing as there is nothing illegal done.
And I keep going, while he follows me with his truck.
I then exited Douchebag city through a gate in the fence, and walked through Park Extension. In about 10 minutes, a police car stopped by me and through the speaker, the policewoman told me she wanted to talk to me. I stopped and she gets out of the car.
(Demeanor is important. During the following, I stood legs apart, back straight, hands on my hips, never for one second not looking straight at the policewoman and never moving at all — this is to convey that I am 200% cocksure about myself — no shifty eyes — and that I am not intimidated by the badge or the good looks; cops will count on people being afraid of them or intimidated. By not being afraid and asserting your rights, you drive them the message that they are not all gods. Never at any time anyone shouted; conversation was all very civil, even though I was adamantly firm in making my points. By contrast, in Ottawa, I was shouted at the whole time. Finally, in the exchange below, I have put in red what I should not have said and what the police said is in blue in italic ).
— What is it this about? (I actually said "c'est à quel sujet", which is actually snob talk — only a high-class snob would say that*; this is to mean that I know what I am doing, I know I am right and I am not a run-of-the-mill sheep who does not know his rights)
— I would like to see some ID.
— What for? Are you arresting me? Are you detaining me?
— No.
— Then I don't have to give you ID. (Note: this is totally pursuant with §73 of the penal procedure code).
— There has been an event with you.
— So?
— What did happen?
— I have been harrassed by a security guard in [Douchebag City]. (I should have not said that; although I made it sound more like a complaint, I was volunteering information, which one should never do. What I should have said is “I have nothing to say” — not “nothing”).
— Yes, he called us.
— You should give him a ticket for calling you for no reason.
— What?
— If I call "911" repeatedly for no reason, you're going to give me a ticket, no?
— He said you have been taking pictures?
— This is not illegal. It's a beautiful day, I'm taking a walk though a "nice" neighbourhood and I snap pictures of houses.
— I have to see ID.
— Are you detaining me?
— We are investigating the incident.
— Do you have probable cause to believe something illegal was done?
— We don't know yet, that's why I have to see ID.
— Refusing to show ID when you don't have probable cause is not probable cause that could let you ask for ID.
In addition, article 73 clearly states that you can withold ID until you are told which law you have purportedly broke:
73. A person may refuse to give his name and address or further information to confirm their accuracy so long as he is not informed of the offence alleged against him.
Of course, is now law was broken, there is no reason to ask for ID.
— Can I see the pictures?
— I do not consent to be searched.
— I an not searching you, I just want to see your pictures.
— I do not consent to be searched.
At that time, backup arrives; two cops get out from another cruiser and call her to speak to her. After about 2 minutes, I walk a bit closer, never letting my gaze get off the cops. The two cops talking don't look at me, whilst the third does (I studiously ignore him)
Then the policewoman turned to me and said that
— All is okay, you can go, enjoy the beautiful day.
— Enjoy it too; you should be on the beat, it will be good for your tan (she blushed).
— Oh, we can't do that, we have to answer the calls.
That's it. Total time, no more than 10 minutes. 15 minutes lost because of a douchebag city douche did not like that I was taking pictures of houses.
I hope the city of Montréal will bill Douchebag City for wasting the time of the police for nothing.
When you are right, and I was right, the cops cannot do anything to you. When you have done nothing wrong, they do not have the right to ask for identification.
If I had given them identification when first asked, I would have consended to have my civil rights violated. This is exactly what the cops expect of sheeple, to nibble bit by bit the civil liberties. By firmly asserting your rights you remind them that they are not gods who are above the laws.
They cannot search you either; they can forcefully search you only after you are arrested. Asking to see the pictures is nothing less than a search; consenting to a search when there is no probable cause is an abdication of one's civil rights.
Never, ever volunteer any information under any circumstances. Everything you say can be used against you. When the cops ask you something, and you did not ask for their help, **THEY ARE NOT THERE TO HELP YOU!!!**. You notice above that the chat was minimal, and was mostly to assert my rights. Actually, even the last chit-chat was superfluous — right now I am biting my lips for saying that.
You have absolutely no obligation to talk to the police whatsoever. Even when arrested, or rather, especially when arrested. They have the right to ask what they want, and you have the absolute right not to answer anything — but be careful because attitude and reaction are non-verbal communication.
Upon consultation of my counsel, I will see the avenues left to me. I suppose that I could involve the commission des droits de la personne, as I was obviously singled out because I was taking pictures or vecause I did not have a car.
And I will also militate within the Parti-Québécois to insure that when they get back to power, they will remerge all the cities in Montréal (that should not be too hard, the demergers are a fiasco in any case; the city as it is right now is practically ungovernable), in order to definitely eliminate Douchebag City and borg them back into Montréal, but this time, without the boroughs bullshit; it will be immensely satisfying to see them lumped with Park Extension immigrants…
I particularly recommend you watch those two videos: "never talk to the police" with Prof. James Duane and officer George Bruch, part 1 and part 2. It's 45 minutes in total, but it drives home the point; although this is in the United States, it fully applies to us too. This won't be 45 wasted minutes. And it will tell you why you should volunteer extra information to the cops.
* Never mind that I am flat-broke right now…
One precision: at no time whatsoever before or after the encounter with the douche or the cops have I ever set foot on private property. I was always on the sidewalk when I took my pictures except when I crossed a street.
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