We made this picture for our last Rahim Jaffer story. We didn't know at the time there were ACTUAL STRIPPERS INVOLVED.

Last week, the Order of Canada was given out to new a crop of worthy Canadians for their tireless efforts over their lifetimes to making Canada and the world a better place.

Clara Hughes won for being good at finishing third at speedskating. Marc Kielburger won for being a sexy do-gooder who all the undergrad global studies majors want to sleep with. Willie O’Ree won for being a black hockey player, although I saw one article call him both a “ex-NHL star” and “NHL legend” in the first 2 sentences alone, which is pretty fucking high praise for a guy who had 4 goals in his entire 45-game NHL career. (You see, without Willie O’Ree, mainstream white America might never have learned that black athletes aren’t all Jackie Robinson – they can be mediocre too, and can be just as mediocre as below-average white players. I HAVE A DREAM, where people of all races can aspire to be a third-string suitcase-toting career-journeyman plug!)

However, one Order of Canada was missing.

The Order of Canada for Political Comedy should have gone to Rahim Jaffer.

The former MP’s continuing scandal of booze, coke, strippers, mobsters and Tories is just getting better and better, and after the Star wrote this fantastically detailed hit-job which deserves a million Pulitzers, there’s literally nothing else a Canadian political satire blog can write about.

It’s hard to pick apart something so ridiculous, let alone a story so fast-moving – by the time it’s taken us to get to this (SHUTUP WE WERE ON VACATION AND SUPER BUSY OK) Guergis has already resigned, and we’re still talking about the strippers! We feel like has-beens even writing about news that’s so old that the public has already swallowed, digested and excreted it into a thin, brown politics-turd. But come on. This story. This Goddamn story.

I’ll try to pull out some individually funny parts, but really, dwelling on the specifics of such a masterpiece would be like focusing on a singular brushstroke of a Van Gogh.

This Naz Gillani fellow is just spectacular. With the Toronto FC tracksuit, the cocaine orgies at stripclubs, the motley crew of shady associates like a rogue gallery in the 60s Batman series, the Tony Montana mansion, the Napoleon Complex tough-guy posturing, all wrapped up in a man who looks more like a driving instructor than a rampaging conman, he’s like a perfect caricature of a bumbling sitcom mob villain.

In the old Batman series, each villain would have a comically specific persona. He couldn’t just be a bad guy who did bad things – he’d be something stupid like The Mad Fisherman, and he’d live in a fishing hut surrounded by henchmen dressed as fish, and his diabolical plan would be to slowly dangle Robin over a shark tank as bait while shouting shitty puns like “Oh Batman, it seems you’re always FISHing for compliments!” (Actually, the character I just made up sounds pretty fuckin’ cool.) Anyways, everyone on Naz’s crack squad of mobsters also had an oddly specific job – an ex-CFL player who served as the muscle, a mysterious Chinese businessman who probably spoke in vague Confucius proverbs as their gateway to the Orient, and Rahim Jaffer, a disgraced former MP married to a disgraceful current MP as their “politics guy”. If a task came up that couldn’t be fixed with hookers, crushing football tackles or ancient Eastern wisdom, Rahim’s job would be to apply his now-tenuous political connections. Securing funding, getting legal issues swept under the carpet – all that inside-man double agent stuff.

To that end, Rahim – a man who lost an election two years ago, putting him out of a job or any kind of power – was still trying to whore his non-existent influence. He handed out his old MP businesscards, and had a stack of Helena “Happy Fucking Birthday” Guergis cards in his car. It’s almost sad, in a way – politics was all Rahim knew, and when he was stripped of his job through entirely legitimate means, he still needed to cling to the old life. It’s like when you see Mr. T, a man who hasn’t had a legitimate acting job in about 25 years, and he’s still shouting A-Team catchphrases for teenagers at comic book conventions and showing up to cut ribbons at car dealerships wearing enough gold to give Russell Oliver The Cashman an orgasm (local reference!)

Also, there’s the fact that the mysterious “Chinese venture” involved a plan to turn solid waste into energy, which is fantastic for a party known for turning shit into political energy.

Also funny: Rahim Jaffer got stripsearched by some two-bit Mayberry sheriff department deputy. I repeat, he got stripsearched, just like in the movies! Some underpaid government employee had to cup Rahim Jaffer’s naked balls in their latex-clad hands to search for cocaine, a man who just a couple of years ago held one of the highest positions in government power! Honestly, if your job was to stripsearch Rahim Jaffer, would you ever stop washing your hands again?

Also funny: the kingpin, Naz, had a hooker lady-friend he called his fiancee. That’s almost kinda sad! Y’see, the job of a hooker is to make you think she likes you, in much the same way a magician’s job is to make you believe he can make doves fly out of his ass on command. The Star, who we’ve previously noted deserve at least a million Pulitzers for this story, actually NAMES THE HOOKER INVOLVED! That’s right, the hooker who was partying with a former Member of Parliament is… JASMINE, from the high-class escort service Cachet Ladies! (Note: if you’re unsure of the difference between a hooker and an escort, an escort is generally a hooker that costs about a hundred bucks more. Other differences are negligable.) Here’s how she looks (NOTE: obviously NSFW, are you serious, it’s a hooker’s website, I’d put some sort of anti-virus condom over my entire computer before even clicking the link to prevent your computer from getting some gross screen-spread STD) in case you were wondering. Aw, Naz thinks he’s gonna marry this cute lady, despite the fact that I can currently pay $4,000 per day to have this blushing bride-to-be perform indescribably obscene sex acts on me!

Anyways, the gist of the Star’s point is that Rahim is getting off easy so he can snitch on all of his mob buddies, which is somehow more embarrassing than just taking the fall. You can tell that Rahim would be everyone’s bitch in jail. He can’t go in there, man. They’ll turn your Life Saver into Bubble Tape on the first night.

Rahim’s wife has since lost her job, in a strange form of shame that can surpass even the shame from this.

Happy Fucking Retirement From Politics to Canada’s sweethearts, Rahim and Helena!

[Story: Star]