Former CBC Radio host Jian Ghomeshi, centre, is escorted out of court after being released on bail in Toronto on Wednesday, November 26, 2014. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Darren CalabreseThe Canadian Press
It was not a perp walk, per se, but it may as well have been.
Sombre, silent and groomed, former CBC radio host Jian Ghomeshi reappeared in public from a mysterious exile after his father's death and a dispute with his employers over an allegation of sexual misconduct, which he denied. When we last heard from him in October, he was contending that he had a predilection for consensual sadomasochism, sounding like a misunderstood character from Fifty Shades of Grey. It seemed at the time that Navigator, the public relations firm he retained, could clean up his reputation with a few daubs of Tide To Go. Yet as women started coming forward with abuse allegations, one of the country's most celebrated voices had gone speechless. As Navigator sailed away from him in due haste, a chorus of disavowal echoed across the ether. He was alone.
On Wednesday, a different side of Mr. Ghomeshi emerged, one that only a month ago the country would have found unfathomable. This was not the beguiling Giller Prize host or the ubiquitous society-column fixture looking slyly askance into a camera. Instead, he was centre stage in the inhumane theatre of disgrace. Arriving at high noon. In the back of a police car. In handcuffs. And a handsome suit that spoke to onlookers like the last rites of dignity. His eyes swollen and encircled, his bottom lip sometimes bitten inward, Mr. Ghomeshi inched his way through a vast clutter of cameras. The officers surrounding him were dressed in canary-yellow jackets, as if expecting the one element that would complete this drama: rain.