Would anyone be surprised if new footage emerges of Justin Trudeau dressed in brownface and faking an Indian accent — “Hull-oohh!” — while sprinting through the frame and pulling a rickshaw full of naan and kebobs?

Nope. No Canadian would be surprised. Not after this week. What are we up to now? Three? Four? One thousand? It’s bonkers. Justin Trudeau has been captured on camera as a brown man more times than either one of my dead grandfathers, who were actually brown men. I laughed on Thursday watching a clip of Trudeau telling reporters he’s not sure if more photos exist of him in brownface or blackface.

“I think, um, it is obvious that this is something that was deeply regrettable,” he said. “I am wary of, of, ah, being definitive about this because the recent pictures that came out I had not remembered.”

Imagine the reaction if a husband tried to wiggle out of personal scandal with such a mealy-mouthed apology: Honey, the lipstick you found on my, ah, collar is, um, obviously deeply regrettable. Have I cheated on you before? I’m wary of being definitive because the recent stain you found I had not remembered.

“Deeply regrettable” also makes it sound like this was out of his control, like he was a young fellow minding his own business and skipping merrily down the street when thugs jumped out from behind a bush and violently coloured in his face.

This guy has a lot of nerve. I’ll give him that. Standing in front of the cameras and claiming amnesia, furrowing his brow and acting like it’s the media that was being unreasonable, as if reporters were peppering him with queries about what he had for lunch on a random Tuesday around Y2K.

First of all, in those images, it’s not as if Mahatma Trudeau just brushed on a few swipes of boot polish. The application of his “makeup” was so spectacular, he deserves an endorsement deal with L’Oréal. Did you see that first photo, the one Time published on Wednesday? Trudeau is dressed up as Aladdin for an “Arabian Nights” party at a private school where he taught subjects that presumably did not include Inappropriate Costumes and Racism 101.

Except for his eyeballs and teeth, every visible part of his body — hands, arms, neck — is evenly darkened. Unless he put on goggles and turned an industrial spray gun on himself, there is no way this didn’t take hours.

I have paid pros to detail my car who were not as meticulous.

In the blackface video obtained by Global, Trudeau even tinted his leg skin, at least the parts visible through the rips in his jeans. I guarantee you, if this scandal escalates and some kind of blackface-sex-tape hybrid hits the internet, we will be horrified to discover he once even tinted his private parts.

Then we’ll have to bleach our eyes.

And ram sharp objects into our ears if he’s still garbling lame mea culpas.

I don’t get it. Since taking office, Trudeau has issued more official apologies than Drake and Taylor Swift have released new music. And you know what? He can sound really sincere and articulate when he’s saying sorry for stuff he never did. Get him waxing ruefully about the Komagata Maru incident or residential schools or the 1939 betrayal of German Jews seeking asylum or colonialism and you be will be moved. You will believe that he believes what he’s saying.

But start asking questions about an alleged groping incident or multiple instances in which he thought it was perfectly fine to dunk his head in a barrel of oil and ham it up as a fake visible minority and suddenly Trudeau is shrugging and staring into the middle distance like a man accused of stealing his own identity.

You don’t believe that he believes what he’s saying.

You get the feeling he’s talked his way out of many jams in the past.

That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a racist — but it does suggest he is a narcissist.

When I look at those photos, I honestly don’t see malice or evil intent. I see ignorance. I see a jackass. I see a blowhard who craves attention. I see a giddy fool entombed inside a charmed life. I see a young punk who can’t possibly understand how or why brownface or blackface might really hurt people with real brown and black faces. I see a charlatan in the making, a handsy goof turned preachy world leader, forever careening from one PC lane to the next, virtue-signalling while “not remembering” the police flashers now blazing in his rearview mirror.

That might be the most galling part of watching Trudeau get hoisted on his own petard this week. Is there any buzzword or idea from the identity-politics crowd Trudeau has not championed? If a few people on Twitter claimed shoes are cultural appropriation, he’d finish this election campaign barefoot.

Mr. Diversity has blackface skeletons in his closet?

That’s like discovering Marie Kondo is a secret hoarder.

“I have always acknowledged that I come from a place of privilege,” said Trudeau on Thursday, as his Sunny Ways descended into darkness. “But I now need to acknowledge that comes with a massive blind spot.”

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There he goes again, blaming his actions on a faceless system.

What Justin Trudeau will never acknowledge is that he is a hypocrite.

Something like that, um, ah, yeah, it just can’t be remembered.

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