Deranged ConU Lifer Hijacks Campus Media, Uses Student Funds to Finance East-End Media Empire

Graphic Jayde Nordstrom

After months of bad press, public embarrassments and conspiracy theories, Community University Television went quiet.

But despite cleaning house and restructuring management, save for the lone cameraman live-streaming CSU council meetings through his MacGyvered tape-cassette camera set-up, the TV station seems to have piped down once again.

Or has it?

While all remains quiet on the campus front, a new arm of the station is rising up in the east—sort of.

The station’s former self-described “Supreme Leader” Rafe Aloof staged a coup on the station last month and has since stolen what was left of the station’s funds—roughly $10 million in fee levy funds and excavated Hall Building gold—and has deposited them in an offshore bank account nestled within the Cayman Islands.

In a recent video broadcast from “headquarters,” Aloof described the need for a “popular uprising of new media under my supreme guidance.”

“We will create here a citizen media empire that will rival and ultimately destroy the vile, lame-stream media,” said a disheveled Aloof, in reference to media outlets he doesn’t like.

“Far from the clutches of the equally biased corporate student press, too.”

Aloof was last spotted near the Pie-IX metro station with a live-stream backpack strapped to his shoulders, carrying grocery bags full of wires, a microphone and a camera.

“He seems to think that he can run the station on his own,” said a concerned staff member who asked not to be named, admitting his fear of Aloof’s seeming instability made him weary to speak out.

“It’s really weird. Last I saw him he was chasing a police officer on a bicycle down de Maisonneuve, screaming about brutality and waving on imaginary comrades.”

Aloof has since holed up in an east-end loft and over the past two weeks has begun producing short videos documenting the “rebirth of the station.”

In one such video, Aloof can be seen caressing his camera in a dimly lit room, alone and muttering, “don’t shoot the puppy” and “my precious.”

In a recent interview, Aloof appeared deceivingly calm and explained that the station was doing great, funds were pouring in, and that he and his team were projecting a $80-million profit and CRTC licensing by September.

NOTE: This is spoof content. All characters and events in this article—even those based on real people—are entirely fictional.