The other day this creepy guy from Rogers came into the store with one of those god-awful mobile phone/camera dealies. He started walking around the store, inconspicuously snapping pictures of displays and shelves inside our establishment. I caught on immediately and both of us staff watched him closely to see what he was up to. He didn't seem like he was trying to do anything shifty other than the fact that he was being shifty about taking pictures.

Somehow, this event made me uneasy and has been bothering me over the last few days. I did a bit of thinking as to why this would bother me so and I came to realize that I value privacy-even of the corporate kind. It's not cool for someone to come into my house and take pictures of things I don't want photographed. Likewise, it's also not cool for someone to walk into my store and take snapshots without the permission of a qualified employee.

Delving a little deeper into my professional ethics courses, I thought about privacy rights and how refusing access to certain information can give the impression that a company has something to hide. My thought of the day hit me right at that moment: every company has something to hide.

It's a funny thought, really. People get huffy when they hear about a company that has cut some legal corner to save money. People get huffy when they think about a company acting in what they perceive to be an unethical manner. When it comes to capitalist corporations, people are just generally huffy.

Of course, companies have varying degrees of skeletons in their closets. Most are small potatoes - a human resources mishap or a few minor legalities ignored in order increase convenience. However, there are a few cases that are just too huge to let out of the bag.

For example, a large American corporation (who shall remain nameless) manufactured and installed a number of counting machines for the German government in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Unbeknownst to them, the machines would later be used to keep track of the millions of prisoners in Hitler's concentration camps. This information leaked out many years later and put the company in a tight spot. Of course, they apologized for any harm their technologies might have caused and did the best to cleanse the company's tarnished image. They did a pretty good job; most people have either forgotten or have never even heard the news.

Another fun example of companies needing to mask information comes from the recording industry. Record labels are often owned by larger corporations. In fact, there are four huge corporations that I can think of off the top of my head that own the lion's share of labels in America. The funny thing is what you can associate to these companies through mergers and joint ventures with various other entities. It's complicated, but each of those four companies has a relatively close tie to the U.S. military and the companies who manufacture the weapons that they use. So you could infer that artists like Nickelback and Avril Lavinge help to fund the production of combat simulators, mission planning systems, shock/vibration isolators, head-mounted display systems, and Tomahawk cruise missiles.

Those are just two examples of how corporations need to retain privacy in order to keep their public image favourable. In fact, I'm all for it. The population is better off without knowing these things. The economy, the way of life, and the sanity of the people demands censorship from certain things.

Frankly, I'm quite content for the world to be run behind the scenes by these huge corporations. This is to say that I would feel rather uncomfortable if the power was put in the hands of the people. I'd rather have my eyes blindfolded and be led around in relative safety than join a mindless, wild herd of sheep on an "enlightened" path of self-destruction.

So for the guy taking pictures in my store: Stop it. What are you trying to do, start a revolution?

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)

First off, let me thank you all in advance for your words of condolence with respect to the Shuckie issue. I have forwarded your kind words on to his family who remain terribly grief-stricken, but ever-so-slightly less so because of you.

A bit of news: Lina has opened up her blog to the public. Check it out by clicking this.

I couldn't help but notice that Bryan has retrofitted his room into a shrine to Sega games through the ages. Though I am extremely proud that the gamer in him is finally beginning to resurface, I do have to quibble about one thing. Wonderboy III simply cannot be the finest platformer of the 8-bit era because Super Mario Bros. 3 exists. I mean, come on! Did Wonderboy III have an awesome movie starring Fred Savage as its commercial? I didn't think so.

This all makes me begin to think back to the old days when so many game franchises seemed to have bright futures. In this day and age, companies seem to have forgotten to make sequels to some awesome franchises. In fact, I've compiled a top five list of franchises that I think need to be brought back and updated for the new generation. So in no particular order:

1. Star Tropics
I remember playing Star Tropics non-stop for about two weeks and enjoying every last minute of it. It was a pretty weird offering at first, blending RPG elements with yo-yo slinging action. Once you got going though, it was really hard to stop. The story got huge and bizarre, changing its focus from tropical marine life conservation to alien invasion. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this as a kid and would rather like to experience a suped-up version. I could just imagine what a next generation Star Tropics would be like. That would be crazy stuff!

2. Kid Icarus
Jumping around and shooting arrows at weird enemies was pretty cool back in the day. I imagine a new Kid Icarus game playing much like the recent Zelda games with limited flight ability. Give him a short sword for close combat but put an emphasis on pelting foes from distance with arrows and you could have a gem!

3. NiGHTS
I think every Sega fan will agree with me on this claim: the world needs a new NiGHTS game. The free-flying controls, the incredible level design, and the unbridled imagination of the NiGHTS world are all stuff of gamer legend and there has been something sorely lacking ever since. Sega's been teasing the fans with NiGHTS for years now... just go ahead and do it already!

4. Altered Beast
An awesome Devil May Cry style action game would suit Altered Beast just fine. Imagine being low on health, so you turn into a crazy werewolf and beat the crap out of your enemies. Not only that, but you could have options to change into other crazy werecreatures to give you certain advantages in combat.

5. Double Dragon
I don't think DD should ever go 3D. However, to make it appeal to a new audience the designers should make a lengthy quest with upgradable characters a focus. I think something like this would sell like crazy on the PS2, since that's where a lot of these old school style games are starting to find their way. One day, 2D is going to come back with a vengeance.

So that's my list. If you don't think this could happen, you only need to look as far as the re-invention of a few recent classic franchises. Metroid, Contra, Rygar, and Castlevania have all been successfully brought into the new generation of games in recent years. Hopefully someone can make my gamer dreams come true!

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)

Oddly enough, I've received words of praise for that last post. I thought I'd get negative responses, but a scary turn of events showed that people actually liked my Wrestlemania preview. I seem to be on a roll with this, so bearing that in mind I'll be answering another piece of fan-mail today.

My fan writes:

> Hey King Koop,
>
> How's it hanging? Wow, that was soooo cool that you answered MY e-mail in your blog... lol!!!
> That was totally awesome. You're totally awesome!! Seeing how you are so awesome, do you
> have a sidekick? If so, what does your sidekick do?
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Burtonium

Hey right back to you Burtonium. You're going to spoil me with all of these e-mails!

Though I must agree with your declaration of my awesomeness, I currently do not employ a sidekick. However, this was not always the case. I once had a sidekick whom I mentored and trained for many years. His name was Shuckie and I loved him dearly from the moment I took him under my wing.

You see, everything was fine for a time. I showed young Shuckie the ropes, teaching him the ways of the hero on the mean streets of Winnipeg. Yes, those were glorious days! All good things must come to an end though, and Shuckie's tenure with me would prove no different.

As with any great hero, I too have weaknesses. My righteous aura of awesomeness is both a blessing and a curse. Though it imbues me with powers that transcend even my own imagination, it affected young Shuckie in the worst way possible. Longing to be on the same level as his mentor, Shuckie set out to stamp his imprint on the world.

Unfortunately, he had just been watching some cartoon that had something to do with pizza, samurai, and felines. In it, he witnessed amazing feats of dare as these animated heroes fired themselves from a large cannon in order to facilitate travel to crime scenes. Always the impressionable youth, Shuckie immediately began construction of his own version of this hero-launching technology.

Finally came the day when Shuckie had completed his transport system and set off on his own to reach the next level in his quest to gain the approval of his mentor. I vividly remember the look of utter joy in his eye as Shuckie loaded himself into the cannon when he received his first distress signal. I can still hear the cute but shrill voice of his secretary announcing his departure to the populace of downtown Winnipeg. She exclaimed:

"Hey there villains, bright and plucky. Invert those grins 'cause here comes Shuckie!"

The large boom of the cannon signified Shuckie's arrival on the scene as a hero for the new age. However, Shuckie could not be seen hurtling through the skies toward a needy citizen. Instead, a dark blue cloud of smoke billowed from the cannon's mouth, coating nearby office buildings with a light coat of blue dust. Poor, unfortunate Shuckie now circulates through the ventilation systems of many downtown Winnipeg offices as a reminder to those who try to use his cannon ever again.

It seems that I too had to learn that with great power comes great responsibility. I now try to suppress my aura, so as to prevent a terrible tragedy from ever occurring again. As a tribute to our dearly departed Shuckie, I have not taken on a sidekick and am doing most of my adventuring on a solo basis.

For now I am reluctant to take on another sidekick. Of course, I would reconsider if the ideal candidate were to come along. He'd have to be invulnerable though, just in case he tries to blow himself up as well. Also, he should probably not be as easily influenced as stupi... I mean Shuckie.

Again, thanks for writing Burtonium! I hope this offers a bit of backstory and clears up some of the continuity problems that my writers have been having over the past few issues.

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)

Today I bring you a special treat: fan-mail! That's right, someone out there is reading!

In honor of my fan, I'd like to take this moment to answer his mail. Rest assured that I will do the same for anyone else who writes in, no matter how silly the question or scathing the remark.

My fan writes:

> Dear King Koop,
>
> I'm a huge fan of your blog. I have to say that you are totally awesome. I was wondering what your
> predictions are for Wrestlemania XX?
>
> Your devoted fan,
>
> Burtonium

Well Burtonium, I haven't been watching much WWE lately. In fact, I'm about as clueless about what's going on in the WWE as Mr. Ochmonek was about what was going on next door to him. But I do have inside sources that tell me what's going to happen.

*** SUPREME SPOILER ALERT ***

Alright, so this is how things are going to go down. After the mandatory boring opening match, we see backstage footage of Mae Young going into labour. Somehow, she miraculously gives birth to Shane McMahon (fully clothed, of course) because Vince Russo is totally writing. As the second match progresses, we are given word that Shane has in fact given birth to the Big Show. Almost immediately, Big Show runs to the kitchen to bake a cake... but as he gets ready to eat it, he realizes that he has in fact created Vince McMahon from cake batter. Are you still following?

So Vince is angry with Shane again, but mainly because he's his son's grandchild now. Immediately, another McMahon family feud begins with Stephanie backing her father and Linda backing Big Show. Shane's on his own.

Elsewhere, the APA are hanging out as Hulk Hogan and Macho Man Randy Savage burst onto the scene beating the stuffing out of one another. For some reason, Macho can't stop rapping and Hogan can only say the word "brother". The fight continues until the Ultimate Warrior shows up and absorbs Hogan, becoming the Hulkimate Warrior. The combined powers of the 80's idols are too much for Macho, who in defeat turns to hang out with the APA. They merely respond: "No, man. Damn!"

The Hulkimate Warrior rampages through the backstage, destroying all in his path including Big Show's newly-baked pineapple upside-down cake. This enrages the giant and he confronts the Hulkimate one. Unfortunately for Show, the Warrior is too powerful and promptly absorbs the world's largest athlete.

Shortly thereafter, a menacing figure appears in the ring and proclaims himself to be "the most awesome force in the universe, brother". He introduces himself as the Hulkimate Showior. As the audience quakes in fear, the McMahons make their way to ringside and begin to quadruple-team the menace. Things look dire for the first family of wrestling, when suddenly we hear J.R. from the announce table stutter "Good God King! Look! It's Robocop! Robocop has come to save the WWE!" Indeed, Robocop has come to save the WWE from the Hulkimate Showior. He runs into the ring and hits the Showior with a Robostunner. 1-2-3! The winner and new champion of everything is... Stone Cold Steve Austin? The pay-per-view goes off the air as Robocop removes his helmet and J.R. seemingly has a heart attack while he screams "STONE COLD! STONE COLD! ROBOCOP IS THE DAMN RATTLES...STO...C-C-C...AUSTIN!"

*** SUPREME SPOILER END ***

Sounds like a kick-ass Wrestlemania to me! I hope that answers your question, Burtonium. Thanks for writing!

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)

One thing I love about this household is how utterly acceptable late-night snacking is. At the moment, I'm very much enjoying a dish known in my immediate family as "wires". Mainly, it consists of leftover spaghetti noodles, pan-fried until crisp and crunchy. You might think it bland - and to some degree it is. However, the greasy, crunchy, blandness of it all is nearly as addictive as heroin. Go figure. The other day I endeavored to top my wires with a combination of spaghetti sauce and sausage. This resulted in a freaking Woodstock in my mouth to which I wanted to invite everyone, but the sheer spontaneity of it all made that impossible.

Having rested over the last few days, I have settled myself down a little since the last time you heard from me. I did in fact mean every word I said on Sunday, but I suppose it's alright to play the waiting game for now. I suppose I've been seeing so many people changing their lives around me that it makes me want to leap right out and grab the bull by the horns... only there are no bulls in my pasture at the moment. I realize that it's only a matter of time and I happen to have plenty of that.

I'm thankful for the amount of stability that I have in my life. It's stability that makes this all truly bearable. I liken it to having solid concrete under my feet - no surprises, no tricks. If that sounds comforting, believe me it is. It gives me a stable platform on which to build the house of cards that is life. I take solace in that and it gives me strength.

So what I'm saying is that things are cool - at least for now. I'll just keep plugging away, doing what I do best. At least, until Sunday rolls around. The Lord only knows what Sunday is going to bring for me. Oh, those Sunday Bloody Sundays...

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)

I'm starting to dread Sundays. Isn't it supposed to be the day of rest? I for one don't feel rested by Sundays. They seem to weigh down on me, making me long for the rest of the week. Today was no better and it's placed me in an utterly somber mood.

I must say that I grow more and more uncomfortable with my situation as each week passes. I have in fact been out of school since August, with very little opportunity to "break out" into the real world. As I see it now, I am not a part of it. I currently hold a very trivial place in the grand scheme of society and I'm just not comfortable with this.

See, I always envisioned myself coming out of school and hitting the ground running. I've seen others do it right along side me. That didn't exactly happen in my case. In fact, I think I hit the ground with a resounding thud, rolling with the approximate momentum of a banana slug stumbling home from the pub. So here I stand - stationary and seemingly immobile. Needless to say, I've more than worn out my welcome at the place where I currently stand. I just can't do a thing about it, which is really the tough part to swallow.

This is not to say that I hate my job. I like the people I work with. I like the atmosphere that shines through the whole company - nevermind the store. I'm very grateful to those responsible for the opportunity that I've recently been given. It's nice to be rewarded for the hard work I've put forth over the last few years. However, this is about as far as I can go. It's an odd spot to be in, because I can't move up any further and sliding back down after my term is up is both unacceptable and detrimental to the plan. I just pray that everything will be sorted out come July.

I suppose the only way to deal with the state of things is to stay positive. Indeed, Cockburn was right when he said that "nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight". There is very little that I can do at this point other than to heed his advice and "kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight". Let's just hope that Cockburn speaks from good experience.

To quote a great Irishman: "Look, I've got to go - I'm running out of change. There's a lot of things that if I could I'd rearrange."

- Colin (invincibleironman@hotmail.com)