I pledge my allegiance not to the U.S. of A, not to my adopted homeland, Canada, and no, not to the Freemasons. My loyalty lies with an electric rodent. A cadmium yellow, thunderbolt-throwing, ass-bustin' mouse with a three word vocabulary. My heart belongs to Pikachu. If you have not been watching afternoon television, reading the newspaper, or perusing the internet for the past year, you may have no idea what the fuck I am talking about. Sucks to be you. Have you even been to Burger King in the last 57 days? No? Alright, you ain't hip to the Pokemon scene. I'm not going to explain it to you. It's a personal journey. I can't explain why I became obsessed, it happened really quickly and I wasn't the only person affected by its powerful life-leeching vortex. I think it started with me and Greg both thinking it would be a good idea to go see the Pokemon movie on acid- like we would have if we were in Grade 10 and not just acting like it. You'd be surprised the shit we can get our hands onbut not that. So we were bummed about not being able to see the movie- yet.

Not willing to let it end at that, I said, "Man, I want to get the gameboy game!" It was then I realized, I didn't have a gameboy- never did. No bother. I had a credit card and a mission. Greg and I walked to Bathurst and paid a visit to Microplay where I picked up the special Pikachu edition color gameboy complete with game. $160 later, the obsession was in full swing. I busted it out of the box and began playing on the street. I can't remember the exact date- but it was the day of the Scotland vs. England game and I was pissed that I couldn't go watch it at The Duke of Gloucester because it had "sold out"- what the fuck?! Anyhoo, the gameboy was a more than divine substitute. Greg and I play on the same saved game, we have logged more than 28 hours. Greg got kicked out of his house for not returning the Pokemon- Thundershock! video to Blockbuster and incurring $25 in late charges. That only meant more time at my house playing the game and searching Pokemon game tip sites for hints and tricks.

Then came Burger Kings amazing Kid's Club toys. I don't eat meat but I found myself ordering the chicken tenders every few days just to get my palms around a red and white pokeball. (And I'd just like to say that even if I WERE a kid, that is not enough food to sustain life for even 25 minutes. In fact, Greg would like to add a "so true!" to that.) We'd look over to the other tables- happy children holding their new Squirtle, Jigglypuff or Tangela. They were enviable little jewels and we became slightly jealous. Burger King doesn't let you buy the toys separately no matter HOW long you harrass and harangue them and refill your soda 96 times. Frankly, it's bollocks.

The next week, I went to New York for American Thanksgiving and hung out with my mom. The first night I was there she handed me an article before she retired for the evening (I can't go to sleep before 5AM or so) - the article was about this website where you can kill Pikachu in a myriad of horrible and unmentionable ways. It had pictures. I began to cry. This was seriously fucked. I am 19!!! I was crying over a cartoon mouse and how adults can be so bloody cruel about things that weren't designed for them. Living out fantasies of murdering something so innocent that it so important to their child is so disturbing to me that I wanted to beat people up to save my beloved anime mouse. I vented my frustration to my mom the next day, and while she doesn't share my obsession, she whole-heartedly agreed with the sentiment. That day we went to Toys R' Us so I could peep the merchandise. Nothing too mind-boggling, perhaps I'm jaded. I was contented with my $6.99 stationary set.

When I flew back to Toronto, I was greeted by Greg, already in my house somehow, and a Pokemon window decal set from my good pal, April. (A week earlier she had bought me Pokemon pasta in a can and I attempted to catch them all in my spoon with little success). Upon checking my email, I learned that Kleenex Girl Wonder's own Graham Smith was also all up on the Pokemon tip. He offered this piece of information on the subject-

"I enjoy Pokemon and Pokemon related merchandise. I will extend this offer to everyone in the world: if you send a Pokemon Burger King toy (except Gengar, I already have that one) to 113 N. Butler St. Apt. 2 / Madison WI / 53703 I will write a song about you. I need the toys to bail my fruity ass out of a lawsuit I got into because I couldn't keep my wise-cracking mouth shut. Thank you for your help."

Where am I going with this? Oh yeah. Pikachu is undeniably adorable. I don't like the cartoon because nostalgia for Saturday morning, pancake-eating days of old is hip. I don't like Pokemon because of kitsch. Pokemon is da bomb shiz-nit. Word is born.

Elizabeth Mann