Never one to oppose frivolous impulse spending, your dear author has never had any qualms about, say, dropping $40 for a stuffed Jason Voorhees doll. Or $70 for a horrendously overpriced Shock Suspen-Stories Volume 2. Or about a week's paycheque for the entire HBO Tales From the Crypt DVD collection, which is still buried under a ton and a half of packing peanuts at the time of this writing. And while some of my esteemed colleagues may say that I'm otherwise missing a few teeth off the main sprocket, what with all the currency I've thrown down the tubes over the last few years, I remain quietly unphased. Spending money on useless crap makes me feel good. And it makes me a good little drudge in the eyes of our vicious consumer culture overlords.

So getting royally screwed while purchasing a twenty-year-old Ninja Turtles comic? Hardly something to lose sleep over. Granted, I probably could've gotten the same issue for a dollar or so off Ebay with little to no effort. But I would've had to pay for shipping -- which, I admit, wouldn't have cost more than a couple of bucks at most. But then again, I would've had to wait a week or two for the thing to arrive. Which would have taken considerably less time if I'd opted for Expedited Shipping. Which I usually do. So, uhh...Yeah. I got screwed.

But it's a good kind of 'screwed.' You know, the kind that makes you sort of regret being taken advantage of in the most basic and vile way, but still pretty pleased with the resulting aftermath. Not unlike that time you were drunk and in college, and there was that one attractive freshman with the neat Ramses tattoo under her left...

Knee.

Ha. Anyhow, fifteen bucks for the above mentioned issue. (Which, incidentally, is what I paid Ms. Ramses. True story.) To the best of my knowledge, no individual in recorded history has ever spent more than $4 for TMNT #9, and with a two-decade old sticker price of $1.50, I'm pretty sure that means Pendragon Comics charged me 1000% more than they had any right to.

But I digress. Fifteen bucks spent on Ninja Turtles is fifteen bucks well spent in my book, and "The Passing" is one of those great TMNT issues from back when the franchise (if you could even call it that) was just getting on its feet. This was 1986; no cartoon, no action figures, and no feature films. Just a whole bunch of gritty, quirky tales written in classic Eastman and Laird fashion, beautifully rendered in eye-catching black and white.

Now while TMNT #9 isn't the strongest issue in terms of visuals and layout -- some of the panels do seem a little weak compared those in previous issues -- the storyline is class. The book opens with a harrowing samurai battle in pre-industrial Japan, where we find a young Asian man lost amidst the chaos looking quite peculiar in his NYU t-shirt and matching boxer shorts. The helpless time traveller spies a legion of flag-toting warriors just before he awakes in his bed in present day New York City, screaming bloody murder. It seems his dreams have been haunted lately by this recurring vision of battle in a faraway land.

Cut across town to what we learn are the "Pre-Teenage" Mutant Ninja Turtles, who are busy practicing their fight techniques under the watchful gaze of Master Splinter. The grizzled old rat chastises Donatello for his weak blocking thrusts and then scuttles off to meditate, where he feels "a presence on the astral plane" -- sort of like gaydar, I assume, only more mystical. With a little effort, Splinter manages to make contact with an elderly Japanese man who, lying sick in his death bed, has been reaching out spiritually to anyone who might be listening.

The old man explains that the spirit force of the great Gosei samurai clan has been passed down from father to son throughout time. Now it's his time to pass it along to his son, Kenji, but he lives in New York City and has turned to evil, heading up the notorious Goseico, Inc. crime syndicate and doing all sorts of nasty wheelings and dealings. The man hopes instead to pass the spirit force on to his grandson, before he too is swept up in a life of crime and the bushido spirit of their ancient clan is lost forever.

So Splinter and the old man switch bodies -- easy peasy lemon squeezy -- and Hatsumi, in his temporary rodent avatar, hurries downtown to find his grandson and bestow upon him the way of the warrior. Accompanied by a quartet of young terrapin ninjas, natch.

How does it all turn out? Does the grandson finally accept his ancestor's spirits? Do the turtles beat up a bunch of gun-toting ninja guards? Does the old Japanese fart die happily ever after? You'll have to drop $15 on your very own overpriced copy of "The Passing" to find out -- or $40 on the new collected book, which includes the story in question.

Or, you know, read the entire issue online. Whatever.

By now, Nintendo's Wii console should need no introduction. Despite a few initial hurdles and ostensibly being named after male genitalia (apparently Nintendo Lil' Winky, Baby Maker and Bald-Headed Giggle Stick were also in contention), the console single-handedly revived Nintendo's sagging fortunes following the Gamecube's lacklustre performance and has quickly become the home console sales leader both here and abroad, with over thirty million units sold at $249.99 a pop.

In fact, despite being on the market for a full two years now, Wii consoles are still every bit as hard to find on store shelves as they were back in 2006, a fact made all the more hilarious by the sight of homeless people melting down PlayStation 3 consoles for warmth during the Holiday season. 'Tis the nature of the beast, I suppose. Fortunes can turn quickly in an industry as large and multi-faceted as this one, and though Sony unequivocally won the hardware battle last time around, companies who rest on their laurels too long often get a swift kick in the pants for their complacency.

Along with all the third-party, third-rate shovelware (of which there is an alarming amount), the Wii boasts a lineup of truly sensational titles like Super Mario Galaxy, Metroid Prime 3, Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Okami, and more. Still, for many gamers, the decision to jump to Nintendo's platform was not only influenced by the promise of new and unique gameplay experiences -- the kind Nintendo has built its entire marketing campaign around -- but also by the lure of games long since past. While the Virtual Console hasn't quite reached its goal of being "the greatest video game archive in history," as Nintendo once put it, there's still a lot to like about having a digital copy of your favourite NES or Super NES classics ready to play whenever you boot up your Wii.

Video game purists will likely still have their old Nintendo consoles, and even with the cleanliness and convenience of being able to download classic games right to your Wii, nothing really beats digging out a twenty-year-old piece of gaming history and dusting it off for a few rounds of Duck Hunt. The beauty of Nintendo's service then? Being able to catch up on a whole lot of awesome games that flew under the radar back when you were a little less savvy about your video game purchases.

First up: Mega Man 2. One of those games that earned its classic status ages ago and yet, for some reason or another, I never got around to playing, MM 2 was released for the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1989 and became a bestseller virtually overnight. Featuring an endearingly bare-bones plot about an evil Dr. Wily and his eight rampaging robots, the game thrusts players into the action as Mega Man (known as Rock Man in Japan, oddly enough), an advanced humanoid cyborg championed by Dr. Light. Players jump, shoot, run, climb, skid and fly through a series of stages, each one culminating in a final showdown with one of Dr. Wily's bad-ass bots; defeat the boss and his signature weapon (or ability) becomes available to you.

Success depends on your ability to use each weapon wisely during the course of the game to tackle foes that might previously have been too difficult or to reach areas once thought off-limits. Can't handle that pesky Wood Man? Backtrack to Metal Man's stage and swipe his Metal Blades -- that arboreal asshole won't stand a chance. Can't seem to reach that 1-Up? Equip the platform powerup and simply hop your way there. It's this type of revolutionary, non-linear gameplay that made Mega Man 2 a breath of fresh air twenty years ago, and it still works well today.

As for presentation, Mega Man 2 wins points for some clever level design and clean, crisp graphics. To be honest, while these aren't the best visuals to come out of the 8-bit era, they're still pretty damn spectacular for the time period. Likewise, I can point to a few other NES games whose soundtracks rise superior, but these tunes definitely fit the mood and tone of the game and are catchy enough to merit your attention.