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It's going to be one of the biggest media events to hit this country in a decade. Bigger than any election. Bigger than Afghanistan, bird flu and a Rolling Stones tour combined.
When Robert Pickton goes to trial late this month - the first of two trials for the man accused of being Canada's most prolific serial murderer - he'll move beyond mere infamy to full-blown celebrity.
More than 300 journalists from around the world will cover the trial and stalk the families of his alleged victims for more tear-stained statements of outrage. It's going to be ugly, but there's not much anyone can do to contain it.
Some will try, regardless. Recently, a coalition of agencies working with street people and prostitutes in Vancouver's Downtown Eastside - the home of many of Pickton's alleged victims - asked media outlets to stop using Pickton's name in their coverage of the trials.
"Notoriety is well-known to be a driving factor as far as motive within the accused person's choices when committing these crimes," the coalition said in a press release.
Nobody in the media tent has yet taken up the coalition's appeal.
I wouldn't hold my breath.
Pretrial publicity alone has made Pickton one of the most infamous figures in Canadian criminal history, regardless of what the jury concludes.
He's already the subject of a quickie slasher exploitation film, Killer Pickton - likely not coming to a screen near you any time soon. If he's convicted, he'll be the subject of numerous true-crime books and TV specials. You can't be accused of killing 26 women and maintain a low profile.
In other words, the damage has been done. Pickton is a media figure. But was the damage actually damaging? Do serial killers start their bloody work, in part, out of a wish to be famous? And will Pickton's trial inspire fresh atrocities?
It's a good question, one which nobody knows how to answer. "A cult of personality sometimes forms around (serial killers)," said Ron Hinch, dean of criminology at the University of Ontario Institute of Technology.
He's written about serial murder. He thinks everyone accused of serious crimes should remain nameless in the press until the verdict - to protect the innocent and ensure fair trials.
"Look at Henry Lee Lucas, singing like a canary down in Texas and revelling in the media attention," he said. "Or John Wayne Gacy making money from selling his clown paintings. Some serial killers, not all of them, glory in their infamy."
"Some serial killers track (their press). Some don't," said Hinch's colleague Hannah Scott. "Some are indifferent to it.
"Publicity creates a model for (prospective serial killers) to follow. Most of these people are mundane, unremarkable people - the most remarkable thing about them is the pleasure they take in killing people."
Kevin Buckler agrees, up to a point. "There's no evidence of a direct copycat effect," said the professor of justice studies at Georgia State University. "The research suggests a small percentage of the population may have a predisposition to this kind of violence, and may find media reports of serial murder inspiring.
"But generally these people are more influenced by the details of the acts themselves - they get their ideas from the terror and pain of the victims, not the identity of the killer."
So the real problem isn't Pickton's celebrity - it's the publicity surrounding the crimes themselves which may draw the next copycat killer out of the shadows. Granted, some killers do get a kick out of their dark celebrity. Every high-profile multiple murder trial draws huge crowds of trial tourists and groupies, some of whom concoct romantic attachments to the monster in the dock.
There's still a brisk Internet trade in serial murder memorabilia, despite government efforts to choke it off. Gacy made more than $100,000 from his creepy paintings before his execution. Charles Ng, convicted in the deaths of 11 people, sold origami.
Ultimately, said Scott, the responsibility rests with the media, and not solely with the justice system. Thanks to the Internet, bans on publishing evidence aren't as watertight as they used to be. But every media outlet covering Pickton will still have to make the call: whether to report every ghastly detail of the deaths of 26 women, or hold back.
"Serial murder is very, very rare, and we have to be careful not to panic people," she said. "But the media does have to answer a question:
"If reporting the details of these crimes causes one person - just one - to act out on their impulses, is it really worth it?"