We all make a bad investment at some point in our lives: a fancy car that we can't really afford, a time share, an ill-advised zeppelin that it turns out we don't have the time or monocles to use properly. But there are bad investments, and there are these: billion-dollar projects that entire governments just got bored of and abandoned, leaving the rest of us some pretty bitchin' post-apocalyptic playsets, if we can just get past the guards.
(After this, trade in horrifying ghost towns for horrifying online dating profiles with Cracked's new series Rom.Com.)
In 1997, Moscow decided to build a huge indoor water park. So they set aside a large tract of land and started a construction project that went on for five years before they got distracted by a passing butterfly and skipped away, never to return.
A butterfly flaps its wings in Moscow, a building collapses ... also in Moscow.
Originally built for the World Youth Games, the listing of its proposed facilities proves that they spared no expense, nor any fucks given for the finished product. The water park was supposed to house a 12-story glass roof, three underground floors, an additional nine floors above ground, five swimming pools complete with water slides, and a track and field (water ... field?).
Trash aside, it still has less pee in it than your average water park.
It was also supposed to house something called the "Palace of Sports," which was a hotel for visiting athletes that itself contained offices, cafes, and a center for physical therapy and medicine. Now it's just a hell of a place to shoot zombies. Seriously, hole up on that diving board; those steep stairs are a great place to bottleneck and ... ahem, we're getting carried away here.
And if you're cornered, just dive headfirst into bare concrete.
Unfortunately, construction of the park ran into a few problems, the main one being that the World Youth Games were in 1998, and construction of this massive water park didn't start until 1997. Needless to say, time wasn't on their side, and it didn't make the cut for the World Youth Games. But construction pressed on for four more years into 2002, at which point they finally had to admit that, no matter how awesome the board, one cannot dive backward through time.
Tetanus? Yes. Time? No.
Eventually the land was bought in 2007, in order to ... apparently do nothing with, since it's all still sitting there today. We would like to humbly suggest paintball.
The place could use the paint.
Ah, North Korea. There are probably a dozen projects that the world's most delusional nation could have contributed to this article, but we're going with the empty city of Kijong-dong. Not only does nobody live here, but nobody was ever meant to.
No one was meant to die there, either.
Kijong-dong is one of only two "settlements" that exist within the Demilitarized Zone (the 4-mile-wide buffer zone that exists solely to keep the two Koreas from an endless slap fight that would destroy the world as we know it). Despite North Korea's claims that Kijong-dong is a 200-family farming community, the town only serves as an illusion designed to showcase how "great" and "modern" life is in North Korea to the South Koreans who are surely watching from their telescopes, just itching to defect. But it's all for show: In reality, most of it is completely empty and unused.
The watchtowers don't even have part-time guards.
Kijong-dong is one of the nicer townships in North Korea (that's not hard to pull off, considering the rest of the country is basically a video game level that hasn't rendered yet) because it was built to convince South Koreans that life in the North was super great. We're not sure if it's funny or just plain sad that the mirage the North Koreans built to try to trick everybody into believing paradise lies just across the border looks like the saddest, crappiest farming town we've ever seen, while parts of South Korea look an anime version of The Jetsons.
Justin Paul Barrass
"Whatever, dicks -- The Flintstones was better."
What appear to be citizens walking about, attending to their daily lives, are actually actors put there to give the impression that the city is occupied. Each day they are bussed in, and each night they are bussed out. They can't stay at the village itself because, although it appears to be complete from a distance, all the buildings are giant hollow shells, lacking interior walls, floors, and windows. They do have electric lighting (something lacking in much of North Korea) in order to complete the ruse. Ooh, look at us fancy North Koreans with our amazing electric lighting and houses that technically haven't collapsed yet! Surely this is hedonism. Don't you wish you were here?
In 1984, the Winter Olympics were held in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia. You might remember Sarajevo as "that place the news warned us about," and you might remember Yugoslavia as "that country that doesn't exist anymore." As you can likely surmise, shit in Sarajevo went about as far down as the shit-elevator would take it, then switched to the stairs. So the massive and beautiful Olympic facility that they built in a more optimistic time now looks like this:
Sharon Machlis Gartenberg/Middlesex News
This was a painting of an Olympic village, but then it rained.
Here's the bobsled track, which was built at a cost of 563,209,000 Yugoslav dinar.
Karen Jane Barlow
That's like 500 dinar for each jagged crack.
We're sure some of those zeroes are utterly meaningless, but that's still got to be a hell of a lot of money. Once the mortars started firing, the twisty, turny track became one of the most whimsical artillery strongholds in history. Now the shelled remains are slowly being reclaimed by the wilderness.
Karen Jane Barlow
And by anonymous lovers hunting for glory holes.
Here's the ski jump, which we'll go ahead and guess was used to ramp bombs at enemies stationed downhill, and the ski lift, which was obviously perfect for sniper placement.
The mist will hide you, because Gaia is on your side.
As a parting kick to your heart compare those Call of Duty maps to the hopeful opening ceremony for the '84 games: