Ok, maybe that’s stretching things a bit. After all, I haven’t stayed at all of the KOA’s (Kampgrounds of America for those of you that have never heard of them) so I can’t really say whether or not it’s the absolute worst.

We did a little family camping for a couple of weeks, mainly driving through Washington and Oregon and doing the usual sightseeing/photography/camping type stuff. Some of the campgrounds were state parks, and a couple were KOA’s. Forrest Gump springs to mind, with the old “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.” The same could be said of KOA’s…it’s basically a crap shoot. Some are nice, some suck.

As we approached the KOA in Cascade Locks, Oregon, our first indication  that something was amiss was when we first pulled up to the campground entrance. It was odd because well, we were in a neighborhood. I don’t know about you, but when I go camping, I want to go camping. Which means out in the woods, or the prairie, or by the ocean, you know, away from everything and everybody, or at least as much as possible. Instead, the campground entrance was across the street from houses, with well-manicured front lawns and cars parked in driveways. And I’m like, “What the hell is this?” and the wife doesn’t look pleased either.

We pull into the campground and check in at the front office. We find our Kabin (what is with these people and the need to intentionally misspell things? I guess KOA Cabin isn’t as Kute as Kabin.) We’re getting set up, and I hear this rumbling sound. I start to feel a vibration, and all of a sudden I hear a deafening “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK” as the kindly engineer lays on the horn of the freight train, which is now careening down the tracks which are about ten feet from the campground.

Yes, there’s a freight line, that runs past the campground every few hours or so and ALL NIGHT LONG. Every time the train came through and woke me up, again, I couldn’t help think “What kind of an idiot builds a campground next to train tracks?” Then I thought about all the thousands of poor bastards that end up here each year, thinking they’ve found a nice quiet camping getaway, but instead have entered Kamper’s Hell. Avoid this place at all costs.

NOTE TO SELF:

From now on when planning camping trips, use google maps to check out an aerial photo of the site and make sure there are no train tracks (or neighborhoods) anywhere near the campsite.

From Dana Milbanks at the Washington Post:

Republicans Vote Against Moms; No Word Yet on Puppies, KittensBy Dana Milbank
Friday, May 9, 2008; A03

It was already shaping up to be a difficult year for congressional Republicans. Now, on the cusp of Mother’s Day, comes this: A majority of the House GOP has voted against motherhood.

On Wednesday afternoon, the House had just voted, 412 to 0, to pass H. Res. 1113, “Celebrating the role of mothers in the United States and supporting the goals and ideals of Mother’s Day,” when Rep. Todd Tiahrt (R-Kan.), rose in protest.

“Mr. Speaker, I move to reconsider the vote,” he announced.

Rep. Kathy Castor (D-Fla.), who has two young daughters, moved to table Tiahrt’s request, setting up a revote. This time, 178 Republicans cast their votes against mothers.

It has long been the custom to compare a popular piece of legislation to motherhood and apple pie. Evidently, that is no longer the standard. Worse, Republicans are now confronted with a John Kerry-esque predicament: They actually voted for motherhood before they voted against it.

Republicans, unhappy with the Democratic majority, have been using such procedural tactics as this all week to bring the House to a standstill, but the assault on mothers may have gone too far. House Minority Leader John Boehner, asked yesterday to explain why he and 177 of his colleagues switched their votes, answered: “Oh, we just wanted to make sure that everyone was on record in support of Mother’s Day.”

By voting against it?

If Boehner’s explanation doesn’t make much sense, he’s been under a great deal of stress lately.

You can’t make this stuff up!

Photo by Steve Justad

Hoppy got his name because he had a limp ever since a fight he was in as a pup. Unfortunately, he’s no longer with us, since the Bush administration issued a rule permitting states to kill wolves affecting elk herds in any way in the northern Rockies. Hoppy was one of the first casualties as the federal government stripped Endangered Species protections for gray wolves in the northern Rockies at the end of March.

See a slide show of Hoppy and other wolves at Yellowstone and find out what you can do to help here.

Sometimes the jokes just write themselves.

More at Secrecy News

Despite being an avid gamer, despite the fact that I’ve been playing video games since Pong, I have always despised level bosses. There, I’ve said it. It’s not something I’m proud of, and it is a rather lonely place to be, because apparently everyone else in the Universe loves them.

Here’s my problem: when I’m playing a game, nine times out of ten I am having a blast exploring, discovering new tools or weapons to use, checking out the cool environments, and solving puzzles. So far so good.

But then it happens.

I walk into a HUGE room, much larger than any other area nearby, and I hear the ssssssss-CLANK as the door I just walked through slams shut behind me. And in that split second, my heart sinks, and the Angels cry, because I know the next 30 minutes of my life are going to be Pure Hell.

It usually goes something like this: 1) Cue the psycho circus music. Yeah, you know the music I’m talkin’ about…doo DAH doo DAH doo DAHHHHHHH deedle-deedle DAHHHHHHHH!!! The stuff that already sends your blood pressure to level Orange before anything’s even happened. 2) You look around, and there the fat bastard is. As big as a city building, with multiple heads/tentacles/wings/gonads, and he is not happy to see you. 3) It’s time to look for the “weak spot”. Every boss has one. It might be a green target on his nose, or one of his heads is closer to you, or maybe his ass is glowing.

Your job now is to shoot him in the ass, in between his deadly, screaming attacks. In the best games, if you get hit by the boss even once, you die. In the very, very best games, you now get respawned 43 miles away from the boss, and you have to fight your way back to him, for the pleasure of dying another 27 times while you’re trying to figure out his “pattern”. What happened to the fun I was having?

There was a university study released two weeks ago, that showed that over 93% of the time that game controllers are hurled across the room in a fit of rage, it involved level bosses. Okay, that’s big lie, I just made that up. But I think you can see where I’m going here.

I HAVE A DREAM

Let me tell you about my dream. It’s not a good dream like Martin Luther King’s, where mankind is getting along better and there’s equal opportunity for all. No, mine is a time travel dream. In this dream I travel back in time, and find myself on a pleasant outdoor hike with the first game designer who thought level bosses would be a good idea. We stop to take in the beautiful view over a high cliff edge. I say “Wow, look at that eagle!” and when the designer looks out towards the horizon saying “Where?” I push him off the cliff.

A wave of guilt spreads over me as what I have just done sinks in, but it was for a worthy cause. I have just saved untold future generations from being subjected to an endless stream of idiotic, lumbering level bosses. Woot! The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I always wake from this dream sweating, and anxious. I am both relieved and saddened…relieved because I didn’t really kill any game designers so I won’t be going to jail anytime soon, but saddened because that first designer survived, and polluted our lives forever.

Besides, even if I had stopped the first one, you and I both know that it would only be a matter of time before some designer would be sitting there staring at a level map and suddenly think “Hey…what if there was a REALLY BIG enemy in this room?” and the shit would hit the fan all over again.

And to all of you out there who think I’m crazy, and who are saying “But…but…but..level bosses make the game more challenging!” or “I <3 teh level bosses!!!1one!” or “Dude, you must suck if level bosses keep killing you” all I can say is, well, PPPFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTT!

Not very meaningful, I know. But it was all I could think of on a moments notice.

I’ll close with another dream, one where I am playing a game and I go to the Options screen and see this:

LEVEL BOSSES: ON/OFF

Hey, I can dream can’t I?

Ya gotta love commercials like this. The way those of us that actually work on games are portrayed is fascinating. I especially like the bizarre facial ticks the guy on the right goes through as he explains how his mom always told him he’d never get anywhere with games. I mean, who are these guys exactly? Are they playtesters? Designers? Artists?

Apparently, they’re all 3. The “boss lady” wants them to finish their testing, because she has a new game she wants them to design. But they can’t yet, because they have to “tighten up the graphics.”

Thank god…because as we all know, LOOSE GRAPHICS KILL.

“Following lawsuits over a Illinois state law that would restrict video game sales, U.S. courts have ruled that the State of Illinois must pay the Entertainment Software Association, Video Software Dealers Association and Illinois Retail Merchants Association $510,528.64 in attorney’s fees racked up fighting the successfully blocked law.”

This law was retarded from the word Go. Games ALREADY have ESRB warnings, just like movies. But they wanted to require additional warnings, and have freaking signs posted in the stores about said warnings, and then fines being handed out to anyone that they deemed deserved a fine. Fools got what they deserved.

Full story at Gamasutra, here.

He recorded the whole thing. Great fun.

Cancelling AOL

Then a coworker pointed out that the ingredients were actually different, despite the main label still saying the same thing.

Here’s a copy of my letter to Tropicana:

“I am fortunate enough to work at a company that brings in free beverages and snacks for the employees. I have long been a Tropicana Ruby Red Grapefruit drinker, but that’s changed recently due to strange alterations you’ve made to the recipe. The strange part is that the UPC codes are the same on the “old” and “new” versions, but the ingredients are different! What are you guys doing? The new stuff tastes awful. Please let me know which version you’re going to stick with, so I can advise our company as to whether or not we should continue with Tropicana product.”

And here’s their reply:

“Eric:

We are sorry you disliked the new version of Tropicana Ruby Red Grapefruit 100% Juice Blend.

Because of the loss of much of Florida’s grapefruit crop due to hurricanes in the past several years, we changed the formula. With the new formula came new nutrition values. Please be assured that we will share your comments with our Marketing Group. Full value coupons to replace the product have been sent via the US Postal Service. They should arrive within 7-10 business days.”

______________________________________

Priceless. So because there’s a shortage of grapefruit juice, Tropicana decides to change the recipe and hope nobody notices. The label still says “100% Juice” followed by “Ruby Red Grapefruit.” But in the fine print at the bottom, what used to say “Grapefruit Juice from Concentrate” now says “Flavored Juice Blend from Concentrate”.

The first ingredient in the original juice was grapefruit juice from concentrate.

The first ingredient in the new juice? Filtered water. Since when is filtered water 100% juice?

Asshats.