The corporate version of "things that don't matter" except they absolutely do matter and we're all lying to ourselves. AMD's driver situation has gotten way better over the years, but let's be real—we all know someone who still has PTSD from Catalyst Control Center. Windows bloatware is basically a feature at this point (looking at you, Candy Crush pre-installed on a $2000 machine). Intel's NM (nanometer) naming was already confusing before they switched to "Intel 7" because marketing > physics. And Sony/MacBook gaming? Sure, if you enjoy playing Solitaire at 4K. The NVIDIA VRAM one hits different though—12GB in 2024 for a $1200 GPU? Generous. And Ubisoft's game optimization is so legendary that your RTX 4090 will still stutter in their open-world games because they spent the budget on towers you can climb instead of performance. Crucial's "consumers don't matter" is just accurate business strategy—they're too busy selling to data centers to care about your gaming rig.

The gaming hardware industry has officially entered its villain arc. While gamers and PC builders are just trying to run games without selling a kidney, AI companies and RAM manufacturers are in bed together, hogging all the sweet DDR5 modules for their data centers and AI training rigs. The joke here is that by 2026, the unholy alliance between AI tech giants and memory manufacturers will have completely squeezed out the consumer market. Your dream of building that 64GB gaming rig? Sorry buddy, those sticks are busy training GPT-7 to write better code than you. The betrayal is real when the components you need are being diverted to feed the machine learning beast instead of your Cyberpunk 2077 addiction.

Ah yes, the classic developer experience: dropping $1,500 on a GPU that can render entire universes in real-time, only to be humbled by a game from 2002 that requires "at least two MBs of video memory." The RTX 5070 Ti probably has 16GB of VRAM, which is roughly 16,000 MB, but somehow the game's ancient detection logic is like "nope, can't find it, sorry buddy." It's the digital equivalent of having a PhD but failing a kindergarten math test because you wrote your answer in cursive. Fun fact: Many old games hardcoded their system checks for hardware that existed at the time, so they literally don't know how to recognize modern GPUs. Your cutting-edge graphics card is essentially invisible to software that was written when flip phones were peak technology. The game is sitting there with its little 32-bit brain going "What's an RTX? Is that a type of dinosaur?"