Steam Sales: The Publisher's Nightmare

Ah, the project graveyard – where dreams go to hibernate indefinitely. That folder structure on the right isn't just storage, it's a memorial to our collective optimism. We all start with "JUST MAKE IT EXIST FIRST" – that beautiful cyan circle of possibility – convinced this time we'll finish what we started. Then reality kicks in. That 3D spaceship model? That game engine experiment? That revolutionary app idea? All neatly tucked away in folders, waiting for the mythical "when I have time" that never arrives. The true skill isn't starting projects – it's finishing one before getting seduced by the next shiny idea. Meanwhile, our hard drives become digital museums of what-could-have-been.

The ultimate graphics card rebellion! This stick figure dictator has had enough of hyper-realistic ray-traced games where you can count individual arm hairs in 8K resolution. It's the perfect satire of how we've gone from "graphics don't matter, gameplay does!" to spending $3000 on GPUs just to see realistic water physics that we'll ignore after 5 minutes. The punishment? Back to text adventures and visual novels where your imagination has to do the heavy lifting. No DLSS or frame rate counters—just pure YOU ARE IN A MAZE OF TWISTY LITTLE PASSAGES, ALL ALIKE energy. Somewhere, a hardcore Dwarf Fortress player is nodding in approval.

Ah, the classic "scheduling your game release on the same day as Hollow Knight: Silksong" strategy. Bold move, Riddlebit Software, bold move. Nothing says "I believe in my product" quite like launching it directly into the shadow of one of the most anticipated indie games of all time. It's like scheduling your wedding on the same day as the Super Bowl and wondering why attendance is a bit sparse. I'm sure JETRUNNER will be fine though—just like how the Titanic was "fine" until it met that iceberg. September 4, 2025: The day thousands of indie devs collectively whispered, "Oh no."

The PC building community's obsession with RGB lighting has reached its logical conclusion - putting rainbow lights on a power supply unit fan that literally no one will ever see . It's like wearing designer underwear to a swimming pool - technically impressive but fundamentally pointless. The RGB PSU joins other engineering marvels like the cup handle that blocks your fingers, a gate that guards absolutely nothing, and whatever that blue watering can abomination is supposed to be. At least when your code fails spectacularly, people can see it. This is just wasting electricity to illuminate the inside of a metal box.

Congratulations! You've achieved the impossible: making a game so beautiful that players are mad it doesn't suck more. This reviewer is basically saying "How dare you make something gorgeous without forcing me to solve obscure puzzles where I need to combine a rubber chicken with a pulley in the middle?" The "finished within Steam's refund window" comment is the chef's kiss of backhanded compliments. Nothing says "your art is wasted" like someone timing their gameplay to maximize their financial efficiency. Next time, maybe add some deliberately frustrating gameplay elements? Perhaps force players to type commands like it's 1985, or add some game-breaking bugs for "authenticity." That'll teach you to make something beautiful but accessible!

The first thing I do after buying a new game is hunt down these four apocalyptic horsemen and banish them to the shadow realm. Nothing says "I want my game to look like actual gameplay and not a pretentious indie film" like turning off every post-processing effect that makes my GPU cry. Game devs think we want our screens to look like we're playing through a vaseline-smeared kaleidoscope while having a migraine. My RTX 3080 didn't die for this.