Strange How Every Literal Idea For Stop Killing Games Is Apparently Impossible

The great console migration has finally happened. After 7 years of PlayStation loyalty, the frog and his buddies have ascended to PC gaming. Probably took that long just to save up for the graphics cards. The real achievement isn't the hardware – it's maintaining the same friend group for 7 years without someone getting married, having kids, or developing a sudden interest in cryptocurrency.

Modern gaming is just a purple cat getting mugged from all directions. Day-one patches because who needs finished products? Lootboxes to empty your wallet through randomized "surprise mechanics." Crypto scams promising you'll totally own that JPEG of a monkey. And let's not forget the AI slop—half-baked "features" created by algorithms that somehow make games worse. Meanwhile, game studios keep recycling franchises and flipping assets while charging full price. The real game is seeing how much abuse players will tolerate before they stop throwing money at microtransactions. But hey, at least we get that dopamine hit of nostalgia bait when they remake that game you loved as a kid... for the third time.

OH THE BETRAYAL! The top image shows a gorgeous, character-filled brick house labeled "€5 2000s game+mods" - representing those glorious old games we modded into oblivion until they were MAGNIFICENT BEASTS of gaming perfection. The bottom shows the same house but painted sterile white labeled "€30 remaster" - the overpriced, soulless "improvements" game companies sell us as if they've done something revolutionary. They took our beautifully modded masterpieces, slapped on some white paint, and had the AUDACITY to charge six times more! This is the gaming industry equivalent of replacing your grandmother's secret recipe with store-bought garbage and charging you premium prices for the "convenience." THE HORROR!

The same energy as watching a dependency update from version 2.1.4 to 2.1.5 break your entire codebase. Game prices going from $60 to $80 in eight years has gamers squinting with suspicion, while software engineers are over here paying $200/month for SaaS tools that add one button to our UI. At least games are finished products... unlike that "MVP" you've been building for two years that still doesn't have error handling.

The indie game development experience: one person sitting behind a table with name tags for "Producer," "Director," "Actor," "Editor," "Writer," "Video Editor," and "Creative." It's the software development equivalent of wearing all the hats in your closet simultaneously. Big studios have entire departments. Indie devs have... coffee and determination. And probably a concerning browser history full of "how to fix [obscure engine] bug at 3AM" searches.

The eternal trap of game development. That gorgeous RPG with stunning visuals? Suddenly loses all appeal when you discover it's "Soulslike" - code for "you'll die 500 times to the tutorial boss while questioning your life choices." No one admits it, but we all do that SpongeBob walk-away-quickly move when we see that genre tag. Beautiful graphics are just the honeypot before the pain begins. It's like writing perfect documentation for code that crashes on launch.