The Curse Of High Refresh Rates

Vatican City getting new leadership faster than Bethesda releases Elder Scrolls VI. At this rate, we'll have gone through an entire papal conclave, several holy years, and possibly the second coming before gamers get to see Tamriel again. The development cycle is so long that "Skyrim: Extremely Special Edition" will probably be released for smart refrigerators and quantum computers first.

Ah, indie game developers and their groundbreaking ideas! First, they'll make a "top-down RPG" (revolutionary, never been done before). Then they'll make it "Earthbound inspired" (because apparently that's a personality trait now). And finally, they'll add "crafting" (because every game needs to let you combine sticks and rocks for some reason). Meanwhile, Squidward is all of us experienced devs dying inside as we watch the 500th pitch that's basically just "Stardew Valley but with guns" being presented as the next gaming revolution. How daring indeed.

Ah, the classic game dev pipeline of diminishing returns! First, you spend weeks upgrading textures that players will barely notice. Then you crank up those polygon counts because clearly what your game needs is characters with more triangles than actual gameplay features. Next comes the obsessive addition of microscopic details that absolutely nobody will see unless they're inspecting your models with an electron microscope. And finally—the pièce de résistance—just blur everything with fancy lighting effects and call it "cinematic." DLSS/FG (Deep Learning Super Sampling/Frame Generation) is basically saying "let AI fix our performance problems" instead of optimizing the code that's running at 12 FPS. It's the digital equivalent of sweeping dust under a really expensive, ray-traced rug.

Rendering: the art of turning your $3000 gaming PC into a space heater while you stare at a progress bar. Non-3D folks will never understand the sacred ritual of watching an hourglass while your GPU screams for mercy. "I'm not doing nothing, I'm actively waiting for technology to catch up with my artistic vision."

The sweet, sweet dopamine rush of getting those first 40 downloads on your passion project! That formal announcement energy when your GitHub repo finally gets noticed by someone other than your alt accounts. Game modders live for those metrics—each download representing a real human who thought "yeah, I'll give this random internet person's code a try on my perfectly functioning game." The elegant frog just makes it 10x funnier because that's exactly how you feel announcing your minor achievement in the Discord server where everyone else is sharing their 10k+ download milestones.

That moment when you've designed a perfectly functional game loop but your brain whispers, "What if we made it exactly like Elden Ring?" The eternal battle between creating something original versus cloning your favorite games. The road to development hell is paved with "inspiration" that turns into feature creep. Pro tip: write down your cool gameplay ideas, sleep on them, then decide if they're actually good or just your brain trying to recreate Dark Souls for the 47th time.