This Is What Studying Game Theory As A Gamedev Feels

Game developers know the pain. You spend hours optimizing your code, squeezing every last frame out of your game, when suddenly your own "brilliant" feature idea comes along and murders your performance in cold blood. Then you have the audacity to blame the engine! Classic developer self-sabotage at its finest. Unity gets a bad rap, but let's be honest—we're the ones adding particle systems that spawn 10,000 objects with real-time shadows while wondering why our game runs at 3 FPS. The duality of game dev: creating the problem, then being shocked when it exists.

The pinnacle of debugging assistance right here! Some poor dev is trying to fix a critical issue with... *checks notes*... a toolbox inside another toolbox in what's clearly a game. No logs, no details, just existential despair and a vague description that reads like it was written during a sugar crash. The real bug is this bug report. It's the equivalent of telling your doctor "something hurts somewhere sometimes" and expecting a precise diagnosis. Even better is the "Debug Information" section that's as empty as my will to live after reading this. Next time you think your documentation is insufficient, remember this masterpiece that managed to combine the eloquence of a toddler with the technical precision of a drunk fortune teller.

Back in the day, game devs were out here coding ENTIRE ROLLERCOASTER TYCOONS in Assembly language like absolute psychopaths, fitting shooters into 97KB (yes, KILOBYTES), and somehow making games run on potatoes while also having bodies that could bench press a small car. They were built different, both literally and figuratively. Fast forward to now and we've got AAA studios crying about how they can't fix bugs because someone's allegedly stealing breast milk (?!), shipping 50GB games that require another 50GB day-one patch, telling you to buy a NASA-grade PC just so their unoptimized mess doesn't crash every 5 minutes, and blaming YOU—the player—for their always-online singleplayer game being broken. The devolution is REAL and it's SPECTACULAR in the worst way possible. We went from "I made this masterpiece fit on a floppy disk" to "Sorry, the game is 200GB and still doesn't work, also here's $70 worth of microtransactions." The bar went from the moon straight to the Earth's core.

The mythical RTX 5060 has achieved the impossible - scoring exactly 0 FPS with no drivers installed! It's like trying to drive a Ferrari without a steering wheel or engine. The graph shows every other GPU flexing their ray-tracing muscles while the 5060 sits at the bottom with a sad little "()" instead of actual numbers. Whoever made this fake benchmark chart forgot that GPUs need, you know, actual software to function. It's basically the hardware equivalent of dividing by zero - mathematically undefined, practically hilarious. Next benchmark: testing how well it performs as an expensive paperweight!

Billion-dollar GPU vs. one efficient Japanese coder? Not even a contest. While we're all chasing fancy hardware to run our bloated, framework-heavy code, Japanese game devs are out here making masterpieces run on calculators. Monster Hunter and Elden Ring weren't built with 16 layers of abstraction and 800MB of node_modules. The rest of us are like "I need a quantum computer to center this div" while they're squeezing every last cycle from hardware like it's still the PS2 era. Efficiency is apparently a lost art everywhere except Japan.

The AUDACITY of thinking anyone would pay for your passion project! There you are, pouring your SOUL into crafting pixel-perfect gameplay while dressed as a literal clown. 🤡 The indie game dev dream: spend 5,000 hours creating your masterpiece only to sell exactly THREE copies (two of which are your parents). Meanwhile, some kid makes a game about a screaming goat and becomes an overnight millionaire. THE INJUSTICE! But you keep coding anyway, rainbow wig firmly in place, because what else would you do with your tragic existence? At least the circus has good benefits!