Well? We're Waiting For The Port That Matters

Forget your fancy synthetic benchmarks and Crysis runs—the true test of any GPU's worth is whether it can render a photorealistic 3D rat at a smooth 165 FPS. Because nothing says "cutting-edge graphics performance" quite like a chonky rodent spinning in the void. Someone actually built this as a WebGL benchmark tool, and honestly? It's more entertaining than watching progress bars. Your $2000 RTX 4090 better be able to handle those fur shaders, or what's even the point? The rat judges all. The top-left corner shows a glorious 165 FPS at 165 Hz—clearly running on hardware that respects the rat. If your machine can't handle the bigrat, maybe it's time to upgrade. Or just accept that you'll be stuck at 30 FPS looking at a slightly less majestic rodent.

The great GPU hypocrisy highway! AMD started with noble intentions of being the anti-NVIDIA hero we needed, only to swerve right and basically clone NVIDIA's 5060 card. It's the corporate equivalent of saying "I'll never become my parents" and then finding yourself yelling at kids to get off your lawn. The 5060 reference is to NVIDIA's RTX 5060 architecture - AMD basically took the same approach after promising to be different. Ten years in this industry and I've seen it all: companies start as rebels, end up as copycats. The circle of tech life continues...

THE ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL OF GAME PHYSICS! 😱 Just as you're about to drift off to sweet slumberland, your brain VIOLENTLY yanks you back to consciousness with the EARTH-SHATTERING revelation that virtual lamps in video games are somehow emitting ACTUAL PHOTONS into your room! The audacity! The treachery! As if game developers weren't content with stealing our sleep through addictive gameplay, they've now programmed light sources to transcend the digital-physical barrier! Next thing you know, water levels will be flooding our living rooms and enemy fireballs will set off the smoke detectors!

The career trajectory we never planned for! First, you naively enter game development with stars in your eyes and a degree in hand. Then reality hits—80-hour weeks debugging collision detection, players complaining your water physics aren't "realistic enough," and that one producer who keeps saying "just one more feature." Before you know it, you're burnt out, staring at your IDE with the thousand-yard stare of someone who's implemented the same login screen 37 times. Finally, you reach enlightenment: reject complexity, embrace photosynthesis. Your plants don't have merge conflicts, don't need standups, and never ask "but can we make it pop more?" The ultimate escape from dependency hell is growing actual tomatoes instead of maintaining npm packages with tomato-related names.

Companies say they want honest developers until you actually tell them the truth. "Sorry boss, can't implement that water feature because I didn't code the swimming animation. Would take 3 sprints and blow the budget." Next thing you know, you're labeled as "not a team player" for refusing to build a physics engine overnight. The real MVP is the dev who put up that sign instead of letting users drown in unfinished features.

When your horror game project goes through executive review and marketing focus groups... Started with a terrifying monster bus straight from your nightmares, ended with dancing unicorns and DJs with sunglasses. Classic corporate evolution where someone inevitably says "but will this appeal to the TikTok demographic?" It's the same transformation that turned Resident Evil into a dance party and Dead Space into a microtransaction store. Next thing you know, they'll add battle passes to Tetris and loot boxes to Pong.