Society If GPUs And CPUs Were Priced Based On Performance

OH MY GOD, SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! This poor CPU is literally running at the temperature of a THOUSAND SUNS! 🔥 15,404,226,624,618,496°C?! That's not a computer anymore, honey, that's a portal to the underworld! The laws of physics have left the chat, the universe is melting, and yet Windows is just casually displaying it like "yeah, this is fine." Meanwhile, your motherboard has probably transcended into another dimension where silicon exists as plasma. But sure, go ahead and download Ryzen Master while your computer is LITERALLY HOTTER THAN THE BIG BANG! 💅

You set up a cute little home server to host your personal projects, maybe run Plex, store your files, tinker with Docker containers... and suddenly everyone at the family gathering wants you to explain what it does. Next thing you know, Uncle Bob wants you to "fix his Wi-Fi" and your non-tech friends think you're running a crypto mining operation. The swear jar stays empty because you've learned to keep your mouth shut. But that "telling people about my home server when I wasn't asked" jar? That's your retirement fund. Every time you can't resist explaining your beautiful self-hosted setup, another dollar goes in. The worst part? You know you're doing it, but the urge to evangelize about your Raspberry Pi cluster is just too strong. Pro tip: The moment someone shows mild interest, you're already mentally planning their entire homelab migration. Nobody asked, but they're getting a 45-minute presentation anyway.

Trust issues level 9000! When someone asks why IT professionals are difficult, here's your answer: driving two hours just to physically verify a server is powered on despite THREE people's assurances. Because in the server room, "trust but verify" isn't just a motto—it's a survival mechanism. That blinking LED is worth more than any verbal confirmation. Remote management tools? Sure, they exist... but nothing beats the sweet relief of pressing that cold metal power button yourself and whispering, "I knew it" when you were right all along.

Oh look, it's a CPU from AMD checking if your code is actually alive! Just like in Squid Game, where contestants had to survive deadly challenges, your programs are constantly being judged on whether they deserve to keep running or get brutally terminated by the OS. That horrified expression is exactly what happens when you realize your beautiful algorithm that worked perfectly in development is now deadlocked in production. The CPU is just sitting there like "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to respond in the next 0.5ms or I'm sending a SIGKILL your way." Spoiler alert: Your thread doesn't make it to the next round.

The compiler's solution to fitting a 64-bit number into a 32-bit processor? Just use two chairs. Pure elegance. This is basically how your compiler handles it - splitting that chunky 64-bit integer into two 32-bit pieces and hoping nobody asks questions about the implementation details. The overhead is minimal, just like those flimsy plastic chairs. And yes, this is exactly why your code sometimes runs slower than expected on older hardware. Your compiler is just sitting there, awkwardly balancing on two chairs, pretending everything is fine.

Someone's tucking their RAM sticks into a box like they're precious children being put to bed. Because apparently, treating your hardware with the gentle care of a bedtime story is the secret to longevity. Next thing you know, they'll be reading "Goodnight Moon" to their SSDs and singing lullabies to their GPUs. The dedication is admirable though—most of us just yeet our old RAM into a drawer and hope it doesn't oxidize into oblivion. But hey, if whispering sweet nothings about low latency and stable voltages makes your DDR4 last another year, who are we to judge?