Stop Using The Word "Bricked" If You Don't Know What It Means

The moment you mention you "work with computers," your entire extended family suddenly transforms into a horde of technological zombies with broken printers and forgotten passwords. It's like being the only doctor at a hypochondriac convention, except instead of asking if that mole looks cancerous, it's "Why is my Facebook doing that thing?" What thing? THE thing. You know. THAT thing. And they all expect immediate tech support during Thanksgiving dinner while your turkey gets cold and your will to live evaporates faster than RAM in a Chrome tab.

Guy wakes up from a decade-long coma excited about his "powerful" 8GB graphics card, completely unaware that GPU prices have gone full circle. In 2013, an 8GB card was high-end. Then came the crypto mining apocalypse, scalpers, and chip shortages that made buying any GPU require a second mortgage. Now he's about to discover his ancient dream card costs more than it did when he went under. The circle of GPU life continues.

Imagine RAM getting so scarce and pricey that devs actually have to *gasp* optimize their code and think about memory management. No more spinning up 47 Chrome tabs with 8GB each. No more Electron apps eating RAM like it's an all-you-can-eat buffet. Suddenly everyone's writing efficient code, profiling memory leaks, and actually caring about performance. The idea that a hardware shortage could force an entire generation of developers to rediscover what "resource constraints" means is so absurdly dystopian yet plausible that it might actually restore faith in divine intervention. Because let's be real—nothing short of a biblical RAM apocalypse is getting modern devs to stop treating memory like it's infinite.

The financial priorities of PC gaming enthusiasts in their natural habitat! Rejecting a $630 Nintendo Switch 2 as "too expensive," but gleefully dropping $4000 on an RTX graphics card without blinking. Because nothing says "reasonable budget management" like spending the equivalent of a used car on a component that'll be obsolete in 18 months. But those ray-traced reflections in Cyberpunk are totally worth eating ramen for six months straight.

Nothing says "secure facility" like threatening execution-style murder for unauthorized access. Guess regular locks were too mainstream for the sysadmin. The warning sign perfectly captures IT's subtle approach to security: "Touch our precious servers and get kneecapped." And they wonder why no one volunteers to help during server migrations.

Behold, the dark arts of firmware programming. What we're seeing here is a function pointer declaration that would make C purists weep into their mechanical keyboards. It's the coding equivalent of duct-taping a rocket to a shopping cart—technically it works, but nobody's proud of it. The syntax is so convoluted that even the compiler probably needs therapy after parsing it. This is what happens when you code at 3 AM fueled by nothing but energy drinks and desperation.