What Is Your Favorite Mouse

The eternal cycle of gaming disappointment. You see a shiny new game announcement, and your heart skips a beat. Then you spot those dreaded words: "Built with Unreal Engine 5." Suddenly your $2000 gaming rig transforms into a glorified space heater that struggles to maintain 30fps while your GPU fans reach airplane takeoff levels. Meanwhile, the devs are like "Have you tried DLSS? Maybe upgrade your 3-month-old graphics card?" The irony is that UE5 is actually capable of incredible optimization - it's just that many studios get so mesmerized by those sweet nanite visuals and lumen lighting that performance becomes an afterthought. "Who needs 60fps when the rocks have 8K textures?"

The classic bait-and-switch from Valve! Everyone thought the Steam Deck competitor "GabeCube" (named after Gabe Newell, Valve's founder) would be reasonably priced at $500-600, competing with consoles like PlayStation and Xbox. But nope! Valve decided they're "competing with PC" instead – which is corporate speak for "we're charging you $1000+ for this tiny box." It's like going to buy a Honda and the salesman says "Actually, we compete with SpaceX." The PC gaming tax strikes again – miniaturization doesn't come cheap, folks!

Spent $3000 on high-end components, forgot to actually build the PC. Classic rookie mistake of confusing "buying parts" with "assembling computer." That RTX 4070 isn't going to install itself, buddy. Next time try removing the components from their boxes and connecting them together—it's this weird hack that makes computers actually turn on.

So you spent three weeks learning trigonometry, diving into DDA algorithms, and debugging why your walls look like a Salvador Dalí painting, only to realize John Carmack did this in 1992 on hardware that had less computing power than your smart toaster. And he did it while probably eating pizza and writing assembly like it was a casual Tuesday. The "box of triangles" bit hits different when you realize modern game engines abstract all this pain away with their fancy rendering pipelines, but back then? Carmack was literally casting rays and doing trigonometric calculations per pixel to fake 3D in Wolfenstein 3D. No GPU acceleration, no Unity, no "just import Three.js"—just raw math and the will to make demons shootable. Meanwhile, you're here in 2024 with Stack Overflow, ChatGPT, and 64GB of RAM, still struggling to get your raycaster to not crash when you look at a corner. Humbling stuff.

Behold the evolution of versioning sophistication! From the barbaric simplicity of "1, 2, 3" (did we even have computers back then?), to the refined elegance of "1.0, 1.1, 1.2" that makes project managers feel professional, and finally ascending to godhood with "8086, 80286, 80386" – where you're not just versioning software, you're naming it after the silicon it runs on. Nothing says "I've been in this industry since punch cards" like referencing Intel processors from the 1980s. The true power move isn't semantic versioning – it's naming your releases after increasingly obsolete hardware.

The universal IT solution that works 60% of the time, every time: turning it off and on again. Nothing quite matches that smug confidence when you stroll into a meeting after "fixing" a critical system by simply hitting restart. Meanwhile, actual IT support people are chasing you down like "WAIT! We need to check the logs first!" Too late. I've already ascended to tech hero status with my sophisticated troubleshooting technique that dates back to the stone age of computing.