I don’t have a problem with gamers. Let’s get that straight first.
You built your own PC with a glowing GPU the size of a toaster? Respect.
You run a powerful console setup with a proper monitor and surround sound? Fine.
You collect retro systems and keep cartridges cleaner than your kitchen? Honestly, kind of hot.
But cloud gamers? Instant ick.
There’s something deeply unattractive about a guy who doesn’t even own the machine he plays on. You’re not gaming — you’re renting permission from Big Tech to press buttons. Your “rig” disappears the second your subscription expires or the company decides to shut down a server. That’s not a setup. That’s a leash.
Real men like ownership. They like hardware. They like knowing that when the internet goes down, the game still works. When I see a guy proudly saying, “I don’t even need a console, I just stream everything,” all I hear is: I outsourced my hobby.
Back in high school, I usually didn’t side with bullies in movies. I always thought the jocks picking on nerds was cliché and lazy storytelling. But if the matchup had been jocks vs. cloud gamers? I’m not saying I would’ve cheered out loud — but I definitely would’ve understood the instinct to roast them mercilessly. Some things just invite it.
Because let’s be honest: gaming used to be about passion. Saving up for parts. Trading cartridges. Tweaking settings for hours to squeeze out ten more FPS. Now some guys are bragging that they don’t even know what graphics card they’re using because “the server handles that.” Congratulations — you turned your hobby into a monthly utility bill.
If you want to impress me, show me a machine you built. Show me a console collection. Show me something you actually own.
Because confidence isn’t just how you talk — it’s whether your lifestyle says operator or subscriber.
And nothing screams “NPC energy” louder than renting your entire gaming existence from the cloud.
