By Jordan Osei
It's a new year, and as we look back on 2026 with the clarity of hindsight, it's clear that some video game trends were just plain ridiculous. And yes, I realize that this statement probably makes me sound like your grandpa yelling at clouds, but hear me out: these trends weren't just silly; they also served as stark reminders of how easily the gaming world can lose perspective—and why we need to keep laughing at it all.
First up? The great "virtual reality fatigue" of 2026. Remember when everyone decided that VR was going to be the future of gaming? And then they remembered how much it cost and how much space it took up, and suddenly nobody wanted anything to do with it anymore.
It was like watching a room full of people realize they were at a party they didn't want to be at—only instead of leaving, they just kept standing around awkwardly until someone else figured out how to turn off the lights.
Next on our list? The "microtransaction meltdown" of 2026. You know what's more ridiculous than microtransactions? Microtransactions that are so blatantly predatory they make you question whether anyone involved in their creation had ever actually played a video game before.
Finally, let's talk about the "streamer saturation" of 2026. Remember when streaming was supposed to be this revolutionary new way of experiencing games? And then suddenly there were so many streamers that it became impossible to tell which ones were actually good at their jobs and which ones were just riding the coattails of popularity?
It was like watching a room full of people realize they were at a party they didn't want to be at—only instead of leaving, they just kept standing around awkwardly until someone else figured out how to turn off the lights.
So what can we learn from all this ridiculousness? Well, for one thing: don't take yourself too seriously. The gaming world has a habit of getting caught up in its own hype, forgetting that at the end of the day, it's supposed to be fun.
And if we can keep laughing at the absurdities—both intentional and unintentional—then maybe we can remind ourselves (and each other) why we love games in the first place.
