In a scene straight out of a surreal indie game, a group of over 50 game developers descended upon Yerba Buena Gardens in what can only be described as a bizarre display of collective angst. Their mission? To scream. These individuals, took part in a cult-like congregation at the GDC, organised by former Epic Games producer Caryl Shaw and Fortnite Festival designer Scott Jon Siegel, and engaged in what they dubbed the “GDScream” event, a ritualistic outburst aimed at expressing their dissatisfaction with the massive layoffs in the gaming industry, and GamerGate 2.0.
It was a motley crew of disillusioned developers, armed with woke ideology and esoteric signs that read “SCREAM”, assembling in a park at the GDC with all the solemnity of a religious gathering. And then, at the stroke of noon, the cacophony began—a cacophony that could only be described as equal parts pitiful and pathetic.
producer Caryl Shaw and Fortnite Festival designer Scott Jon Siegel
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The masterminds behind this spectacle at the GDC, Scott Jon Siegal and Caryl Shaw, seemed oblivious to the sheer absurdity of their actions. Siegal, with a self-righteous air about him, bemoaned the industry’s exploitation of passion. Shaw, meanwhile, eagerly embraced her role as co-conspirator, organising the event with all the enthusiasm of a true believer in a cult of victim-hood.
In conversations with these self-proclaimed “screamers,” one couldn’t help but marvel at the depths of their delusion. They spoke of catharsis and camaraderie, as if screaming into the void could somehow alleviate the very real issues plaguing the industry. One anonymous developer, in a display of cognitive dissonance worthy of a cult initiate, confessed to hating a GDC session on diversity—a session presumably aimed at addressing the very issues they claim to care about.
But perhaps the most absurd aspect of this entire charade was the presence of union representatives from CODE-CWA, peddling their own brand of snake oil to the disillusioned masses. Robin LoBuglio and Dara Insixiengmay, both from Tender Claws, preached the gospel of collective action as if it were the solution to all their problems. Their words, dripping with sanctimony, served only to further cement the cult-like atmosphere of the event.
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As the crowd dispersed, one couldn’t help but shake their head in disbelief. What had just transpired defied all logic and reason. These self-styled “screamers,” with their melodramatic theatrics and messianic zeal, had unwittingly transformed themselves into caricatures of the very industry they claimed to criticise. In their desperate quest for validation, they had become the punchline to a joke no one was laughing at.
In the end, GDScream was nothing more than a pathetic display of collective impotence—a sad reminder of what happens when disillusionment gives way to delusion. So let us mock these “screamers” for what they truly are: lost souls in search of meaning, clinging to their grievances like a security blanket in a world that refuses to cater to their every whim. And as they continue their descent into madness, let us not forget to laugh, for in laughter lies the only true catharsis.
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