Overboard rant.

Seriously, think about this. You're a company that's been around for over a hundred years. Before, you didn't do much. A few playing cards, 'bout it. Then, penny arcades start showing up. Ooo, that looks like a fun thing to do. So you start making penny arcade shooters and games, enjoying mild success. Then video arcades hit. Since you're in a prosperous land of technology, getting your hands dirty with this business should be easy. After seeing the success of a variety of arcade games, you take the biggest competitor's strategy: a home console. BOOM. You just hit it big. Everyone in your country loves it. Marketing it all over the world brings even bigger popularity and success. This is it. Your calling. You keep it up, making great games for your console. Sooner or later, everyone else in the business wants to try their hand at this. So you get some competition. They show up with bigger, better consoles and games. So what do you do? Work your ass off at the biggest, baddest beast of a console the technology will allow. The world is in awe. You're so fucking proud of yourself. You're building the biggest foundation of an entertainment company in the world, but you still try to keep it simple, laid back. Push the limits as much as you want, but still be peaceful in the process. Soon, time for another upgrade comes, so you attempt to make a console in partnership with the biggest home electronics maker in the world. Sadly, you break apart and go back to the basics to build your next console, alone. When you're all rippin and roarin' to go, your failed partner shows up with their first new console. You're stunned. It actually sells well. It hurts your product even more. For the first time, you're knocked back a tier. You accept your losses and move on. You finally abandon the ways of the past and move on to the next big format change, paving the way for bigger, better games. You put all your love and effort into it, package it with a kiss, and send it on it's way. Then you notice two huge changes in your life. Your life-long competitor dies out, no thanks to just the announcement of the backstabber partner's newest console. This time, you're determined. You take brave and bold leaps, experiment with your biggest sellers. Many love it. Many hate it. But you're still trying your damnest. Suddenly, a new comer flies outta left field. A long-time computer software manufacturer takes it's stab at the console world, showing a very high popularity. You don't know what's going on anymore. You're still trying and trying, but you're loosing focus on what you're trying to do. Next gen rolls out, and you're burnt out. Make everything as simple as possible. A bold, bold move, but you don't care anymore. Just pass through until you have enough energy to recover from the last blow. After a fairly decent launch, you notice people starting to fight over your two biggest competitor, while overlooking your own console as a comparison-worthy machine. They just don't care to compare. This hits you in the right spot, so you start back to working on the most epic and beautiful works of art in your history. In your mind, since nobody's willing to compare, you can do whatever you want. So you do. And you do it damn well. Damn. Well. This generation keeps going and going, and in a struck of luck, your console turns out to be the highest-selling console of that gen, nearly double the sales of the competitor. Now you're really ready to go. So you start out making the best console you can, breaking the boundary of what normality is for consoles. Again, if they're not comparing, you can do whatever you want. You fix all the mistakes of your last console, and make it bigger. Better. Over-all just bad-ASS. And when you got everything worked out, you ship it with as much love and care as possible. The result? Nothing. People did nothing. They still don't care. Now there's some people calling you out for nothing, screaming how you're doomed. You're a failure. You coil back in response. This hits you hard. So you set to work on something that will make them bite their tongue. After a LOT of hard-work, time, and a motherload of effort, you're ready to shoot out some of the best games ever created out into the world. Everyone's in awe just from the announcement of your work. This is it. It's your time again. You finally reach peace again. Now, you catch wind on a huge community of 'gamers' who are piggy-backing on your past success and creating virtual console simulators to play your older creations without paying a dime. Decades of work, decades of sweat, blood, and tears, and people would rather just take it all for free. You still offer as much of it as possible for a small price on your consoles, so players could experience it all again or for the first time, yet these people don't care. They can and will get it all for free, at no expense to them. Now, what would you do?