The Gorilla in Us All

So this 100 men vs. 1 gorilla debate is literally my favorite kind of humor. It’s the type of thought experiment you’d expect to overhear at 2 a.m. in a dorm kitchen, or deep in a Reddit thread. But if you dig past the passionate gym bros and their “here’s how we flank the gorilla” PowerPoint presentations, I think there’s a genuinely deeper commentary on society here.

And yes, I feel stupid for saying that. I don’t want to be that guy who assigns cosmic meaning to internet nonsense. I’m not trying to go full “Joe Rogan meets undergrad philosophy major” and explain how the gorilla represents the ego and the 100 men are modern man's fractured identity or whatever…but also? There definitely something.

Here’s the thing: I’ve laughed harder at this topic than almost anything else online lately. But I feel like there’s more than that, something real—like weirdly communal. Shared. In an unhinged way.

Let me explain

What the Internet Should Feel Like

I feel like this is the genesis of the internet. Unfiltered creativity. Collaborative absurdity. A total rejection of rules, but somehow bound by unspoken laws of humor, reference, and collective imagination.

This is what the internet is supposed to be. I think it kinda intertwines with my love for strange funny comemetary niche Instagram accounts where it’s just a curated selection of information of the online world. Shoutout @thepoliticalcompass @ihategum, @onlystarleft, and a bunch of other goats.

When the internet unites to talk about something, there is something palpable. And I know if I were to try and describe it, it would lose its meaning. Like when you see it, you know, not much else left to say. 

The Snail, The Duck-Sized Horses, and Internet Mythology

The gorilla is just the latest in a long lineage of these mass-participation thought experiments. Remember the immortal snail?

“You gain immortality and infinite wealth. But somewhere in the world, a snail is also immortal and it’s constantly coming to kill you. If it touches you, you die instantly. You can’t stop it. You can only run.”

For years, people have role played their life strategies around this snail.

• “I bought a mansion on a boat. I move it every six months”

• “The snail and I meet once a decade to talk. We are friends now. But one day, he will strike”

• “The snail is on a cargo ship. I have 3 years of peace left”

There was fan fiction. A Reddit poem from the snail’s point of view. Entire lore drops. Edits of The Terminator, but with the snail. The thing took on a kind of metaphysical weight. The snail became the embodiment of mortality. Of purpose. Of inevitability.

And all of this from a stupid, hypothetical question.

Just like the gorilla.

Not sure where I heard this but I like it…

“A picture speaks a thousand words. A meme can speak ten thousand”

Memes aren’t jokes anymore. They’re how we communicate. They’re satire, protest, love letters, world-building. In a society that’s increasingly fragmented, where language feels bankrupt and sincerity is rare, memes are one of the only things left that can hit everyone at once.

The 100 men vs. gorilla debate works because it’s so aggressively unserious that it bypasses our filters. We stop performing intelligence and just…play. We’re allowed to be imaginative. To believe. The debate isn't about the outcome, it's about the ritual of engaging. Of arguing passionately about something that absolutely does not matter, but matters because we’ve all agreed to care.

It’s theater. It’s sport. It’s myth-making. And when that happens, when the collective internet drops its guard and goes full chaos mode together it kind of feels like peace. Like unity. Honestly can’t believe I just said that. But truthfully? I do think its in moments of sheer internet stupidity, we feel the most connected.

Final Words

Maybe we actually beat the Gorilla.

Maybe half the squad would be filming TikToks.

Maybe someone would try to “negotiate” with it using a banana.

Maybe two guys would reveal they’ve been gorillas this whole time.

Maybe Man 71 lands the uppercut of destiny—and we believe again.

But at the end of the day, this wasn’t about victory.

It was about imagination.

It was about community.

It was about 100 men... standing shirtless in a field... screaming “we got this” as a 400-lb silverback winds up like Mike Tyson.

And honestly? That’s beautiful. That’s the internet.

God bless.