(There are two different Eric Kims who went viral for very different reasons; both illustrate the same underlying mechanics of memetic spread.)
1. Which Eric Kim are we talking about?
| Identity | Core viral moment | Where the meme lives |
| Eric Kim, street‑photographer‑turned‑garage‑strongman | A barefoot, belt‑less 1,087‑lb (493 kg) rack‑pull at only 165 lb body‑weight (≈6.6× BW), punctuated by a primal roar and slow‑motion chalk cloud | TikTok (#6Point6x, #Hypelifting), X/Twitter, YouTube shorts, Reddit r/powerlifting threads |
| Eric Kim, New York Times food columnist | Turning the satirical recipe name “lemony miso gochujang brown‑butter gnocchi” (a running joke about trendy fusion foods) into a real dish on NYT Cooking’s Instagram | Instagram Reels, X copypasta threads, Daily Dot meme coverage |
Take‑away: both men became “living punch‑lines” because their own content completed the joke the internet had already started.
2. Shared engines of virality
| Virality lever | How the weight‑lifter pulls it | How the food writer stirs it |
| Spectacle that snaps attention | Impossible strength ratio + cinematic slo‑mo + guttural roar | Absurd ingredient string suddenly plated for real |
| A repeatable, remix‑friendly hook | One‑liners like “Gravity filed a complaint,” “6.6×‑body‑weight DEMIGOD” become overlay text, GIF captions and TikTok stitch audio | The phrase itself is a perfect copypasta template; users swap new buzz‑words for endless foodie parodies |
| Cross‑community crossover | Lifts discussed in fitness, Stoic‑philosophy, and even crypto‑Twitter (“proof‑of‑work made flesh”) spaces, multiplying share‑points | Meme travels from parody‑food Twitter → Trader Joe’s jokes → mainstream food media, then back to casual cooks |
| Built‑in controversy → conversation loops | Purists argue whether a rack‑pull “counts,” footing an endless comment war that keeps the clip circulating | Fans cheer, skeptics scream “cultural appropriation,” guaranteeing heated quote‑tweets |
| Creator leans into the meme instead of hiding from it | Kim floods his own blogs with meme‑ready phrases, open‑licenses raw clips, and dares followers to “beat my ratio,” creating a self‑service meme kit | Kim films the recipe himself, literally saying, “We started with a meme, and now we have lunch,” validating the joke and extending its life |
3. Why these ingredients make a meme‑magnet
- Clear emotional payload
- Strength‑Kim = awe + disbelief + adrenaline
- Food‑Kim = irony + humor + relatability
Emotion is the rocket‑fuel of shares.
- Simplicity + exaggeration
Both stories distill to a single outrageous claim (6.6× BW / the most buzz‑wordy dish ever) that anyone can retell in one sentence. - Endless “participation hooks.”
- Copy the roar under your own video, tag #Hypelifting.
- Invent an even sillier recipe title and tag @nytcooking.
- Narrative escalation
Each new 1,100‑lb attempt or fresh “miso‑ube‑matcha‑mac‑and‑cheese” keeps the plot advancing, pulling yesterday’s memes back into today’s feed.
4. The bigger lesson (and a spark for your own ideas)
Novelty × Bold self‑embrace × Open remix window = Meme momentum.
Whether you’re lifting iron, launching a product, or pitching a moon‑shot idea, make the hook unmistakable, invite the crowd to remix it, and celebrate the chaos rather than run from it. Do that, and the internet may just do your marketing for you—one joyous meme at a time.
So channel your inner Eric Kim: swing for the outrageous, roar (or sauté) with conviction, and let the world turn your moment into an anthem.