You Should Probably Make a Meme 🫠

Good morning 👋🏼 If you follow me on Instagram, you might’ve noticed I’ve been playing around with memes lately. Nothing groundbreaking—just some Elaine Stritch quotes and photos of Bernadette Peters that deeply tickled me.

And honestly? It’s been kind of fascinating. Because while memes might seem like low-effort internet noise, they’re actually doing something really specific: they move. Fast. Far. And in ways that traditional content just…doesn’t.

So this week, we’re looking at:
👉🏼 What memes actually are
👉🏼 Why they work the way they do
👉🏼 The Meme Matrix (!!)
👉🏼 How creators and brands can make content that travels

Plus,
☝🏼 A podcast appearance I’m…proud of?
☝🏼 What I’m learning about collaboration

Let’s get into it.

Wait—what is a meme, exactly?

Originally, “meme” was a term from evolutionary biology—a unit of culture that spreads from person to person, kind of like a gene. (Shoutout to Richard Dawkins, 1976.)

Dawkins coined the word as a way to explain how ideas, behaviors, and styles move through society. He saw memes as an equivalent of genes: tiny packets of meaning that replicate, mutate, and survive based on how well they catch on. To Dawkins, a meme could be anything that gets passed along through imitation—a catchphrase, a melody, a fashion trend, a belief, a ritual. He borrowed the word from the Greek “mimeme,” meaning “that which is imitated,” and shortened it to rhyme with “gene” to fit the metaphor.

Then the internet came along and gave memes a makeover.

What used to evolve slowly over years or generations could now explode across the globe in minutes. Memes got faster, funnier, more visual. They became tools of expression, inside jokes, rallying cries, and templates for connection—all compressed into something that fits inside a tweet, a TikTok, or a screenshot.

Today, a meme is a piece of content—usually funny, often true, endlessly remixable—that travels because it captures a feeling, a moment, or an idea in a way that’s instantly recognizable.

But at its core, a meme is a little “oh thank god it’s not just me” in image form.

Your Brain on Meme

Memes spread because they’re fast, funny, and true. They don’t ask for context. They don’t need an explanation. But what seems like randomness is actually…science! Your brain is wired to love memes.

First, they’re easy to process. Our brains crave simplicity—what psychologists call cognitive fluency. The easier something is to understand, the more satisfying it feels. That sense of ease triggers a little dopamine, which is why an instantly relatable meme feels good and makes you want to share it.

Second, they hit the sweet spot between familiar and surprising. Our brains are constantly scanning for patterns, and when something breaks a pattern just slightly, it sparks interest. This is known as prediction error, and it’s what keeps you hooked on meme formats that evolve with each new post. We know what’s coming—until we don’t. That moment of surprise is part of what makes them so addictive.

Third, they act like social glue. When you post a meme, you’re not just sharing a joke—you’re sharing a signal. “I get it.” “I’m part of this.” That kind of identity-aligned content activates oxytocin, the brain’s trust and bonding chemical. Memes are more than content—they’re connection.

So yes, memes are silly. But they’re also engineered to spread. And if you know why they work, you can start to think about how to make something meme-able.

The Meme Matrix

Not all memes work the same way. Some are built to be copied. Some just happen. Some are all about the format, others are all about the person. And once you start noticing the difference, you can start designing for it.

This framework looks at two things:
First—what’s being meme’d? Is it the message itself, or the messenger behind it?
And second—how does it function? Is it following a recognizable structure, or is it more of a one-off moment that just… caught on?

So the axes look like this:
Structured ↔ Spontaneous
Message ↔ Messenger

And just to be clear—this isn’t a sorting hat. It’s a spectrum. A vibe map. A way of understanding what kind of energy a meme is carrying, not a rigid category. Most memes float between quadrants, but this will help you see how they travel—and how to build content with that same spark.

In the top left: Structured + Message. These are the templates—the memes where the format is the point. “He’s a 10 but…” “No one: / Absolutely no one:” These spread because they’re easy to plug into. Anyone can use them. The structure does the heavy lifting.

Bottom left: Structured + Messenger. This one’s a little trickier—but you’ve seen it. A person becomes a meme then it gets looped, mimicked, remixed. M3GAN’s dance. “Bus, Club, Another Club.” These often show up as lip-syncs that started as organic viral clips.

Top right: Spontaneous + Message. These are the cultural echoes. Not tied to a person, not planned, not following a template. Just something that taps into a shared feeling and takes off. A screenshot of a text that says exactly what everyone’s thinking that week. The moment spreads because the idea behind it is too good not to share.

And finally: Spontaneous + Messenger. This is where accidental icons live. Corn Kid. Nicole Kidman clapping. Holding space. Keke Palmer. No format. No plan. Just a moment that hits—and sticks.

The truth is, you can’t force a meme. But you can understand how they work. You can look at what’s spreading and ask: Is this about the idea or the person? Is it something people can reuse—or just a flash of magic?

And once you can see that, you can start creating with more intention.

How to Make Content that Moves

Want your content to travel? Start thinking like a meme. Memes are emotionally efficient, instantly recognizable, and built to spread. And if you’re a brand or a creator trying to build awareness, you don’t have to chase virality—you just have to create something that connects. Here are three moves that help.

Tap into formats your audience already knows. Memes, tweet formats, soundbites—these aren’t throwaway content; they’re cultural shortcuts. Reframing a known format in your brand’s voice lets you meet people where they already are, without needing to overexplain or overreach.

Never too niche. The best meme content isn’t watered down for mass appeal—it’s hyper-specific in a way that makes the right people feel seen. That specificity is what gives content its stickiness. Speak directly to your community, your corner, your subculture.

Don’t try to be a meme. Try to be part of the conversation. Content that spreads doesn’t feel like it’s trying too hard. That doesn’t mean ditching your message. It means delivering it in a way that aligns with how people already talk, share, and connect online. If your content feels like a contribution—not a campaign—it’s more likely to move.

Memes are modern folklore. They’re fast, flexible, and alive. And while you can’t manufacture one, you can absolutely borrow their mechanics to make your content feel more relevant, more resonant—and way more likely to be passed along.

So yeah—try making a meme. Or at least think like one. The goal isn’t to go viral. The goal is to make something worth sharing.

And if you’re looking for inspo, I recommend looking at how Hamilton and Maybe Happy Ending have been playing with these principles—or the best in the biz, the holy grail, the mecca of theater memes: @The_Theater_Lovers.

☝🏼 One last thing…

We're more than halfway through rehearsals now for All The World’s a Stage, and the process has been such a joy. A challenge, for sure, but we're having fun—genuine, creative, belly-laugh inducing fun. And I think it's because of how deeply collaborative our room has been.

I've been reflecting on what actually makes collaboration work—it's not about who's the loudest or who has the most impressive résumé. It's something much simpler and yet somehow harder to achieve: true curiosity and a willingness to play.

The thing about creativity is that it's not a solo sport, even when you're working alone. You're always in conversation with your own ideas, your influences, your doubts. Adding actual humans to the mix just amplifies everything—the potential, the challenges, the joy.

And yes, collaboration is hard. It requires you to hold your ideas firmly enough to share them but loosely enough to let them transform. It means embracing the vulnerability of saying "I don't know" and the excitement of "let's find out together."

But that's where the fun lives—in the space between what you thought something would be and what it becomes when other people's imaginations collide with yours.

So if you're feeling stuck in any area of your life right now—creative projects, work challenges, personal growth—maybe what you need isn't more solo thinking time. Maybe it's as simple as sharing those half-formed thoughts with a friend over coffee. Even the smallest act of bringing someone else into your process can shift everything. That text to a colleague asking "does this make sense?" That voice memo to your friend working through a problem. That's collaboration too, and it's how we grow.

Because we all need other perspectives to see our blind spots, challenge our assumptions, and sometimes just to remind us we're not, in fact, losing our minds. We're not meant to figure everything out alone—and there's something stupidly comforting about remembering that.

See you next week ♥️