America’s Favorite Invisible Man in a Monkey Suit
Bigfoot is the participation trophy of the paranormal world. You can’t prove he’s there, you can’t prove he’s not, and somehow that’s enough for a certain breed of sweaty enthusiast to slap a sticker on their pickup truck and call it a lifestyle.
Every few months some blurry photo crawls out of the forest like a hungover raccoon and sets the internet on fire. “Could this be the evidence we’ve been waiting for?” No, Kevin. It’s a guy in a gorilla suit, or a bear with mange, or — and here’s a radical thought — absolutely nothing at all. Funny how Bigfoot only shows up when nobody’s got an iPhone handy. Funny how every credible wildlife photographer on the planet has managed to capture pristine images of owls mid-flight, bees pollinating flowers, and snow leopards sneezing, but Bigfoot? Bigfoot remains a shaky blob at best, a mossy log at worst.
The best part — and by best, I obviously mean most tragic — is how the believers cling to the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film like it’s the Zapruder tape. Watch it. Seriously. It’s thirty seconds of footage that looks like someone’s drunk uncle lurching through a Halloween costume contest after two pitchers of margaritas. This is what the entire multi-million-dollar Bigfoot industry rests on. Not bones, not DNA, not a body, not even a coherent blurry photo. Nope. Just a half-century-old shakycam relic that wouldn’t convince a half-blind possum.
And when you point out how dumb all of this is? There’s always some diehard ready to explain, very seriously, that Bigfoot is “too intelligent” to be caught. Ah, yes. Evolution’s crowning achievement: an eight-foot-tall ape with the stealth instincts of a Navy SEAL and the critical thinking skills of a stoned frat bro. He can dodge every camera, every hunter, every scientist — but somehow can’t manage to avoid leaving enormous footprints conveniently located next to scenic hiking trails and county fairs.
Let’s get real. If Bigfoot existed, someone would have shot him by now. This is America. We put ranch dressing on everything and shoot at mailboxes for fun. You expect me to believe a giant hairy monster has been tiptoeing through national parks for decades without catching a bullet or ending up on a venison jerky menu? Please.
The truth is simpler and sadder: Bigfoot is the last desperate gasp of people who want the world to still have magic in it. And I get it. Reality is boring. Taxes are due. The dryer eats your socks. It’s way more fun to believe there’s a shaggy mystery lurking just beyond the trees. But if you need to invent a forest ape to make life interesting, you’re already lost.
I’ll admit one thing: Bigfoot is real — real useful for selling bumper stickers and hiking tours to people who think grainy blobs are scientific evidence. Hope you enjoy your T-shirt. It’s the only thing you’re ever going to catch.