Hickory Algorithm Newsletter
up from the depths, 30 stories high, breathing fire and head in the sky
GODZILLA!
By: Chris Goldby ∣ Hickory Algorithm
In our seat exclusive mastermind business group that meets once a month around Hickory (NC) called, Members Only 😎, we’ve been talking a lot about influences lately. Not the surface-level kind like books you’ve read or podcasts you listen to but, deeper ones.
The influences that shape how you see the world, how you dream, how you plan for a future that doesn’t quite have a map yet.
How you see the world through Your lens.
Uniquely yours.
Only yours.
We’ve talked about our personal Mount Rushmore of influences. Artists. Musicians. Creators. Leaders. Faith-based voices. The beauty of those conversations is that no two lists ever look the same. Everyone brings something different into the room, and every answer says a little more about the person giving it.
And for some reason, there is one I still can’t fully explain—I keep coming back to one influence. One unworldly, unexpected influence from my childhood.
Godzilla.
I know. It doesn’t make sense to me either.
But I can’t shake it.
I’m a huge Godzilla fan. Always have been. Some of my earliest memories are sitting on my father’s lap on his recliner, his chair - only his, eating a bag of plain Lay’s potato chips and watching what were clearly a few bros in monster suits stomping through miniature cities. Buildings toppled. Sirens wailed. People ran in terror. And there I was, in heaven.
A core memory.
A gold one, like from the movie, Inside out.
I own every Godzilla movie ever made, there are thirty-eight of them. From the 1954 original to the modern theatrical American runs happening now. Honestly, I’m living in the best possible time to be a Godzilla fan. The Big G has a series on Apple TV, major motion pictures on the big screen costarring King Kong (!!), and after decades of holding him back, Toho has finally loosened the licensing reins. Godzilla has been unleashed again.
I love going back to the old films. The corniness. The mismatched voice dubs. The overacted fear as people scatter through the streets. The obvious symbolism of a monster born from mankind’s misuse of nuclear power. It’s clunky. It’s dated. And it’s perfect.
But the real question keeps circling back.
Why Godzilla? Why does that imagery keep bleeding into my every day life, right now?!
Of all the influences I could point to real people, respected leaders, creators I admire, why does my mind keep drifting back to a giant radioactive lizard?
The answer, I think, lives in my favorite scenes across nearly every Godzilla movie.
The emergence.
The moment the water starts to move. The slow build. The tension. Then those massive steps as he pulls himself out of the ocean and onto land. You don’t see him rushing in. There’s no urgency. No apology.
He arrives when he arrives.
As a kid, I brought my Godzilla figures with me on family vacations to Virginia Beach. I’d sit in the sand for hours, building cities, imagining fights that never happened on screen, creating sequel after sequel entirely in my head. When I got tired, I’d stop and stare out at the water, imagining what it would look like if something massive rose up from beneath the surface.
That kind of imagination doesn’t just disappear.
Or at least, it isn’t supposed to.
Somewhere along the way, though, we’re taught to bury it. To sweep it under the rug. To label it childish. We “grow up,” trade imagination for practicality, and tell ourselves that wonder doesn’t pay the bills.
But life has a way of swinging back.
Lately, I find myself staring at open water again. Not literal water but, metaphorical. Career shifts. Creative risks. New chapters that don’t come with guarantees. And maybe that’s why Godzilla keeps resurfacing for me.
Because maybe it’s time to emerge.
To leave the cool comfort of the depths. To step out into the light, knowing full well there will be resistance waiting on shore. Other monsters. Other forces. Fear. Doubt. Noise.
Godzilla doesn’t come ashore to fight every battle. He doesn’t waste energy on everything in front of him. He picks his fights. He moves forward with intention. And once he commits, he doesn’t retreat back into the water just because it gets uncomfortable.
Maybe, that’s the influence.
Not destruction. Not chaos. Not the silliness.
But the emergence.
Choosing the moment. Standing fully in who you are. Moving toward what you want, even if you don’t have the full picture yet.
So maybe this is less about a monster movie.
Be the Godzilla emerging from the water.
Pick the fights worth fighting. Pick the battles that matter. And..
GO deliberately, toward the life you actually want.
The shoreline is waiting.
#fortheloveofthegame
This Month’s Creator Spotlight
Brandon Flowers
“Sometimes it takes a little bit courage and doubt to push your boundaries out, beyond your imagining.”
On the Hickory Algorithm stories and Substack notes during the month of January will feature the words of Brandon Flowers. One of my favorite singer songwriters and front man of The Killers. His writing has only gotten better as he has aged.
as he creates
he helps me create.
Thank you Brandon Flowers.
Favorite Killers/ Brandon Flowers song? Leave a comment.
Here are some links to YouTube music of the two most recent albums. Each one is a link to the album with the name, music by The Killers, written by Brandon Flowers and the band.
Imploding the Mirage
Imploding the Mirage is about coming to grips with returning to he and his wife’s hometown. How the strain of the distance from that town has affected their relationship. Brandon Flowers addresses the tone for the album from the first line:
“I tried going against my own soul’s warning - in the end, something just didn’t feel right. I tried diving even though the sky was storming, I just wanted to get back to where you are.”
Pressure Machine
Now, back living in his old home town. The Killers, known for their sonic rock anthems but on this record their sound is twisted and bent into more fundamental practices. Harmonicas, slow guitar strumming, and songs about the ‘getting by’ shine of a small town, with small town values, and how he missed it more than he ever thought he would. Simple things like family, relationships, faith, our relationships with our community and life being a pressure machine.
"Sometimes I look at the stars, I think about how small we are,
sweating it out in the pressure machine, good 'til the last drop.”
Last week’s post:
“I wanna run…”
Features a podcast with Coach Mike Now’s substack, a short poem about the feelings of a rock show, and a little more about our creator of the month for January. Click below:
The Hickory Algorithm
Chris Goldby is a writer, marketer, and multimedia storyteller based in Hickory, North Carolina. He owns The Hickory Algorithm, a multichannel marketing agency, and is a contributing writer and Head of Documentary/Docuseries with Akula Literary Partners.
CONTACT ME:
chris@hickoryalgorithm.com
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Now if we could see Godzilla vs. X - the Unknown.
Awesome writing Chris. Keep up the good work.
The Godzilla emergence metaphor is soooo good, especially the way it ties together childhood wonder with intentional risk-taking. That detail about building cities in teh sand at Virginia Beach and staring at the water hits different when framed as deliberate preparation for what's coming. Most people bury their imagination, but the best creatives find ways to repurpose it into their adult work. The "he picks his fights" observation is the key distinction, not just any emergence but strategic, intentional emergence with direction.