What We talk about when We talk about TIktok
The For You Page is an uncanny distortion of secret desires.
News on TikTok is a nightmare,” said the reporter, making pleasant chit-chat with me and my barista as he shot B-roll of the espresso machine.
There are days when I feel more like I’m pretending to work in a café than managing one. This is one of those days.
“Yeah,” said my coworker, an actual young person. I, personally, am in the godforsaken limbo of being ancient in barista years but young by adult standards- 31 and depressed.
“Either far left or far right, and mostly the worst takes,” The reporter continues, his eyes never leaving the camera.
I blink. Unless you count the Mulch Gang—a series of shitposts where crusty-eyed white dogs extol the virtues of mulch-maxxing and eating microplastics for fiber—I haven’t seen a political take on my timeline in weeks.
This made me realize that while my feed has taken on the whimsical yet creepy vibe I bring to the functions, other people might experience something completely different. When someone brings up TikTok, it’s probably a good idea to ask clarifying questions.
An unfiltered glimpse into my TikTok:
Disclaimer: This is a three-year-old draft I am finally posting. So this is genuine, original algorithm baby! Not that anything actually changed post-ban.
The first thing I see when I open the app is a woman reminding me that, yes, you can order a wedding cake sampler just for yourself.
“This is feminism,” she says, semi-sarcastically. I make a mental note to buy a plate of cake soon but quickly forget about it.
Next up: a TikTok live of a Syrian cat rescue. All the cats are asleep. You can use TikTok’s convoluted system of GIF-based currency to donate to the shelter. I send a picture of a rose. I have no idea how much it’s worth, especially since I don’t think TikTok even has my credit card information.
Then there’s a guy making tiny articulated models of critters, an ad for Bendy and the Ink Machine merch, and a woman making fun of a creepy, David Lynch-looking bathroom.
This is about when I realize I am too boring to be radicalized via TikTok. Instead, my content consists of aggressively American Calico Critters acting up and footage of happy cats doing absolutely nothing.
Now, several frankly terrible years later, my feed has taken on more of an edge. Along with the usual—let’s find out what the cats are up to right now (sleeping), and ads for Arab perfumes—there's pro-Luigi Mangioni content, angry AOC posts, and sad queer people asking where they could move instead of, well, here.
All of this is to say: if you ever hate your corner of the post-algorithm internet remember—like Midwest weather—if you wait five minutes, it will change.
