On TikTok, the stupidity of a joke or the obvious lack of effort is the punchline

TikTok is one of social media’s most recent additions that has surged in popularity over the past year. Referred to by some as Vine’s annoying younger sister, TikTok has become a go-to for content creators and teens who want to become content creators. 

TikTok is unlike any other social media. The app is the product of a merger between Musical.ly and ByteDance in 2018. Talent, comedy and thirst traps coexist in the form of video, giving anyone with minor technological skills the ability to create and entertain. The minute-long videos give way for a scripted skit, a painting tutorial or, most commonly, a choreographed dance. There is still plenty of bad content to be found, but it is undeniably unique as a platform. 

“I don’t really know much about it, […] I’m just doing it for fun,” said Naomi Solomon, a second-year communication major. 

Katia Goldberg, a second-year wildlife, fish and conservation biology major, described TikTok as “more of a joke than other social media.”

“I would never really go to TikTok to look people up, it’s more of a comedy thing for me,” Goldberg said. “The people who take it seriously are funny as hell.”

This isn’t necessarily everyone’s perspective — college students seem to be a little bit older than the primary age demographic on TikTok. Most users are in high school, which is perhaps why the content is so amusing to adults. And with those teenagers directing their own minute-long videos for the world to see, things get risqué, fast. 

“There’re a lot of girls putting this image out there and they’re 13 years old,” said Mehar Durah, a second-year cognitive science major. “A lot of creators are underage, but come off as not underage.” 

Beyond some unsettling sexual content, there’s also the typical risk of young people hiding behind a screen.

“What I see on the “For You” page makes me really worried; they seem to be using it in a destructive way,” Solomon said. “There’s a lot of cyberbullying. If I was a fourteen-year-old girl, I wouldn’t want to be on there.”

Others have had a more positive experience. 

“What I’ve seen is that the community of TikTok [is] supportive and complementary,” said Brock Johnson, a fourth-year communications major. “While [people on] Instagram are body shaming and wrapped up in an image conscious culture, a lot of the people on TikTok don’t fit that mold. The uniqueness of each person is celebrated on TikTok.”

TikTok can also be addicting. The screen is completely taken up by the video you’re watching, even blocking the time display on the top of your phone. The “For You” page is just a stream of what everyone is posting, creating a variety of endless entertainment.

“I’m an ex-user,” Durah said. “I had it for three weeks. I would spend a lot of time on it. It was instant gratification. I didn’t have to think because it was so much content. It’s a waste of time and it shouldn’t be a thing.”

The app has impacted some more than others. That said, TikTok seems to be making a significant cultural impact. The ability to instantly go viral from a hit video is especially appealing. There are several teenagers who are now social media moguls with brand deals galore, solely from making dancing videos. The dances are prevalent, with big-name celebrities taking a stab at the daunting moves. And even people who don’t use the app know a TikTok song or two. 

“It influences Spotify top songs; a lot of them are from TikTok,” Durah said. Once a TikTok-er goes viral doing a shimmy to a catchy tune, you can expect to hear it on the radio, ever to be associated with a specific sequence of arm and body movements. Some of the popular songs include “ROXANNE” by Arizona Zervas and “Lottery (Renegade)” by K CAMP.

In fact, one of Davis’ own has experienced the fame that TikTok can bring.

Johnson, a UC Davis football player, posted a video last January that went viral overnight.

“The night before I had 300 followers, and the next day [the video] had 300,000 views,” Johnson said. “The next day [my teammates and I] made another video that went viral. It’s at 7.4 million views right now. From there it took off, I got a ton of followers and really grew the account. I was lucky to hop on the trend early.”

Johnson is still reaping the benefits of this claim to fame — sort of. 

“I got an email from ByteDance [the owner of TikTok], inviting me to be a part of their Super Bowl campaign,” he said. His TikTok video of dancing football players would be included in their commercial, but he had to decline the offer.

“NCAA owns our likeness, so they won’t let me,” Johnson explained. Despite the recent passage of legislation in California that will allow collegiate athletes to be compensated for their likeness, the law won’t take effect until 2023, preventing Johnson from accepting deals like the one he was offered by ByteDance. 

Even so, Johnson has profited from his many millions of views. He gained around 10,000 Instagram followers after the fact, helping to promote his social media marketing coaching company.

Though it isn’t as common as other top social media apps, TikTok has made its mark. No social media is truly social media without its share of people who make it their full time job; perhaps, then, what’s made TikTok so influential is the particular type of content that’s posted. 

“They seem to put in the least amount of effort and it’s hilarious,” said Tessa Leonard, a second-year environmental science and management major. “It’s sh*tty comedy.”

Although the editing features and length of the videos allow for some full-on short films, a lot of the popular content is fairly basic — the stupidity of a joke or the obvious lack of effort is the punchline. It’s almost a counterculture to the social media we’ve been raised on, where we only display the best version of ourselves online. As cringey as a self-deprecating teenager might be, at least it’s real. 

“It seems a lot more homemade, it’s a less formal social media,”  Leonard said. “You don’t have to put your best self on TikTok; it’s more authentic.”

Written By: Allie Bailey — arts@theaggie.org

An exploration of music as community

Campus is a strange place. Don’t get me wrong, since being admitted here I have sung the praises of UC Davis to an arguably annoying amount, both in print and to friends.

There’s beauty everywhere you look, even if you have to squint sometimes. There’s not a better way to remind ourselves of who we attend school with than by looking at the albums that describe us as a campus. This is an exploration at who you’ll find in our little university, in our little slice of Cowtown, in five albums. 

Kanye West – “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”

You already know who this is. Late to class, has a Supreme sticker on their laptop or their HydroFlask (although it is in truth probably both). They’re most likely an economics or an engineering major who feels deeply connected with hip-hop even though they are probably from a suburb of Los Angeles. This won’t take away from the fact that they will inevitably explain the ins and outs of hip-hop’s most recent magnum opus that is Kanye West’s “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” “It has layers,” they will say. “Did you even hear the piano on ‘Runaway?’ What about the Bon Iver feature?” “This is the greatest album of all time,” they’ll yell at you, as you patiently sip on CoHo coffee. If they don’t own a pair of Timberland 6” Tan Work Boots, you can bet they’ll spend most of their time in their 400-person lecture browsing for them. You can find this person hanging by the Quad, lost at the Death Star or anywhere that isn’t Shields Library. 

 Chris Stapleton – “From A Room”

They think they’re as smooth as Tennessee Whiskey, but in truth, you’ve never understood that because every time you’ve had whiskey, it’s really burned your throat and made you look like an idiot in front of everyone. These are the people in Agricultural Sciences, looking to make their bread and butter. They effortlessly pull off a flannel better than you ever will. Chris Stapleton’s “From A Room” plays softly in the background whenever they walk into a room, whether it’s to outdo you in a farming demonstration or just knock back a cold one. (And they love to knock back a cold one.) City folk just don’t get them, and we probably never will. You can find these people around the Student Farm, passing by Mrak Hall or anywhere a field of wheat is present, trying to desperately learn its secrets. 

Mac DeMarco – “This Old Dog”  

Do you smell that? It’s a mix of American Spirit Blues, mason jar quinoa and not showering after a Yosemite trip. Print is a visual medium, yet one can catch a whiff just from that description alone. There is a 99% chance they are not in STEM, but if they are, you can bet they’re there to dismantle the worker-exploitative, oppressive regime from the inside. There is also a 99% chance they believe in Communism and a 100% chance they have never talked to anyone who lived in the former Soviet Union. 

With a love for old synthesizers and being emotionally unavailable, they throw on Mac DeMarco’s “This Old Dog”  to unwind from a long day of posting watercolors on their Instagram. This is all to say that “Old Dog” folks are always quite warm, albeit a little intimidating. (Their tattoos of vegetable gardens really put the pressure on you to seem interesting during casual conversation.) They throw the best parties, with people who actually dress up in theme, a rare find with the imminent collapse of Davis Greek life. Find them hanging around Cruess Hall or Turtle House and being rightfully exhausted after their CoHo shifts. 

Lana Del Rey – “Norman F*cking Rockwell”

Lana Del Rey is an artist who I’m not very familiar with, but can understand the general gist of what she’s going for, just like I can gauge the general vibe of this crowd. Super into Glossier. Also super into not calling you back.

Carole King – “Tapestry”

Ah, the ol’ reliable. There are days when everything can go wrong. These are the days when you need a friend, one who won’t let you down. Stern, smart and an all around warm person. Which is why “Tapestry” by Carole King is such a mainstay in their life; exuding a sort of energy you’ll never not appreciate. They’re the friend that has a really serious internship, a crazy thesis project, a super steady partner and somehow still manages to do meal prep. You are jealous, but not so much so for it to delve into envy. It’s a good vibe. They’re probably a political science major or something else important to the fabric of this country. Either way, they’re a keeper. 

Written by: Ilya Shrayber — arts@theaggie.org

Alert: Snow in Davis

The week before Christmas, Aaron Hall and Jamez Manning, described as “young men in the Oakland music scene,” died due to an overdose of cocaine laced with fentanyl in Oakland, according to the SF Chronicle. Unfortunately, these aren’t isolated incidents. 

 According to the San Francisco Department of Public Health, death rates have increased 150% since last year in the city due to an increase in fentanyl overdoses. In fact, the deaths of celebrities like Mac Miller, Lil Peep and Prince have been tied to the synthetic opioid. 

Recent pop culture has suggested that fentanyl has only struck the Bay Area’s cocaine supply, however, that’s not the case — the epidemic is prevalent in areas around the U.S.

Fentanyl, a painkiller used in hospitals that’s 25 to 50 times stronger than heroin, is now finding its way into the cocaine business. The question then is: Why would cocaine suppliers want to intentionally drug and kill their customers? 

According to Rolling Stone, there are two hypotheses as to why fentanyl is being snuck into the drug supply.

The first hypothesis is that a sloppy workspace leads to cross contamination. The majority of cocaine dealers don’t comply with federal health and safety guidelines. As a result of a failure to properly clean up work spaces, trace amounts of of fentanyl get into other products.

The second hypothesis points to malicious motives: Fentanyl is a cheaper substitute. Drug cartels could mix the cheaper substance into their product, thus making a higher profit by selling it at the same street price. A way to make a few extra bucks in exchange for human lives. 

Whether a regular drug user or not, anyone who snorts a fentanyl-laced cocaine line may suffer the consequences. Are people aware of the epidemic or are they simply turning a blind-eye to get a little “kick?” UC Davis students share their experiences with cocaine now that the epidemic has become widely recognized.

“I have been known to recreationally use the ‘sneeze,’” said one anonymous design major. The student said he said he doesn’t necessarily enjoy doing coke. In fact, he “feels pretty shitty about [himself]” and each time he “never wants to do it again,” but when he’s drunk he disregards those feelings. Though he is aware of both the epidemic and the fact that it may be laced with a fatal substance, he partakes in the “blow” anyways.

“I feel like no one does drugs because they’re safe,” he said. “You do drugs because they’re not safe, because it’s something you shouldn’t be doing, but it makes you feel good. Whether a drug is safe or not is not going to prevent you from doing it. It’s a hard thing to pinpoint down why people do drugs.” 

Even when the consequences are potentially deadly, people are still taking a bump of cocaine to feel the rush from the drug. 

“Every once in a while, I’d do a little nose snow,” said one anonymous history major. “It just makes you feel good, makes you have more energy. It’s like a symbol of doing something crazy and fun for a lot of people.”

This student tests his cocaine before partaking in the drug by using fentanyl test strips. Although “it makes [him] feel like a dork because a lot of people are just doing it” without testing it beforehand, he does it for his own safety. He said he would “absolutely” snort a line without the test, but he just “happens” to have them, “so why not [use them]?” 

Some users, however, stay away from cocaine altogether if it hasn’t been tested beforehand. 

“I feel like yes, before knowing [about the epidemic], I would’ve done it, but now, absolutely not,” said one political science major.

This student knows that the cocaine she intakes could be laced, but she only does it if she knows where it came from and if it’s been tested beforehand. She said she does not crave cocaine regularly, but if it’s presented to her, then she wants it. 

The UC Davis students who spoke to The California Aggie said they do not seek out cocaine themselves, but will take it if it’s readily available. Of course “there’s that group of people who you know does [coke],” the political science major said. 

Why do people do cocaine, especially if they know of the potentially fatal dangers associated with it?

“Most of the time when I do [cocaine], I am drunk, and then it actually sobers me up, and makes my night better and more safe because I don’t go as crazy. I am actually more in control,” the design major said. 

Another reason why people partake in cocaine in a party setting is to rally — the classic college stereotype of drugs, sex and rock and roll. People may be taking a line or a bump in order to continue the hype and seem like a party “tank.”

At the end of the day, getting a drug test can save a life — they are easy to find and affordable, available at drugstore chains and even Amazon.

“I do it for my safety and for the safety of others,” the history major said. Party safely. 

Written by: Sierra Jimenez — arts@theaggie.org

The names of students who spoke about doing drugs have been omitted in order to protect their identities.