
TAKOMA PARK, MD – After the U.S. Government banned TikTok nationwide, city officials have announced its own version of the popular app called “TakTok,” a hyper-local video-sharing platform dedicated to residents arguing about trivial matters in a condensed, highly performative format.
Mayor Talisha Searcy celebrated the launch at a press conference this weekend, declaring, “TakTok will be the PEN listserv and the Takoma Park Facebook Group of the future – finally giving people a way to share their important opinions with less typing and more interpretive dance moves.”
The platform has already gained traction, although Takoma Park’s strict user cap of 17,500 accounts—matching the city’s population—has created a black market for account resales. “We had no choice but to limit accounts,” said a spokesperson for the city’s Department of Digital Equity, explaining that this system mirrors the city’s housing limitations. “We just didn’t want an influx of outside influencers ruining the Takoma vibe.”
The scarcity has turned TakTok logins into the digital equivalent of affordable housing: coveted, scarce, and hotly debated. One local activist was caught offering $50,000 for an account, while another traded a working compost bin for access.
Once online, users are diving right into Takoma’s favorite political controversies. Videos debating the Minor Master Plan are among the most popular, with hashtags like #KeepTakomaTakoma and #YesInMyBackyard trending. In one viral reaction video, a NIMBY frowns and shakes his fist into the camera as he watches a County Council hearing, text scrolling along the bottom that reads, “We must preserve Takoma Park’s unique character—by not allowing anyone else to move here ever.”
TakTok has also become a platform for escalating conflicts over mundane issues. One user posted a video titled “Street Parking Wars,” showing themselves dramatically covering their curb with lawn furniture. Another uploaded a twist on “Get Ready with Me” videos, where they show themselves tending their native-planted rain garden while a voiceover sternly reminds owners to keep pets off lawns, prompting a flood of #DogsBelong videos replies from irate rescued designer Labradoodle owners.
The app’s moderation policy has drawn criticism, as it reflects Takoma Park’s political landscape. Posts about stormwater management in the burgeoning #LocalExpertTok subgroup are mysteriously given priority, while any mention of developing a vacant lot is flagged as “inciting violence.” Meanwhile, Mayor Searcy’s office appears to be using TakTok as an informal polling tool, using likes on videos to gauge support for new initiatives.
Despite its quirks, TakTok has united residents in their shared obsession with local issues. “We finally have a way to focus on what really matters,” said longtime resident and self-described social media pioneer Carl Emerson. “Forget influencers – our community needs hyper-local attention on things like whether a co-op sells organic tomatoes from the ‘right’ farms.”
Plans to expand TakTok into a city revenue source are already underway. Officials hope to sell “boost packages” allowing users to prioritize their content in council members’ feeds. However, some Takoma Park residents are skeptical about the app’s potential for fostering unity. “It’s just the PEN listserv in video form,” complained longtime resident Marcy Feldstein. “Only now, instead of reading 47 comments about someone’s lost cat, I have to watch a 2-minute interpretive dance about it.”
Regardless of criticism, the city is hopeful that TakTok will bring neighbors together, albeit through a shared love of passive-aggressive performance art. As Mayor Searcy said, “If we can’t agree on policy, we can at least shimmy our way to mutual understanding. Or at the very least, go viral.”
Discover more from The Takoma Torch
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.